Fred nodded.
‘
And two to Jamaica, to his father, boss.
’
Brookes frowned.
‘
I wonder if that
’
s just because he loves his dad or to do with business.
’
After a pause he added,
‘
I think we can assume he knows more than a bit about Silver
’
s business. When we take him down, we
’
ll have to keep him in the high security nick at Paddington. Once we
’
ve interviewed him and charged him with the murder, S.O. Twenty-three will want to spend some time with him.
’
Again, no one spoke when he paused.
‘
I think we
’
d best bring our plan forward. The longer Fleming is out there, the more danger he is in, and alive he might be the key to other arrests. I think we
’
ll have to move on him straight away.
’
He looked at his watch.
‘
What is it now, four o
’
clock? Let
’
s see where he goes when he leaves the office. If he goes straight home, we
’
ll arrest him there. If he runs to Silver, we
’
ll know he
’
s probably in on the murder and we
’
ll bring him in. Our team can cope with Fleming on his own but if Silver is involved we
’
ll need your help, Paul. Can you have a team ready to assist from six this evening?
’
‘
No trouble, guv. I
’
ll get on the blower now.
’
‘
Good, that
’
s the plan then. Let
’
s all have something to eat. Everyone back here at five ready to move, Derek.
’
The meeting broke up.
*
Two hours later, Liz Foreman and Stumpy Gerrard still sat in the coffee shop opposite the offices of Luxury Homes Abroad. They had watched the three girls leave the office five minutes ago. Now they saw the manager coming out. He turned and locked the door behind him. Only then did they realise that something was amiss; he would hardly lock his boss in the building.
Stumpy jumped up, saying over his shoulder,
‘
Keep watching the garage exit, Liz, I
’
ll check with the manager.
’
He ran across the road and spoke to the man. Then Liz saw him slap himself on the head and pull out his radio.
The message came across clearly,
‘
All units, all units. Fleming
’
s done a runner. The manager
’
s just locked up; he says that Fleming left at four.
’
*
Twenty minutes later, an embarrassed Liz Foreman was explaining to Brookes what had happened. She and Stumpy Gerrard had last seen Fleming through the glass windows of the office, talking to his manager at about three. He
’
d then gone into his private office. This had a mirrored door so they could not see into his inner sanctum. They questioned the manager and discovered that there was a fire escape door at the back of the building that Fleming was able to access from his office via a back passage; this in turn led to a footpath that ran alongside the rear of the building, coming out close to the train station. The detectives had not done their homework properly.
The manager told them that Fleming had called him into his office at about 4pm to say that he was leaving early. He had over a two hour start. But his BMW was still parked in the underground car park, so he was on foot.
Brookes was fuming inside but said nothing; crying over spilt milk wouldn
’
t achieve anything. Foreman and Gerrard knew what a serious blunder they
’
d made and they knew the rules; everyone made the occasional mistake but if you made too many, you were out on your ear. But it wasn
’
t entirely their fault; Brookes should have thought of the possibility of a rear exit.
Brookes was already thinking ahead. To Middlemiss he said,
‘
Get over to Fleming
’
s apartment and see what you can find. I don
’
t care how you get in; see if there
’
s a caretaker, if not, smash the damned door down. I expect we
’
ll be too late but we must try. See if his passport is there. And if you find any evidence relating to the murder, don
’
t touch it until Derek sends you the search warrant. No mistakes, Fred.
’
Middlemiss simply nodded.
Brookes turned to Rose.
‘
Jacqui, get on to Special Branch, put an all ports warning on Fleming. If he
’
s on the run, he
’
ll leave the country if he can.
’
Then as an afterthought, he shouted after Fred Middlemiss,
‘
Fred, we need a photograph of Fleming, see if there is one at his flat. He might just have a false passport. Get the photo faxed to Special Branch as quickly as you can and let me know what
’
s happening as soon as it happens. Now get cracking.
’
The detectives left quickly to perform their various tasks. Brookes returned to the Incident Room.
*
At ten minutes past midnight, Brookes was woken from a deep sleep by the insistent ringing of his phone. For a moment he was disorientated, wondering which bed he was in. Then he recognised the familiar surroundings; he was at home.
He grunted into the mouthpiece and listened for a moment, then said,
‘
OK, I
’
m on my way
’
.
Arriving at the Incident Room, he went straight to Short
’
s desk. He waited impatiently while the DI finished a phone call.
Eventually, he put the phone down.
‘
Yes, boss, I thought you
’
d want to come in. A security camera at The City Airport caught someone who they think is Fleming, booking onto a flight to Paris at five thirty pm. If it is him, he
’
s travelling under an assumed name; there
’
s no Fleming on the passenger list. Fred and Bob Phillips are there now; they
’
ll phone here when they have something.
’
He continued,
‘
There was nothing useful at Fleming
’
s flat except a recent photo. He obviously left in a great hurry, as he hasn
’
t taken much with him. It looks as if he saw the writing on the wall when you interviewed him.
’
Brookes frowned.
‘
What about his passport? He must have one in his own name.
’
‘
No, there was no sign of a passport.
’
‘
OK, in the morning get a court order to put a stop on his bank account, although it may be too late. Didn
’
t Richard Mann say that he has accounts abroad?
’
Short nodded.
‘
Yes, boss.
’
The phone rang and Short picked it up. After a moment, he said into the mouthpiece,
‘
Just a minute, Fred, the boss is here, you
’
d better tell it to him.
’
He handed the receiver to Brookes.
‘
What have you got, Fred?
’
‘
Yes boss, it seems he
’
s travelling under the name of Jason Henderson. He left on the five-thirty pm flight to Paris. I
’
ve checked the security tape; it
’
s definitely him. Special Branch are on to their opposite numbers in Paris and are trying to find out where he went from there. They
’
ll let DI Short know as soon as they have some info.
‘
We searched his flat. No passport but he
’
s a computer nerd and there
’
s tons of stuff that
’
ll have to be gone through. His bathroom cabinet is full of drugs but we didn
’
t touch anything as you told us not to; it looks as if he
’
s some kind of hypochondriac. It seems as if Fleming did a runner straight from the office and never went back to the flat. He must have been ready to go and just left everything behind. What do you want us to do now?
’
Brookes resisted the urge to say something cutting. Instead he said,
‘
Get a good description of what he was wearing and anything he was carrying then get back here to the office.
’
He put the phone down.
He sat thinking for a while then said aloud,
‘
Now where in the world is he going to run to?
’
Another thought was trying to force its way to the surface of his mind. He turned to Short.
‘
Put a flag on the file to get onto Passport Office in the morning and find out where and when a passport was issued to Jason Henderson.
’
Short replied,
‘
Yes, boss.
’
He already had that in hand but thought it wiser not to say so.
‘
You get off home, Derek,
’
Brookes suggested.
‘
I
’
ll wait for Fred to report back. Get some sleep, I
’
ve a feeling we
’
re all going to need it.
’
*
‘
If you can find a path with no obstacles, it probably doesn
’
t lead anywhere.
’
Unknown origin
The ringing of the telephone woke Brookes at 6.30am as usual. He
’
d managed just a few hours sleep and felt groggy. A shower and a strong black coffee had little effect and his mood was dark as he made his way down to the waiting car.
Rose, who
’
d had the luxury of a good night
’
s sleep, greeted him brightly. He managed to grunt a response. She immediately picked up on his mood and there was little conversation on the journey to Leman Street.
Arriving at the Incident Room, they found they were the first to arrive. Derek Short had overslept. In a strange way, this made Brookes feel better; it was reassuring to find that others also had difficulty keeping up the pace.
There were two messages on his desk. The first said that at 10pm the previous night, a Jason Wilson had boarded an Air France flight at Paris Orly Airport bound for Aine Cesaire Airport, Fort De France, on the Caribbean Island of Martinique. He
’
d been travelling alone, carrying just hand luggage. Airport security cameras confirmed that it was Fleming.
Brookes cursed.
Rose, who was busy brewing coffee, glanced at him but diplomatically said nothing.
Seeing her glance, he said,
‘
Fleming is on a flight to Martinique. It will be a hell of a job getting him back from there; the French are not known for their co-operation.
’
‘
Is there anything I can do, sir; I speak French.
’
He gave her a searching look.
‘
Do you indeed? How good is your French?
’
‘
Pretty good, sir.
’
He held out the message.
‘
OK, there
’
s a phone number here for the police at Orly Airport. Give them a ring, see what else they can tell us; Martinique is one of their colonies, isn
’
t it?
’
‘
I think it
’
s called an overseas department actually, sir. I
’
ll give them a ring.
’
Brookes looked at the other message.
It said simply,
Phone Commander Aitcheson at CO ASAP
.
Brookes cursed again, this time under his breath. Aitcheson was the head of SO, (Special Operations), the department that ran all of the Met
’
s specialist crime squads, including Organised Crime and Fraud. Picking up the phone, he dialled Aitcheson
’
s direct number. The phone was answered immediately; Aitcheson was another early bird.