Read The Careless Word (#8 - The Craig Crime Series) Online

Authors: Catriona King

Tags: #Fiction & Literature

The Careless Word (#8 - The Craig Crime Series) (18 page)

BOOK: The Careless Word (#8 - The Craig Crime Series)
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“Hello. Nicky will sort you out with drinks then I’d like to start. We’ve a fair bit to cover.” Craig scanned the room. “Anyone seen Annette?”

A moment later she dashed in, with a pleased look on her face that made Liam sit up and take note.

“OK. I’m going to update you on the bomb, Fintan Delaney and my interview with James Trimble, then John, Des and Davy on the forensics, Annette on the developers, Liam on UKUF and so on. Everyone chip in, as and when.”

Craig was just about to start when a quiet cough from Nicky made him turn. She gazed pointedly at Carmen and Ken and Craig realised that they didn’t know everyone else.

“Sorry, I forgot to introduce everyone.” He waved his hand towards the two newcomers, noting briefly that they were sitting side by side. For security? A glance at Nicky said that she thought it was something else. Craig brushed past his P.A.’s romantic machinations and continued.

“This is Detective Constable Carmen McGregor, seconded to us from Vice for two weeks. Beside her is Captain Ken Smith, from army bomb disposal based out at Craigantlet. He’s acting as liaison on the case for the same period.”

Des’ cheerful voice cut through the introductions. “Both here to make sure that we get John to the church on time.”

John blushed and Craig turned to the secondees. “Carmen, Ken, the hairy biker who just spoke is Dr Des Marsham, Head of Forensic Science for Northern Ireland; appearances can be deceptive.” Des gazed down at his T-shirt and heavy boots with mock indignation. “The soon-to–be married man beside him is Dr John Winter. Believe it or not they have a combined IQ of over three hundred.” Craig rolled his eyes. “God help us all.”

A chorus of hellos followed then Craig nodded the group into silence and began to report. He covered the bomb-blast and then stopped, turning to Smith.

“Can you tell us anything more about the bomb?”

Smith’s clear English accent rang across the room. “Actually yes. We may have had a breakthrough. We knew that the device was basically Semtex and a timer, but we’ve managed to source the Semtex. Well, when I say source, we’ve got the chemical composition. But it leaves us with a slight problem.”

Des leaned forward eagerly. He’d missed all but the last few years of the Troubles and explosives fascinated him. “What’s the problem?”

Smith made a face. “The Semtex was military grade.”

“That’s not good.”

“No, it’s not. Don’t ask me which army owned it; we don’t have tags that will tell us that.”

Craig interjected. “But you’re saying the explosion wasn’t organised by amateurs.”

Smith nodded. “It’s either military or well-organised paramilitaries from somewhere. It’s nearly impossible to get hold of otherwise.”

Craig nodded. It made sense. But whose military? He waved Smith on.

“Every bomb maker has a unique signature. For example, they crimp wires exactly the same way in every bomb they make or they utilise fragmentation in a similar way. Our forensic team is looking at all that.” Smith sipped his tea and then carried on. “It’s also harder than it sounds to actually get a device to work. It’s easy enough to put these things together. I mean, there’s practically a ‘how to’ guide on the internet, but to be able to explode them when you want to is much harder than it sounds.”

Des cut in. “You have a database of signatures.”

Smith nodded. “Yes, and we’re almost ready to start the wider search. It took a bit longer than we thought to get the info. We’ll start running it tomorrow.”

Craig interrupted. “Major James was going to run it against the past fifty year’s bombs here.”

“Yes.”

“Did you get the message that I’d like the search to include international devices?”

Smith nodded and gave Craig a quizzical look. Craig shook his head.

“I can’t say much more at the moment but can you do it?”

Smith nodded. “I’ve asked for it, but I’d rather you didn’t mention it to the old man or he’ll find some reason to block it.”

“Fine. What about the photo-frame?”

Smith warmed to his subject.

“The frame’s interesting. The metal was titanium and the scrollwork was decorative. That and the shape lead us to believe that someone put a photograph in the bomb, but what of is in the lap of the Gods.”

Des shook his head. “It’s in the lap of forensics. Your team found scraps of photograph?”

Smith nodded. “Yes, but very little. They’re trying to reconstruct it now.”

Des leaned forward so quickly that Craig thought he was going to topple his chair. “Send it over. They were supposed to send it to me days ago. We have state-of-the-art laser technology. It can pull an image off anything.”

Craig interjected angrily. “The remains of the watch they used as a timer as well. Why hasn’t it happened, Ken?”

Smith looked sheepish. “Major James being obstructive again, sorry. I’ve been chasing them, honestly. I promise I’ll get them both to you after the briefing, but frankly there isn’t much on the photo to see.”

“I’ll make you a bet that we can get more than your labs.”

Smith nodded. Craig waited for him to continue but there wasn’t anything more to say; they were at the mercy of the bomb database and forensics. Craig continued reporting until he reached Fintan Delaney’s cause of death then he turned to hand over to John. John was just wondering whether to have another cup of tea when he vaguely heard Craig call his name.

“Preoccupied with bigger things, John?”

“Yes, namely that I’d love another cup of tea but the pot’s empty.”

Nicky took the hint.

“OK, Fintan Delaney. Well…he was murdered, no question of it. Everything about his P.M. showed a young, fit man recovering from a mild head injury, nothing that would have caused his death. But the tox-screen is interesting, more in what it doesn’t show that what it does.”

Craig frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well… there are some poisons, because that’s the likeliest cause of death given that we’ve ruled everything else out, there are some poisons that defy measurement. You can’t simply say ‘oh look, there’s so much of X or Y in the blood’, like you can measure insulin or potassium levels. You can only tell that the poisons have been given by their effect on particular organs or electrolytes.”

“And Delaney was killed with one of those?”

John nodded. “Yes, I’m pretty sure that he was. They’re quite rare so I want to be sure I’m right. I should have an answer for you tomorrow.”

“OK, thanks. Anything on the unidentified victim in Papyrus?”

John’s face lit up. “Now there I can help you. We withdrew DNA from the scaphoid bones and other tissue in the debris and by eliminating McGovern, Robinson, Greer and Delaney that left us with a fifth DNA; male. The database kicked out a name this afternoon.”

Craig didn’t want to spoil John’s big reveal but they were pressed for time. “And?”

“And it belonged to a Saudi national called Ibrahim Kouri. Davy’s running the checks on him now.”

A squeak that passed for Annette’s voice cut across the room. “Saudi? Are you sure?”

All eyes turned to her.

“Yes. He was listed as Saudi. Why?”

Annette’s eyes were wide with shock; not at John’s discovery but at the way things were falling into place. “SNI stands for Saudi Northern Ireland.”

Craig’s eyes widened as well. “What the hell are the Saudis doing developing in Belfast?”

Annette was about to answer when Des asked an even simpler question. “Who the heck are SNI?”

Craig suddenly realised that some people in the room knew nothing about the developers so he gave them a crash course. “The bookshop owner was being extorted by paramilitaries running a protection racket. UKUF; the UK Ulster Force.”

Des shot Craig a sceptical look. “The what?”

“They were the UKF but they renamed themselves after the flag protests at the end of 2012.”

Des snorted. “Acronyms are us.”

Craig pushed through the laughter that followed. “Yep. Anyway, one of the bomb victims was Sharon ‘Sharpy’ Greer, the head of UKUF since her husband David died.”

“Caught in her own bomb?”

Craig shook his head. “I don’t think so. Even they’re not that stupid, although there is some word of the son wanting his mother to step aside and let him take over.”

Liam leaned forward to interrupt but Craig waved him back.

“Liam will tell us about that in a moment. Anyway, as well as the UKUF protection racket there was a firm of developers interested in Smithfield and they wanted to clear the terrace of shops that Papyrus was in. All the shop owners had agreed to sell except for Jules Robinson.”

Des interjected. “And the developers are called SNI.”

Craig nodded. “It’s only this afternoon that we’d found out what the S stood for. John, let me come back to you in a minute. I’d like Annette to tell us what she found out.”

Annette flicked open her notebook and started to report about Hilary Stenson. “SNI was putting serious pressure on the final two shopkeepers to sell and they were working with UKUF to achieve it. They’d paid them thirty thousand up front with another thirty when each shop was closed.”

“Compensation for UKUF losing the protection money from the shops?

Annette nodded. “And a little on top. But Stenson denies that SNI authorised a bomb.”

Liam smiled. “Well she would, wouldn’t she? To paraphrase Mandy Rice-Davies.”

Davy had been sitting quietly during the briefing, alternately doodling on his notepad and chewing on his nails. Now he spoke. “Mandy Rice w…who?”

Liam nodded knowingly. “Before your time, son. Back when women were women.”

Craig shook his head in disbelief at Liam’s ever-permanent foot in mouth. He considered giving him a lecture on sexism but he couldn’t be bothered. Liam knew exactly what not to say, he just enjoyed saying it anyway.

“Carry on, Annette.”

“There wasn’t much more, sir. I believe Stenson that she knows nothing about the bomb but we’ll have to check out the rest of the Board.”

“And check that none of the Saudi members have disappeared, given what John just said about the DNA.”

Craig thought for a moment. The Saudis had bought up or developed most of London, was Northern Ireland their next port of call? Annette read his mind.

“Hilary Stenson said that SNI was interested in property everywhere in the UK. I’ve had a quick look and their developments look legitimate, even if their land clearance tactics aren’t.”

John sipped his fresh tea and leapt into a natural break in the exchange.

“OK, so UKUF was running protection, but unless Zac Greer wanted his mother dead, why blow up the shop with her in it? SNI wanted the building cleared but Stenson said that they wouldn’t have blown it up, and if they were going to, why do it with a Saudi national inside?”

Craig nodded. UKUF and SNI weren’t responsible for the explosion. He had his own theory about who was but he was keeping it quiet until the evidence pointed that way. Craig turned to Liam, who was still chortling over his earlier joke, then just as quickly he turned back to Annette, narrowing his eyes.

“Who went with you to SNI, Annette?”

Annette blushed. “Well Liam was busy so…”

“So you thought you’d disregard my direct order and go alone, with all the risk that entailed?”

The whole group fell silent as Craig glared at her. Annette gazed down at her feet and said nothing. After a moment Craig shook his head.

“I’ll speak to you later. Liam, carry on.”

Nicky gazed sympathetically at Annette but Craig was right. Her encounter with Hilary Stenson could easily have turned nasty.

“Aye, well, UKUF. I paid them a wee visit and Zac Greer’s in High Street now, waiting for me to give the word to let him go.”

Craig’s eyes widened. “What are you holding him on?”

“I’m not. I brought him in to answer a few questions which he did willingly, enough to convince me that he hasn’t a Scooby-Doo about the bomb. He just moaned about the fact they’d lost the protection income from the bookshop.”

“So his mother hadn’t told him about the deal with SNI?”

“Seems not, and for a man who’s the solicitor for both UKUF and SNI, Trimble was keeping his mouth firmly shut.” Liam nodded at Craig. “Did you get anything from Trimble?”

Craig shrugged. “He admitted that he’d been working for both groups, which we already knew, but said that UKUF only ran legitimate businesses.”

“Aye, if you call drugs and girls legitimate.”

“Precisely. Trimble’s worried because he knows that we’re looking at him now. I’ll be getting Fraud to take a look at everyone’s books once we wrap our case up. As far as SNI’s concerned Trimble pretty much echoed what Hilary Stenson told Annette. That they’re interested in developing land across the UK and will pay a lot to get what they want.”

“But not plant bombs.”

Craig nodded. “Not that.”

Annette interrupted quietly. “That still doesn’t explain why Zac Greer’s still at High Street.”

Liam’s cheerful face clouded and his voice took on a solemn tone. “Because it became clear while I was talking to him that the lad had no idea that his mother was dead.”

John’s jaw dropped. He’d forgotten to contact Sharon Greer’s next of kin! It was an unforgivable error. “Oh crap! Crap, crap, crap.”

Nicky gawped at him. John rarely swore, unlike Liam who swore enough for ten men. John was gabbling.

“This is my fault. As soon as I identified Greer’s DNA I should have contacted the family. It’s unforgivable of me.”

Craig shook his head. It was a lapse but an understandable one. They’d only found out it was Sharon Greer’s DNA two days before and they still didn’t know if her son had ordered her hit.

“Liam, did you tell the boy about his mother?”

Liam shook his head. “He was conferring with Trimble. I’ll go back and do it after this.”

“How sure are you that he didn’t order her death?”

“If he did then he’s the best liar I’ve ever seen. My gut says he knew nothing about it.”

Craig’s heart sank; Liam’s gut instinct was rarely wrong and his own was in agreement. He snapped out instructions.

“OK, Liam, take Annette to High Street with you. Ask the boy leading questions and when there’s an opening, talk about the explosion and the victims before leading into his mother’s death. Trimble’s going to ask when we knew. Don’t lie but say that we wanted to be sure before we caused any distress. Annette, help with the soft stuff here please and have another word with Hilary Stenson if she’s still there. Especially ask her about any Saudi members on the Board, I want their whereabouts checked ASAP. And run the name Ibrahim Kouri past her.”

BOOK: The Careless Word (#8 - The Craig Crime Series)
11.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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