Rough Justice (50 page)

‘I promise,’ he said.

‘In we go,’ said Fogg. Parry began to jog down the pavement, towards the house, holding the enforcer to his chest. As he got closer he increased the pace, and within seconds their boots were pounding in unison.

A VW Polo drove by and Shepherd caught a glimpse of a black woman glaring at them.

They reached the house. Everyone held back to give Parry room to swing the enforcer.

‘I bet he does it in three,’ said Coker.

‘Two,’ said Kelly.

‘The door’s probably reinforced,’ said Turnbull. ‘A tenner says it takes him four.’

Parry grunted, swung back the enforcer and slammed it into the door, close to the lock. The wood splintered but the door held.

‘One,’ said Coker.

‘We can all count, Lurpak,’ muttered Kelly.

Parry grunted again, swayed back, then slammed the enforcer against the door a second time, a few inches higher. It caved in and one of the hinges ripped from the surround. Parry stepped to the side.

‘I win,’ said Kelly. He kicked the door open and hurried over the threshold, his hands in fists, like a prize-fighter’s. ‘Police!’ he screamed. ‘Police! Stay where you are!’

He charged along the hallway, closely followed by Turnbull. By the time Shepherd was through what was left of the door, Kelly and Turnbull were already halfway up the stairs, shouting at the top of their voices.

Simmons hared up after them. ‘Armed police!’ he screamed, which Shepherd knew wasn’t exactly true.

Kelly and Turnbull reached the top of the stairs, still shouting, and turned right towards the main bedroom. Simmons peeled off to the right.

Shepherd’s boot caught on a loose piece of carpet and he stumbled, his hands flailing for balance. He grabbed Castle’s waist and she yelped.

‘Sorry,’ he gasped.

‘Stop trying to feel me up.’ She headed for the bedroom where the children were.

Shepherd reached the top of the stairs. The hatch leading into the attic was closed. He stayed where he was, his face bathed in sweat, breathing hard.

Coker was standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up. He nodded at Shepherd. Parry stepped across the threshold and went into the sitting room, shouting. A few seconds later there was the sound of furniture being smashed and a crash that suggested that a television had been thrown across the room.

‘We’ve got him!’ shouted Kelly, from the main bedroom.

Simmons appeared at the door, holding a young black woman by the arm. She was wearing only a baggy T-shirt with a marijuana leaf in the colours of the Jamaican flag on it. ‘My kids!’ she screamed. ‘Leave my kids alone!’

Simmons let go of her arm and she pushed Shepherd aside and ran to her children. He saw Castle standing by a bunk-bed talking to a little girl with dreadlocks. ‘Leave my fucking kids alone!’ shrieked the woman. Castle stood back as the woman grabbed the two children and hugged them. They were both crying.

Fogg came up the stairs. ‘Everything okay?’ he asked Shepherd.

‘Seems to be,’ said Shepherd.

‘You’re fucking animals, all of you! You should be ashamed of yourselves! You should be fucking ashamed of yourselves.’

‘Calm down,’ said Castle, raising her visor. ‘You’re upsetting your children.’

‘I’m upsetting the children?’ the woman yelled. ‘I’m upsetting the fucking children? You’re the ones who came in like the fucking Gestapo.’ The children started to wail and she held them tighter. ‘See what you’ve done?’ she shouted. ‘How would you like the Gestapo kicking your door down in the middle of the night?’

‘We’re not the Gestapo, it’s seven o’clock in the morning, and it’s your own fault for letting a drug-dealer live in your house,’ said Castle, patiently. ‘And if you thought anything of your kids you wouldn’t let him put a meth lab in your attic. Do you know how dangerous that is? The whole house could go up in flames, or your kids could die from the fumes. We’re doing you a favour here.’

Kelly and Turnbull pulled Alleyne out of the main bedroom. He’d been handcuffed with his hands behind his back. ‘Fucking pigs,’ he shouted. ‘Where’s your warrant?’

‘Put him on the bus,’ said Fogg.

‘I want to talk to who’s in charge!’ shouted Alleyne. ‘This ain’t right.’ As Kelly and Turnbull dragged him along the landing, he saw his girlfriend. ‘You call my lawyer, baby, his number’s on the fridge. Tell him the pigs have hauled me in but I ain’t done nothing.’ He glared at Fogg. ‘Where you taking me, man?’

‘Ask me nicely,’ said Fogg.

‘Fuck you, where you taking me? I got the right to know.’

Fogg ignored him and jerked his thumb at Kelly. ‘On the bus,’ he said.

Alleyne began to scream abuse at Fogg, the TSG and the Metropolitan Police in general as he was dragged down the stairs and outside. When his yells had faded into the background, Fogg went into the smaller bedroom, removing his helmet and gloves. He smiled at the woman and her two children. ‘Shayla, my name’s Roy Fogg,’ he said. ‘I’m a sergeant, based at Paddington Green.’ He handed her a business card. ‘I’m sorry about the way we stormed in, but we had to do it to make sure that no one got hurt. We’ll pay for any damage and we’ll check that your house is secure until everything’s made good. Are your children okay?’

‘They’re scared,’ she said. She kissed them. ‘You ain’t got no right to scare kids like you did.’

‘Again, I’m sorry for that, but we were worried that Jerome might have started fighting if we hadn’t come in quickly, and we didn’t want him hurt. We certainly didn’t intend to scare your children.’ He smiled at the little girl with dreadlocks. ‘I’m sorry we were so noisy, but we’re not bad men,’ he said to her.

The child smiled through her tears.

‘We’re going to have to search your house, I’m afraid, to see if Jerome left any drugs or weapons here,’ Fogg continued. ‘It’d make things a lot easier if you could tell me about any weapons or drugs you know about.’

‘He don’t have no gun,’ said the woman. ‘I told him, no guns in the house.’

‘That’s good,’ said Fogg. ‘But we’re still going to have to look. And any damage that’s done during the search, we’ll repair it.’ He gestured up at the ceiling. ‘We’ll be removing all the chemicals and equipment from the attic, and that’s going to take some time, I’m afraid. But I’ve arranged for someone to take care of you and the children while we make the house safe.’

‘I don’t want to go. This is my house,’ said the woman. She hugged the two toddlers tightly. ‘You can’t make me go.’

Fogg smiled reassuringly. ‘They’ll give you breakfast and help entertain the kids, and as soon as we’ve finished they’ll bring you right back,’ he said. He nodded at Castle. ‘This is Carolyn, she’ll take you outside. And if you have any problems in getting the damage repaired, you call me – all right? Roy Fogg. Okay?’

The woman nodded. ‘Okay.’

‘If you want to take anything with you, tell Carolyn and she’ll help,’ he said.

Castle took the woman and the two small children out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Shepherd flipped up his visor as Fogg came out of the bedroom. ‘You’ve got a soft side, then, Sarge,’ he said.

‘She’s not the villain here,’ Fogg said. ‘And you’ve got to be careful because entries like this can very easily turn racial. If she goes out screaming and alleging abuse then the neighbours will get riled up and before long bottles’ll be thrown and all hell breaks loose. But if she goes quietly then all’s sweetness and light.’

Parry came up the stairs. ‘Just putting him on the bus now, Sarge,’ he said.

‘Any problems?’

‘He’s a bit verbal but KFC and Colgate have him under control.’

Fogg jerked a thumb at the main bedroom. ‘You help Nipple give that room a going over, then do downstairs.’

‘What about me, Sarge?’ asked Shepherd.

‘You stay where you are,’ said Fogg. ‘Keep the hatch secure until the Noddy suits get here. We don’t want Alleyne claiming we planted a meth lab on him.’ Fogg headed downstairs. ‘Lurpak, start on the kids’ bedroom. No stone unturned.’

Coker removed his protective gloves and took a pair of purple search gloves from the pouch on the back of his belt. He put them on as he climbed the stairs. ‘I just hope they’re not bed-wetters,’ he said, as he passed Shepherd.

Shepherd took off his helmet. He watched Parry and Simmons methodically searching the main bedroom. Parry went through the drawers of a pine chest while Simmons stripped off the bedding and tilted the mattress on its side. Shepherd heard footsteps on the stairs and turned to see Kelly and Turnbull heading up. They, too, had taken off their helmets and replaced their bulky protective gloves with purple plastic ones.

‘How did it go?’ asked Shepherd.

‘He banged his head a bit getting onto the bus,’ said Kelly.

‘Against KFC’s knee,’ said Turnbull.

The two officers went into the small bedroom where Coker was sorting through a large tea chest full of toys. Turnbull went down on his hands and knees and checked under the bunk bed, while Kelly opened the doors to a wardrobe and began pulling out clothes and dropping them onto the floor.

There was a crash from the main bedroom and Shepherd jumped. He went to the door. Simmons was standing in the middle of the room, looking at the shards of what had once been a glass vase. ‘Whoops,’ he said.

‘Butterfingers!’ shouted Turnbull.

‘I’d give you a hand but Foggy says I’ve got to guard the hatch,’ said Shepherd.

‘Yeah, in case it runs off,’ said Turnbull, pulling off a pillowcase and feeling his way along the pillow.

Shepherd turned. Across the hallway he saw Coker holding something. It looked like a towel, but when he unwrapped it Shepherd saw that it was a gun. A revolver. Coker held it up and said something to Kelly, who turned from the wardrobe. As he did so, Coker slid the gun inside his stab vest. As he adjusted the vest, he saw Shepherd. Their eyes locked. There was no telltale bulge where Coker had put the gun, and for a second Shepherd wondered if he’d imagined it. But there was no mistaking the hardness in Coker’s eyes. Shepherd swallowed but his mouth had gone dry. He coughed to cover his discomfort. Coker continued to stare at him, his face impassive. It felt as if they had locked eyes for hours but Shepherd knew that it had only been a few seconds at most. He gave Coker the slightest of nods, then turned his back on him and watched Simmons carefully picking up the pieces of glass in the main bedroom.

Coker and Kelly said nothing in the van as the team headed back to Paddington Green and they went off to the canteen together as soon as they’d parked up. By the time Shepherd had changed out of his uniform there was still no sign of them. He waited until he was back in the house in Kilburn before phoning Charlotte Button and telling her what he’d seen. ‘So Coker’s bad,’ she said.

‘I can’t see any other reason for him taking the gun,’ said Shepherd.

‘And he hasn’t spoken to you?’

‘Went AWOL as soon as we got back to base. I’m guessing he was hiding the gun somewhere.’

‘And Kelly saw it?’

‘Coker said something to him just before he slid it inside his vest.’

‘So that’s two,’ said Button. ‘Well done. What about Fogg? Or Dawson?’

‘Dawson was at the back of the house, and I didn’t see him connect with Coker or Kelly. Fogg was downstairs when Coker took the gun.’

‘Be nice to know if either of them knows what Coker did.’

‘Agreed,’ said Shepherd. ‘But it’s a difficult subject to bring up in general conversation. Coker knows I saw him, so I guess he’s going to have to mention it at some point. If nothing else he’s going to want to know what I’m going to do.’

‘There’s no doubt about what you saw, or that he knows you saw him?’

‘It was definitely a gun, a revolver, and we had eye-contact. He was looking right at me.’

‘Okay,’ said Button. ‘So let’s let it run a while longer, see who else you can nail.’

‘No problem,’ said Shepherd.

‘You don’t think Coker will see you as a threat now?’

‘It’s possible, but I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself.’

‘I’ve no doubt on that score,’ said Button. ‘But if you need anything, let me know.’ She ended the call.

Shepherd switched on the kettle and opened the fridge door to see what he had to eat. He’d been so busy at work that he hadn’t had time to do any shopping so all he had was a pack of corned beef and two eggs that had passed their sell-by date. His mobile rang and he closed the fridge door. The caller had withheld his ID. Shepherd pressed the green button to accept the call. ‘Is that Mr Shepherd?’

‘Yes,’ said Shepherd, hesitantly. ‘Who’s this?’

‘DC Cooper at Hereford. Where are you, Mr Shepherd?’

‘I’m not sure that’s any business of yours,’ said Shepherd.

‘Are you in Hereford?’

‘Why do you want to know?’

‘I’d be grateful if you’d answer my questions, Mr Shepherd.’

‘How grateful?’

‘What do you mean?’ said Cooper, confused.

‘You said you’d be grateful. I asked how grateful.’ The kettle switched itself off and Shepherd held the phone between neck and shoulder as he spooned coffee into the cafetière.

‘I hope you’re not going to be difficult.’

‘Why? Are you going to arrest me for being difficult?’

‘I don’t understand your attitude,’ said the detective.

‘I think there’s a lot that you don’t understand,’ said Shepherd. ‘Why are you bothering me?’ He poured hot water onto the coffee grounds.

‘I need to know where you are, Mr Shepherd.’

‘And I need to know why you need to know. And if you don’t tell me I’m going to end this call right now.’

There was a long pause, and Shepherd guessed that Cooper had put his hand over the mouthpiece and was talking to someone else, probably his sergeant. Eventually Cooper came back on the line. ‘Jorgji Talovic has gone missing, and I need to rule you out as a suspect,’ he said.