Mersey Marina
9 – 45 p.m.
April 17th
A detective inspector from Liverpool police greeted Jaz and Tony. They showed him their diplomatic passes. The marina was lit up starkly by temporary lights and the generator feeding them was making a steady hum, creating a busy feeling at the scene.
On the jetty two bodies were laid out, lying on the cloths they’d been wrapped in. The detective led Jaz and Tony to the bodies. Face up the watch man could not be recognised, the bullet having exited by his nose taking a lot of flesh and bone with it. A gaping, red raw, butcher’s block nightmare greeted Jaz, who on seeing the ripped and jagged remains turned away, held her fist to her mouth and bit on her knuckles, sensations of nausea and shock flooding her body with adrenalin.
Tony had more experience. He took the photograph of Wally out. Taller than the watch man, Wally’s fatal bullet had exited his forehead, leaving his features in tact and enabling Tony to match the picture. Tony stared at the still white face, dead fish eyes dripping with Mersey water. Shot in the back of the head. Unarmed and shot in the back of the head. An unarmed family man shot in the back of the head. Tony’s face hardened and he tore his eyes away from Wally’s corpse.
“That your man?” The detective asked.
“Yes.”
“Can I ask what he was doing here?”
“He was here to check on recent boat arrivals. Seems he found the one we were looking for.”
“Was he armed?”
“We don’t know, but we don’t think so. He wasn’t the kind to go anywhere armed and we think he missed our warning.”
“The man he was looking for who is he?”
Tony pulled out a picture and some brief typed details.
“Doesn’t look like the usual terrorist.”
“He’s not a terrorist. He’s worse than that.” The detective went to hand it back. “No you can keep that.” Tony said.
“We’ll put out an alert. The owner of the marina says that the watch man’s blue Peugeot 107 is missing. We’ll chase it up.”
“So will we, thank you.” Tony turned to Jaz who was looking out over the Mersey “You okay now Jaz?”
Jaz quietly nodded.
“Was it Wally Tyson?”
“The one without a face, we’re assuming is the marina watch man. He was only twenty-one. The man with a face is Wally. Call Shadz and Terry, they’ll have got to Wally’s house by now. They’re waiting outside.” Jaz nodded and took out her phone. Tony took out his and called Fulton.
People in the watching room with Jack as he took Tony’s call confirming Wally’s death could have sworn he had tears in his eyes, some even heard a quiet sniff.
Jack gathered his choking voice, but Tony heard the strain when Jack’s voice came through.
“It’s half ten. Go over and see Wally’s wife with the others, sort out his loft equipment and look after her. David and Beaumont will have landed in a minute or two. I’ll call them and warn them. If they can get Spencer alive we can find out what they’re up to and who’s responsible.” Jack closed the phone and looked around the room full of people, computers and screens.
“Jack I’ve been looking at the routes David and Beaumont projected and…”
“Not now Amber. I’m going to get a drink.” He put a hand on the shoulder of the girl speaking. “I’m sorry. I’ll be back in ten minutes. I just need a drink.”
Jack headed for his office; he held back the moisture building in his eyes until safely in the lift he let it go and thought of Wally Tyson, a man he had known many years, a good friend, a man without whose help Jack would not have lived longer than nineteen eighty seven. When Magda saw his face, she moved towards him, but he waved her away. Shutting his office door and going to the cupboard he drew out a bottle of whisky and two glasses; he poured two measures, one in each glass.