(Jonathan Roper Investigates Boxset Page 22

  Minutes later it was established that no one had seen him since the morning, although one of the detectives reported that he had seen him apparently downloading files on to a flash drive.

  “I wonder what information the sod has taken with him,” said Hooley a short while later as a small team raced round to Malone’s home address, an expensive looking modern apartment building close to the Cromwell Road and the private Cromwell Hospital.

  “I would say this is a bit beyond Mr. Malone’s police pay scale,” said Hooley, eyeing the building. He was in the command vehicle which had been shifted from Mayfair. Before Roper could reply the SAS team had breached the front door and was inside the four bedroom apartment.

  Within minutes the news came back that the place was empty. Hooley and Roper rushed to see for themselves but discovered that the flat had been totally cleared of information. No computers and no documents.

  Hooley resisted the urge to kick the walls. He told Roper. “I suppose it was a bit much to hope he was sitting here waiting for us. At least we’ve got his picture being issued to all the media so his ugly mug will be everywhere soon. And if he tries to leave the country we’ll get him.”

  Chapter 69

  It was just after 4am and Roper and Hooley were walking into work. Both men had spent a restless night and over a 2.30am cup of tea had agreed they would make an early start. Roper was a bundle of nervous energy. He had spent the night trying to work out where Malone might have got to. Checking in with the duty team before they had set off confirmed there was still no sighting of him.

  Hooley was feeling washed out. He’d been woken several times by a nightmare where someone was hunting him in the dark. He’d finally given up all hope of decent sleep at 2am when he had woken with his heart pounding and covered in cold sweat. This time he had no recollection of what the nightmare was but decided enough was enough. He took a long, hot shower, put on his dressing gown and went into the kitchen, where he found Roper filling the kettle.

  Now they were on a circuitous route which would take them past a cafe that opened very early. The DCI was contemplating a double-whammy of extra-strong cappuccino and a bacon sandwich with tomato sauce. It would either blast him awake or give him a heart attack. He didn’t care which. Looking at Roper, who was almost bouncing with energy, he figured a glass of water might be the best thing.

  Food and drink on board they walked past the paper seller at Victoria Station. Hooley grabbed a Daily Mail and The Times. His soccer team had managed to progress to the semi-finals of the Champions League after a breathless encounter with the German side Bayern Munich. When he got the chance, he was going to allow himself a short break to read the match reports.

  Roper sat at his desk and was rapidly deep in to the internet. Hooley placed his newspapers on the far edge of his desk. He didn’t want to get distracted and started to work his way through the overnight reports. He thought about going to have a look at David Jones and Dan Sykes on the floor below, but decided it would be better to wait for them to have breakfast, which wouldn’t be for a few hours yet.

  He was just prioritising the rest of the day when Mayweather appeared in the doorway. Despite the early hour she was immaculately turned out and looked as fresh as a daisy.

  “You look terrible,” she told him. The blow only slightly softened by the sympathetic smile that accompanied it. “I take it neither of you were able to sleep? Neither could I. I came in at 2am because I couldn’t stand sitting around at home. Since you’re both in, let’s have a catch-up in fifteen minutes.”

  Hooley gave her a thumbs up and then looked to see if Roper had been paying attention. He was surprised to see he had his head tilted forty-five degrees to the left and was looking at one of the headlines on the front of the Times. He had just made out that it said something about Heathrow when Roper groaned loudly.

  “What’s the matter?

  “I’ve just remembered that thing I have been trying for all night. It goes back to when I was suspended.” He checked his diary for the date. “Six months and four days ago. Gary Malone said something to me. He said he had just passed his pilot’s exam and promised he would take me for a flight if I was allowed back to work.”

  “That was the day when I was ordered out of the building. It was a bad day for me and I put everything out of my mind. He told me he had access to a plane at Biggin Hill. He claimed he just hired it, but I bet he bought it with the money he was making from his criminal activity.”

  Hooley felt all trace of tiredness vanish. Within minutes he had an armed team, who had been on stand-by all night, on their way. They were going to be dropped at Biggin Hill by helicopter and just needed to get to Battersea Heliport. Meanwhile, one of the duty detectives was on the phone to air traffic control asking them to stop any flights out of Biggin Hill.

  “Apparently it is still early enough for flights to have only just started so hopefully we might get him,” said the detective.

  Time seemed to slow but in reality, events were moving fast as they waited for information. Then a call came in from Biggin Hill. They had their man. Cheering erupted in the squad office and people came through to shake hands with Roper; something that had never happened before. The arrest had been quite dramatic. Malone had decided to defy the no take-off call and was taxiing his Cessna 208 towards the runway. Only sharp work by a patrol car, driven flat out, had prevented him getting airborne.

  “I’d have had the bugger shot down anyway,” claimed Hooley.

  Arriving back at Victoria, Malone was taken none too gently, to the holding cells. Upstairs the only argument was whether Roper was in the interrogation room asking questions or outside observing. It was decided to start him inside.

  “We need to know where the women are, and how many there are. Sykes is still playing silly buggers and we are running out of time. Everything else can wait,” said Mayweather, as Hooley and Roper prepared to go and talk to him.

  Chapter 70

  Studying Malone as he sat in the interview room Roper noticed the IT expert was much bigger than he had remembered. He was over six-feet tall and solidly built. Yet despite his bulk he had surprisingly petite features and small hands with long fingers. He realised it was looking at his hands that had deceived him. Only now did he see how out of proportion they were to the rest of Malone’s body. He had a high forehead and round face, leading him to be dubbed the “Mekon” by his police colleagues. But he had been well-liked. Not only did his arrival usually sort out some technical problem, he was ready with a joke and a smile that put people at ease. This made the idea that he had betrayed them all even worse.

  Looking at him now, wearing a white t-shirt bearing the legend ‘Eton Rifles’, he wondered how many other crimes he’d been involved in. With Malone determinedly ignoring all questions there was a moment of quiet. Hooley was thinking the man might have been a clone of Dan Sykes with the determined way he was protecting his secrets. Roper kept thinking this was someone he’d thought of as one of his few friends. In fact, he had tricked him and told lies.

  Malone broke the silence. “I hope you never thought I was like you, Roper. A useless loser scared of his own shadow. I know you thought we were pals but you were wrong. All I had to do was say “Hello Jonathan” and “Wotcher Jonathan”. You were so easy to fool because no one else spoke to you. So, the great Jonathan Roper turns out to be stupid after all.”

  Hooley hated this abuse being thrown at Jonathan, but waited to see if Roper would stand up for himself. Which, to his delight, he did.

  “Yes, I did think you were my friend, and you really fooled me. Just don’t go thinking that makes you the big man. I’m easy to fool because I can’t read people. It’s happened to me at school, at university and even here, thanks to you, so no big deal. I’ve got used to it.” He leaned across the table, getting as close as he could.

  “Here’s a thought though. What you should be thinking about is that it was me who worked out what you were doing.” He jabbed himself in
the chest. “Me. The bloke you just said was stupid. So, if I’m so stupid then what does that make you?”

  Roper stopped talking and folded his arms. Malone had gone white and looked almost shocked. Hooley was amazed, and a little proud.

  Malone’s reaction showed that he had also been taken by surprise. Hooley decided to try and use the moment to gain leverage. He said. “Why don’t you tell us where the women are? Go easy on yourself. If you help us now we can make sure you spend your jail time on a hospital wing where you should be safe.

  “And you do need to talk to us because your fellow conspirators are talking non-stop. Even Dan Sykes.”

  He stopped while he held the man’s gaze for a moment before carrying on. “Then you were raping them to get them pregnant. Did that make you feel like a big man, attacking women who couldn’t fight back? Apparently, some of the victims were underage so that makes you a paedophile as well as a cold-blooded killer. So, you see, you need to talk to me to stand any chance that what’s going to be left of your miserable life is bearable.”

  If Hooley was hoping this would penetrate Malone’s defenses he was swiftly disappointed.

  “Got any evidence to back that up, Mr. Policeman? Because I don’t recognise any of that. I’ve never been to any camps and that bloke you mentioned, I don’t know who that is. So, either you’re making it all up, or all you have are the words of losers who have been intimidated into making wild allegations. A good lawyer, and I do have one, will soon make sure you can’t use that in court.”

  The DCI had taken risk with bluff that Malone was involved in grabbing women, but was taken aback by the contemptuous reaction he got. He knew they needed some direct evidence to pull Malone in to what had happened at Mount Street.

  “I think you have forgotten that Tricia Williams was left behind. You probably thought she was dead but she’s tough and she’s going to make it through. Our forensics teams are pulling every scrap of DNA out of that basement so I bet it won’t be long before we have something on you.”

  Malone was sneering. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never heard of this woman.”

  He placed his hands on the table and stared at Hooley. “Let’s put this in simple terms so you can understand. You... have... got... nothing. The most you are going to get me for are some breaches of the Data Protection Act. I’ll be out in a few months. And, as I understand it, someone has come up with a formula that will let us live longer. So time in the nick is nothing really.”

  To Hooley’s surprise Roper stood up and left the interview room. He decided to make out it was a planned break and followed him out, leaving Malone staring at the door which had closed behind them.

  Chapter 71

  Outside he caught up with Roper. “What’s up? Why the sudden departure?”

  “There’s something that is just on the tip of my tongue. It’s important and it is to do with Malone. I just need a moment to work it out.”

  With that he leaned against the wall, pressing his face against the cool surface. He stood quite still for several minutes. Hooley left him to it and went to get a glass of water. He walked back to find Mayweather and the Major looking at the stationary Roper.

  He finally came back to life, pushing himself off the wall and saying, “It’s his t-shirt,” before heading back into the interview room. The three officers exchanged a look. Hooley shrugged and followed him in.

  Inside Roper didn’t bother to sit down, he stood with his arms crossed, staring at Malone. He had the hint of a smile on his face and it looked like this was annoying Malone.

  “Why have you got that stupid expression on your face?”

  “Your t-shirt. It’s just reminded me of something.”

  “What, that you have a total lack of style?”

  Roper was really grinning now.

  “I was just remembering you telling me how people always give away little clues, if you know how to look for them. Well your t-shirt has reminded me how much you like making lists, almost as much as I do. Your t-shirt made me think about lists of music singles.”

  Hooley had no idea where this was going but knew that if Roper was grinning then it must be good. Then he looked again at Malone and was surprised to see the man looked worried.

  Roper leaned towards Malone, he was enjoying himself. “’Eton Rifles’, a single by The Jam released in 1979. I know the Jam is one of your favourites, so I expect you know what I am going to say next. On the 26th of October 1979 they released Eton Rifles. That was followed on the 14th of March 1980 by ‘Going Underground’.”

  Malone suddenly launched himself across the room, his hands reaching for Roper’s throat but he produced another surprise. Seeming to have all the time in the world Roper straightened his right arm in front of him, turning his hand so that the meaty part of his palm caught Malone full on the nose. There was, to Hooley’s ears, a satisfying crunching sound and then Malone reeled back clutching his bleeding and broken nose.

  As Malone was treated by the duty medic, Hooley looked on with a grim smile. He turned to Roper. “I take it that ‘Going Underground’ means something to you and I’m hoping you’ve worked out where the victims are? Presumably Malone attacked you because he realised you had?”

  Roper nodded. He was anxious to get moving. “They’re still in Mayfair, in the basement. That’s the ‘Going Underground’, he gave himself away. I bet there’s a panic room down there that we missed when we were down there.”

  Minutes later they were in the back of a squad car heading for Mayfair.

  “Out of interest,” said Hooley. “Was that some sort of judo move you used on the lad back there? The way you caught him was just fantastic; your timing couldn’t have been better if you’d meant it.”

  Roper looked sheepish. “It was a total fluke. I was just raising my hands to keep him away and I sort of fell forwards. It was hitting him that stopped me falling over.”

  Hooley was still laughing as they arrived at Mount Street and Roper ran down to the lower basement to order everyone to complete silence. He called out a couple of times then shook his head and turned to Hooley. The DCI didn’t need any prompting, just moved into the centre of the vast space. He took a deep breath and bellowed: “ARSENAL”. Roper listened carefully and then asked him to do it again.

  This time he moved over to the car park area and asked Hooley to shout again, which he did, his voice starting to sound a little hoarse. Roper appeared to get his bearings and then got the DCI to yell again. This time Roper looked like a dog on the scent as he carefully inspected the corner which housed the elevator platform. He pressed a button on the wall which raised the platform to head height before studying the ground beneath, he spotted a small metal panel placed flush to the floor and put his foot on it. Immediately there was the sound of an electric motor and a large section of the floor started dropping. It had been created so expertly there was no trace of the outline until the floor section moved. Roper slowly disappeared as the platform dropped away by almost ten feet. Facing him was a wall with a door. He pushed it open.

  Inside were three young women, all unconscious and on the floor. Hooley, who had jumped on the platform as it began dropping started to shout for paramedics.

  Chapter 72

  To call the trial a sensation was an understatement but after months of bitter court battling Malone and Sykes were found guilty on counts of murder, kidnap, false imprisonment and people trafficking. David Jones was found guilty on accessory charges. The scientist David Francis remained on the run, but after his role was spelled out in court he was dubbed Dr Frankenstein by the press. After hearing the unanimous jury verdict, the judge told all three men that they would be sentenced after reports, but to expect large prison sentences.

  They were also advised that coming up with information that might reveal the whereabouts of David Francis, Tommy Burton and ‘French’ Pat could help their case. But as Hooley pointed out, Jones didn’t know and other two weren’t telling.

&
nbsp; The three women taken from the safe room survived in hospital for two weeks but were finally overcome by infections brought on by the extreme conditions they had been kept in. This information was used in the trial by the prosecution team, who also speculated that a similar fate must have befallen other women dragged into the medical experiments.

  During the course of the trial it emerged that Sir James Taylor had found out about the sinister methods behind production of the medicine that had cured his cancer. On the night he disappeared Malone had lured him to the east London warehouse where he was holding a series of dogfights. Malone said it had been his idea to leave only a torso to confuse the hunt for the philanthropist. He had seemed proud as he had explained it from the dock.

  Tricia Williams was making a slow recovery from her savage injuries. Most of the bones in her face had been broken as a result of the beating she took. She explained that Sykes had attacked her as she had attempted to help the three women escape.

  She also suffered brain injuries which had robbed her of any knowledge of the work she had been involved in, although experts were cautiously optimistic that she would regain her memories over time.

  As they walked away from the Old Bailey, Hooley reflected on the case and the way that Roper had risen to the challenge. He had truly established himself with the Special Investigations Unit, although most people still found him difficult to deal with.

  Later that evening they were going for a curry in the Balti House in Pimlico. Although Roper had moved back to his own place they both still enjoyed the food there. He would be catching up with Hooley later. First, he was heading over to the Chelsea and Westminster hospital where he would be visiting Tricia Williams. As she began her recovery the pair were turning into surprisingly good friends.

  THE END