Fear the Past Page 21

“I’ll not insult you by asking you not to think less of me, Son. I know that’ll be impossible. Not a day passes where I don’t question what we did back then. What I did.”

  “What did you do… cut a deal?” Caslin asked, failing to keep the disdain from his tone. It was far from a leap to realise the upshot of what occurred that day bearing in mind the absence of detail in the files and how MacEwan didn’t see time inside for his role.

  “Bradley negotiated it,” his father said, staring down and refusing to meet Caslin’s eye. “We hadn’t made it common knowledge where we were going and so… no one knew. Bradley and Wyer went back a way and… I think they weren’t strangers to helping themselves to things they came across if you know what I mean?”

  “I know the type.”

  “Anyway, Bradley wasn’t sure about me. He didn’t know if I was one of them.”

  “Whether you’d be willing to take a cut?” Caslin clarified. His father nodded.

  “I felt intimidated. Threatened. Not that I’m diminishing my role in any way. I was there and just as culpable as the others. As it turned out, Keith Wyer vouched for me and it sort of… happened.”

  “Dad… for the love of…” the words tailed off as Caslin’s head sank into his hands.

  “Like I said… I was a mess. Most of the time I could barely hold it together and… I figured I had nothing to lose. Your mother was gone. You boys…”

  “I’m not letting you pin the guilt of this one on me, Dad. Not this time!” Caslin snapped. The silhouette of the armed guard, visible through the opaque glass, turned at the door at the sound of the raised voice. Seconds later he turned away again. Caslin lowered his voice. “What were you thinking?” he hissed barely above the sound of a whisper.

  “That’s just it, Nathaniel,” his father said quietly. “I wasn’t really thinking at all.”

  “How much?”

  “Did we take?”

  “Forty pieces of silver?”

  “If you think I’m proud of what I did… what we did, then you are mistaken,” his father said, reaching out and gripping Caslin’s forearm.

  “How much?” Caslin repeated.

  “An even split,” he explained. “An even split of everything MacEwan had in his possession.”

  “How the hell did you make that fly?” Caslin said, shock evident in his tone. “I mean, you’re talking millions of pounds.”

  “Well, it wasn’t all MacEwan’s. Obviously, he couldn’t give away the share of everyone else. These people were serious criminals. MacEwan took the arrangement further up the chain and smoothed things over. Their network was already in place and having us onboard gave them a shield from the investigation. MacEwan himself was also highly motivated to avoid some serious jail time. It was not the millions you’re talking of but still a lot by anyone’s standards.”

  “The people further up the chain, did you ever meet them… get to know their names?”

  “No, not at all. We all figured that was for the best.”

  “But how did you manage to keep it quiet?” Caslin asked, profoundly impressed whilst disgusted in equal measure.

  “That would have been impossible, so we took precautions. Each of us agreed not to touch our share for the foreseeable future. Not until we were out of the job. All of us. That way, we could move on with our lives, distancing ourselves from our past and no one would notice.”

  “No one would notice? You mean, you’d bypass friendships… even family so your change in circumstances would go unnoticed?”

  “Exactly. Out of sight, out of mind,” his father said. “How many of your friends do you still speak to since you left the Yard? Not many, I’ll bet. It wouldn’t take much. Move to a new location, retire abroad.” Caslin could see the logic. He could count the people on one hand – two fingers if he was honest about it. “Time would pass. The money would be there. We just had to bide our time before we could lay our hands on it.”

  Caslin let out a deep sigh, “And MacEwan, how did he feel about this?”

  “Once he was in the clear, he went to Spain. That was the last dealing I had with him. I only found out he was back on the scene recently.”

  “What about the others? I can’t see how the rest of the gang benefitted from this little arrangement.”

  “They didn’t,” his father told him. “MacEwan handed them to us on a plate. After all, he was in the clear and the more of them who went down the greater his share became.”

  “I still don’t see how you managed to keep this quiet. Who else was in on it?”

  His father shrugged, “Besides Bradley, Keith and myself… I’ve no idea but there could have been others. With hindsight, there almost certainly were but remember most of the officers around the investigation were from another patch. I didn’t know them and I never asked. Didn’t want to know.”

  “For Bradley to get such a massive career break and never to rank higher than DCI, there must have been something else going on. Did anyone wonder how you guys got the breakthroughs you did?”

  “None of us took the credit. We did it through a series of anonymous tip offs. It was a slow and roundabout way of going about it but eventually the information would land on the right desks and arrests were made. For us to take the credit would have drawn too much attention to us. We couldn’t allow that and nor could MacEwan. If we’d hooked them all at the same time but left MacEwan out, then it would have been obvious. We all had to be invisible.”

  Caslin got off the edge of the bed his legs felt unsteady and he pulled over a chair. Sitting down, he rubbed at his cheeks with the palms of his hands before locking eyes with his father.

  “Where’s the money?”

  “It’s safe. I never touched it, not once and it’s been a long time since I had any intention of ever doing so. I want you to believe that. It’s important to me that you do,” he implored his son. “If I could change what I did back then… believe me, I would.”

  “It’s offshore?”

  “In various bank accounts, yes.”

  “Did everyone do the same?”

  “For the most part,” he explained. “Despite our best efforts at removing MacEwan from the focus of the investigation, he couldn’t continue the smelting operations. It’s quite a slow process and there was so much to do. So, he had to put all of that on hold.”

  “Are you saying there’s still gold bullion leftover from that raid sitting somewhere, out of circulation?”

  “Maybe. I don’t really know. Bradley promised to keep an eye on him - MacEwan. Once the deal was made with whoever was in charge, the remainder would be split between us, MacEwan and the lower elements of the gang. Bradley thought there was no way MacEwan could have moved what was ours on to the market without making waves. Bradley was wise to it. Besides, much of what was taken had already been shipped and without needing to pay back those who were sent down, MacEwan was sorted. He didn’t need to run the risk of double crossing us. We could all wait it out.”

  “What did Bradley want when he came to see you?”

  “He felt it was time to cash in.”

  “Apparently, he was suffering from cancer. From what we’ve found out about his secret life he was probably already living off of dodgy funds and it stands to reason he wanted to make the most of what time he may have left.”

  “Was it terminal?”

  Caslin shook his head, “I’ve no idea but even if not, maybe it gave him the motivation to move things along. You said the arrangement was to wait until you were all retired.”

  “Yes. That was what we agreed.”

  “Keith Wyer’s dead. You’ve been out of the job for years. Bradley faked his death a couple of years back so why now?”

  “I don’t know,” his father said. “I know he was back here with MacEwan. He said as much when he came to see me. I should imagine they were hatching some kind of plan for the remainder but I wanted no part of it.”

  “No part of what?”

  “I didn’t ask. I didn’t wa
nt to know and I told him as much too.”

  Caslin thought about it allowing the information to sink in. It was going to take time. Of all the eventualities he’d considered in this case this particular outcome would never have crossed his mind as plausible. How should he feel about it – about his father – he had no idea?

  “What did Jody Wyer ask of you?”

  His father fell quiet, appearing pensive. A few moments passed where the silence weighed heavily on both of them. “I think he was hoping his father would live up to the memories he still held of him.”

  “What did you tell him?” Caslin asked.

  “Nothing. I couldn’t destroy the lad’s memories, so I sent them away. I thought we could bury it forever,” his father said, his gaze drifting down to meet Caslin’s eye. “No son should ever have to face his father’s demons.”

  “It looks to me as if someone else has figured out what was going on,” Caslin replied flatly, folding his arms before him. His father realised the inference of those words.

  “What happens now?”

  Caslin stood up and crossed the short distance to stand next to his father. Placing a reassuring hand on his arm, he smiled weakly and gently shook his head. “I honestly don’t know.”

  “It had to come out eventually, I suppose.”

  “I’ll figure something out,” Caslin replied, and not for the first time those words sounded hollow. He had no idea how to resolve the situation.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Back at Fulford Road, Caslin reached the door to their investigation room but held off from entering. Looking through the inset window, he eyed both Hunter and Holt busying themselves. They were working hard, especially so since his family had come under threat. The nagging question, one he’d wrestled with from the moment his father had broken his silence right up to this point, was still churning through his mind. His duty as a police officer was clear, his duty to his family equally so. The problem was the two roles were not necessarily compatible with each other in this situation. A uniformed constable appeared at the end of the corridor catching his eye. Forced into action, he spun and walked confidently into the room. Greeted by both of them, he beckoned them to come together.

  “I’ve got a lead on our mysterious redhead,” he said, sounding upbeat. “She was introduced as Louise but I’ve not got a surname. Terry, can you run it through the information we have and see if that name comes up associated with, or related to, anyone we already know?”

  “Will do, sir,” Holt replied, setting to work.

  “How did you come by the name?” Hunter asked, coming alongside Caslin.

  “I met with a source,” he replied, meeting her eye briefly and looking away immediately concerned she would see straight through him. Glancing back up, he raised his eyebrows and explained, “Jody Wyer introduced them.”

  “That’s great. It gives us something,” she said.

  “Better than that it would appear MacEwan is back in the frame for fencing the proceeds of the Manchester raid back in the 80s. My source fingers him as the ringleader who smelted the stolen gold and also arranged for it to be shipped out of the country. The word is there is still more to be had and that’s where we need to focus.”

  “Your source,” Hunter asked. “How credible is it?”

  Caslin took a deep breath unsure of what to say. “If you’d asked me that last month I would have said impeccable but right now I’d say it was it’s worth serious consideration. Good enough?”

  “Of course.”

  “It looks very much as if MacEwan not only ripped off his co-conspirators when it came to the laundering of what was stolen, but he is also implicated in giving them up to us over a period of time following the robbery.”

  “So, it wasn’t Fuller who grassed on Neville Bridger?” Hunter said, open-mouthed. Caslin shook his head.

  “Doesn’t look like it, no.”

  “And Fuller himself?” Holt asked, glancing up from the paperwork he was sifting through. “Did MacEwan sell him out too?”

  “I’m pretty certain, yes,” Caslin confirmed. “What’s more, I think Fuller might have worked it out.”

  “After all this time? How?” Hunter queried.

  “That… I haven’t figured out yet but I’m confident that’s the case. He may not know it all but he’s getting there.”

  “What makes you so sure of that?” she asked.

  “MacEwan is still alive,” Caslin said. “Perhaps Fuller wants his money seeing as he’ll be getting out soon or he doesn’t have all the facts yet. It’ll only be a matter of time though. I want us to focus on how and where MacEwan would be likely to store stolen bullion for the last thirty years and how he’s planning on taking it out of the country under these circumstances. He’s savvy enough to know where the heat will be coming from, both us and Fuller’s crew, and he’ll want to move it to where he feels safe and that’s not here.”

  “Spain?” Hunter suggested.

  “My thoughts exactly,” Caslin agreed. “With Fuller nipping at his heels, MacEwan will no doubt want to make the move soon so let’s get on it.”

  “We had to release both Ashton and Carl this morning,” Hunter advised him. “We had no grounds to hold them for any longer.”

  “That’ll expedite things a little. More motivation for MacEwan,” Caslin said before heading for the sanctuary of his office and breathing a sigh of relief that he’d managed the briefing without giving too much away. How long he could keep it up for, he didn’t know.

  “Sir,” Hunter called after him as he reached the threshold of his office. He turned to face her. “All of this started with the bombing of the Fullers’ premises.”

  “Yes.”

  “What sparked that?”

  Caslin had already formulated a theory but would admit the details were sketchy. “I think Bradley and MacEwan were working together to launder the proceeds of the robbery. Bradley’s faked death plays into it nicely. Who would look for a bent copper when he’s already dead? Both of them came back here at the same time for a reason. Whether that was triggered by Fuller’s forthcoming release or not, I don’t know but that’s what they’re here for. And if you’re looking to pick someone’s pocket… again, it would be best if that person was looking in the other direction when you do.”

  “A distraction,” Hunter said. “Have Fuller and his entire organisation geared up against the likes of Clinton Dade.”

  “Exactly. I wouldn’t rule out them having put a hit out on Dade just to stoke the fires further,” Caslin theorised. “If two rival gangs are looking to tear the other apart - what better smokescreen to use in order to slip out with a lot of their money?”

  “It follows,” Hunter said, “but it’s thin.”

  Caslin nodded, “I know but I want us to run with it.”

  “And where do the Bridger boys fit in to all of this? I mean, if they thought Fuller had got their father sent down but in reality, it was MacEwan… how come one of them is working for him?”

  “MacEwan’s been playing one side off against another for decades giving them and us the run around. Do you reckon he would think twice about the manipulation of two young lads with an axe to grind? Think about it.”

  Hunter frowned, seemingly unconvinced. “If Fuller knew about Bradley, assuming your source is correct, why would he tip off MacEwan by eliminating Bradley? Surely, he would be better off following them to where they’ve been keeping it and taking retribution then. It would make more sense, wouldn’t it?”

  Caslin had to admit the logic was sound. “Maybe he wants MacEwan to make his move.”

  “To flush him out?”

  “Makes sense too,” Caslin argued.

  “In which case, when we take down MacEwan we’ll probably have to contend with Fuller’s goons at the same time,” Hunter concluded. “What makes you so sure Fuller is on to this? Your source, who is it?”

  “I’d prefer not to say at the moment,” Caslin replied. Hunter’s eyes narrowed but she
said nothing. He turned and walked into his office. With his back to them both, he let out a sigh and closed his eyes attempting to settle his breathing. The less the team knew about his father’s role in this the better, for the time being at least. There would come a time when that would no longer be possible and he feared that wasn’t too far away.

  It was Fuller’s own words that implied he knew the score. When he told Caslin to look closer to home he was referring to far more than the safety of his family. Fuller knew. Caslin was sure of it but he had chosen not to say. Nothing would have him removed from this case faster than having his father implicated right at the heart of it. The gangster was playing the game by his rules and Caslin had to work out what his next move was likely to be as well as how to counter it. He felt a sharp stab of pain in the back of his head – a well-recognised symptom that manifested when he was under times of significant stress. Pressing a thumb and forefinger into both his eyes, he sought to relieve it.

  “I’ve got it,” an excited shout carried from the other room. Caslin turned to see the animated form of Terry Holt celebrating his eureka moment. He saw Caslin looking through the window. Hunter went to him, looking over his shoulder. “I’ve found Louise!”

  Caslin came out of his office and joined them, eager to put a face to the ghost they’d been searching for. Looking at the screen, he noticed Holt had a social media page up.

  “Do I pay you for surfing this?” he asked playfully. Holt laughed.

  “Quickest way to find a picture,” he explained.

  Caslin spied the name – Louise Bennett. “Do we know her?”

  Holt shook his head. “No. She’s not known to the police.”

  “Who is she?” Caslin asked.

  “I cross checked the names of everyone involved in the case starting with the most recent - those we’re investigating now or have spoken with in the past week - and it didn’t take long. She’s divorced but kept her married name. You’d know her better by her maiden,” Holt said, opening another tab on the screen and displaying a gallery of photos she had uploaded to her page. Scrolling down, he found what he was looking for and double-clicked on it. The computer took a few seconds to process the request before enlarging the image in the middle of the screen. A picture of an attractive, redheaded woman appeared, seated on what looked like a sea wall and taken on a bright and warm day judging by their clothing. She was with an older man and woman, both standing behind her, the man with a hand on her shoulder. It was a family picture but was unlikely to be recent. Caslin recognised the man and knew his current appearance resembled someone far more aged, if not haggard, than he was depicted here.