Chapter 27 Parental Advice
Chan had really sunk to the depths of depravity, he was almost as bad the Mafia who killed and maimed at the slightest provocation. He had unfortunately followed suit with killing his own men because he wanted men who were as sensible as he thought he was.
Both Martin and Roland agreed that because of Chan’s bad temper he was never likely to reach his perfect zero of good conduct. They were both still in the dark room waiting for the chance to leave the building, but with the movement of Chan’s gang up and down the stairway as they moved the bodies of the guards who had previously guarded them, it was quite impossible. Martin felt sorry for the two men, because they never had the chance to explain how difficult it would be to watch two people who were too far away in distance although both rooms were side by side and just three feet away.
Had Chan been sensible he would have placed his prisoners in a room with one exit and the guards outside.
It was almost an hour before all was quiet on the stair well – it seemed to take the men ages to carry down the two bodies of the two men. It appeared that an argument between Chan and his gang members ensued after he had shot the two men. For one moment it sounded as if they were going to hang Chan, but a shot was heard by Martin and Roland followed by silence. A voice rang out and it wasn’t Chan’s voice. ‘Get moving all of you, don’t argue or some of you will get the same treatment.’
Martin was about to say something and he almost choked and had to take a deep breath to control his feelings.
‘That voice!’ he said to Roland. ‘I know that voice from somewhere!’
‘You work for the government for heaven’s sake, it can only be someone at your office.’
‘It sounds like Graham Goodall, he’s what we call a high flyer. His rank is two steps above mine. No! I’ll refuse to believe he’s gone bad. I must have a look and see.’
Before Roland could stop him, Martin was out of the room and up the stairs. He stopped quickly behind a group of men but his silent approach was not good enough as his shoe caught the top of the step and as he tried to stop himself falling, his hand struck the wall and he bumped into the last man. The man turned round. ‘What’s your game?’
‘’Sorry!’ mumbled Roland. ‘Where have you been? Martin was desperate for an answer. Before anyone could turn round to see what was going on behind them, Martin said he was accosted by a woman who didn’t know the meaning of the word NO! ‘Lucky devil!’ said the man and smiled and a few men laughed.
‘It’s nothing to laugh at,’ said the voice!’
Martin caught a glimpse of Graham and made a hasty retreat, grabbing hold of Roland’s hand who was standing in the doorway looking worried and yanked him along down the rest of the steps and out of the building. They ran like the wind. Roland’s heart was pounding so loud -he tried to shut his ears to the noise.
‘You there at the back, what are you grinning about?’
‘No! It wasn’t me, it was the chap behind me.’
‘There’s no one behind you.’
The man turned quickly. ‘Where’s ‘e gone?’
‘Who!’ said the voice.
‘There was someone standing ‘ere a minute ago.’
‘Better go and look and if you’re lying……!’
‘I’m not lying, honest, there was someone ere, wasn’t there chaps, they all ‘eard ‘im.’
The back line of men agreed that they heard someone arrive late and speak to them.
Half a dozen men rushed down the steps and out in the road and just managed to see in the distance two figures running round the corner. Two of the men started after them, but came back when they found there was no-one in sight. They trudged back and up the stairs. Other men were coming down by then to drive the lorry round to one of Luigi’s warehouses.
The men reported back to Chan and stated that they had seen two persons running at the top of the road and Simon and Harry had followed suit, but could not find them or anybody else.
Chan remarked ‘Failure again!’
‘Can’t be helped.’ said Goodall. ‘I just hope that Martin Church wasn’t one of them.’
Chan was silent for a while. ‘Why is that then?’
‘He’s one of my men in the department. I don’t want him to know who I really am.’
Graham Goodall put his coat and hat on and said good bye to Chan. He paused by the doorway and said, ‘By the way I want you to get rid of your parents, I don’t care how you do it, but do it quick.’
Chan was taken aback. Despite his parents trying to mend Chan’s ways they were failing miserably. They wondered whether their usefulness and decent ways were becoming a burden on Chan’s unorthodox behaviour.
Chan would speak to them at supper time. Unbeknown to Chan, his foster parents had heard what Graham Goodall had said as his Foster dad was about to show the books to Chan for his approval. Instead he rushed back to his wife and said ‘Pack your bags we need to get away as soon as possible.’ He told Doris what he had been privy too as he had just prepared the takings for the week and was about to present them to Chan for his usual approval. Samuel left the room. ‘Won’t be long, just need to do….’ His voice trailed off as he shut the door. He came back carrying a bag.
Doris said, ‘What have you got there?’
‘Money!’ said Samuel.
‘How much is there?’
‘£250,000!’
‘Should we take it? I mean won’t he come after us?’
‘I don’t think so I’ve left him one hundred thousand pounds’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘I just know, anyway all the money he earned, he earned dishonestly.’
They packed their cases silently, criss-crossing the room gathering as many of their own bits and pieces as they possibly could and fled from the house they once owned. It seemed an honest exchange – money for the house. They would leave the district, change their names and appearances. Chan would never see them again or his money.
Over the months Doris and Samuel had tried to guide Chan in the right direction. Every week Samuel had given him a pep talk on what he had done to dishonour his name and every week his mother smiled at him and said. ‘Be a good boy and try to please your father.’
But their words and smiles fell on deaf ears and blind eyes, as Chan became more determined to be a better man but not by goodness that had never worked for him. He needed to exert his powers and become nasty, which he could do with ease and because he was influenced by Goodall, it was the only way to make his mark in the world.
Come supper time Chan sat the table. It was laid out in the usual manner, the usual white table-clothe and the cutlery placed neatly for three places. There didn’t seem to be any activity from the kitchen, however perhaps they hadn’t realized it was time to eat. Chan was thinking hard. How was he going to tell them that they must leave their own house and get away from the district. I suppose he could shoot them, that is what Goodall meant as he left this morning. Chan recalled the last sentence. ‘But do it quick.’ He couldn’t do that, if it was the only decent thing he could do in his whole life, he had to let them go. He would give them enough money to travel as far as possible from this region. He could afford to give them fifty thousand pounds, it wouldn’t pay for a house, but at least they would be safe from Goodall, himself and his gang. ‘That’s what I’ll do. I’ll go to the safe and get the money for them and give it to them while we eat our supper.’
On the way he looked into the kitchen, there wasn’t anyone one around, perhaps they were having a take-away, they often had one, perhaps it was a special anniversary. Chan tried to count on his fingers if it was a special day. He couldn’t. He shouted up the stairs, there was no answer. He shrugged his shoulders and made his way to his office. ‘Just as well, perhaps they’re getting dressed, it must be a wonderful surprise for me. ‘I’ve got a big surprise for them.’
Chapter 28 Lost and Found
Chan opened his safe and stepped back in amazement. The safe should have been packed with £350,.000. There was a large bulging envelope. Chan picked up the envelope and money fell out with a note.
“Dear Son,
I heard your conversation with Goodall. I am saving you the embarrassment of getting rid of us and as we value our lives and wish to live to a ripe old age, we have already left OUR house and £250,000’s that we had in our savings account, which you were to get when we passed on, we have taken with us to start a new life somewhere else. It will be pointless to try and find us as we intend to……..
Your loving parents,
Doris & Samuel.”
Chan picked up the telephone and rang Goodall. Chan didn’t care that he had broken the golden rule not to telephone Goodall at any time, day or night. This was urgent and Chan couldn’t wait. He wanted guidance. Chan was hungry, having had no supper. He also thought that some of his money had been stolen. He had assumed that all the money was his, although he knew it really belonged to his foster-parents.
Goodall was in a rage over the call he had received because he had been at a party given by the Russian Embassy and was sitting with other guests at the dinner table when hiss mobile rang. Goodall cursed. He should have turned it off, but had forgotten.
‘Damn!’ he said.
He apologized and left the table and went into another room. ‘What do you mean by ringing me up, I told you not to! I said I would telephone you at certain times.’
Chan was about to speak when the line went dead. Goodall rang another number and spoke a few words. He shut down his mobile phone and placed it into his dress suit pocket and resumed his place at the table.
‘Sorry about that!’
‘Nothing untoward I hope.’ the ambassador said.
‘Nothing that can’t be dealt with,’ said Goodall.
Chan was taken to the local hospital. He had been beaten up. He was then arrested by the police and whisked away by them before treatment could be administered and was incarcerated and interrogated most of the night. He couldn’t tell the local police much. Only that seven men had forced their way into his suite of offices and had beaten him up because it was understood he was a known terrorist and had planned to bomb the Russian Embassy later that night. As much as he vented his innocence, it was useless as no-one believed him.
As it turned out, it was a case of mistaken identity as the seven men were from a MOD section that had been given false information about their target. When a spokesperson from that department was questioned by the police, they didn’t know the source of where the information came from. Only Chan knew where. It was the second time that information given to their organization had been wrong and some sort of investigation was to be acted upon by their head of department Graham Goodall.
Once the police let Chan go, he had to be taken back to the hospital for his treatment and then brought back by ambulance to his house. Later, as an insult to his injuries he received a bill from the Ambulance Service for £50.
Chan had to be satisfied with the money that his foster parents had left behind and he thought they had been kind and considerate when they could have taken all of it. Chan wasn’t going to tell Goodall the truth about Doris and Samuel, that they had left under their own steam. Embroidering a lie in the first place was Chan’s favourite thing and it might make Goodall think twice in under estimating Chan’s powerful ways.
Goodall telephoned Chan the following day.
‘I hope my boys didn’t hurt you too much?’
‘Only ended up in hospital – didn’t!’
‘I’m sorry! But I did warn you not to telephone me.’
‘But I thought that was only during office hours?’
‘I don’t have office hours Chan. My line of work is continuous and I’m called upon to function during the night whether it would be pleasant or nasty. And last night was a very important do and it was a pleasure until I had your call. What did you want to tell me?’
‘I’ve got rid of my parents!’
‘How? I hope you didn’t kill them. I don’t want you ever to attract any attention to yourself or your gang members. Do you understand me, if we are to remain friends and colleagues you must obey my orders.’
Chan thought how dare the man assume he could tell him what to do.
‘Are you listening to me Chan? How did you get rid of your parents?’
Chan resigned himself to telling the truth. This man, Goodall wasn’t going to be brow-beaten by Chan’s silly foibles, he would have to tell him what really happened.
Chan said, ‘My father overheard our conversation about you wanting me to get rid of them and they gathered up their belongings and left.’
‘I thought so!’ said Goodall. ‘I thought I heard someone standing quite close to us. It was his heavy breathing that gave him away. With my trained ear I can detect the slightest noise that’s why I have survived the assassin’s bullet many times over.’
Chan didn’t mention the money he had lost and Goodall didn’t ask as finances had never been discussed. Goodall had not demanded any money which was in a way very strange. Being a man of strong principles in a malicious way, perhaps that was to come.
Goodall bade him farewell and said he would be in touch and he, Chan was not to contact him at all, what ever news he had to tell.
Chan was thinking hard and it was obvious to him that Goodall had to go. As he understood it, Goodall was a mole that the British government didn’t know they had and somehow he had to tell someone, but it needed to be done without any incriminations falling on Chan’s domain, he had to be squeaky clean. He needed an ally to help with the problem.
Perhaps he could make amends by approaching Martin Church with a proposition. Of course he didn’t know whether Martin knew the mole in his department was Graham Goodall and whether he would believe this news if he told him. It was touch and go.
* * *
Martin Church reported to his boss recounting the narrow escape that he and Roland James had just a few hours ago. Graham Goodall listened intently, or so it seemed and asked Martin to put everything in writing and leave the report on his desk.
Martin decided to write out his report there and then, although the hour was late and he should have gone home to tidy up. he also wrote about the failure of the of the knock-out tablets and why were there four cyanide tablets missing from the survival pack. Funny calling it that when the pack contained an item to kill you. It was gone midnight when Martin had finished writing about what had happened. He placed his report on Graham Goodall’s desk when he noticed something strange. Whether he was meant to see Chan’s name on a letter he didn’t know, especially when he had just escaped from Chan’s clutches.
Martin didn’t hesitate. Had someone been watching him, they would not have guessed he had noticed anything out of the ordinary. Martin was glad to get out of the building. He stopped briefly, taking the first breath of fresh air and walked slowly towards his car.
A voice called out to him.
‘Hey!’
Martin thought, ‘that sounds that horrible creep Chan,’ He turned and sure enough Chan was there hiding behind a hedge with just his face in full view.
‘I suppose you’re going to take me prisoner again?’
‘No!’ said Chan.
‘What then – I need to go home to bed, I’ve had a rough day and night. Of course you know that.’
‘Yes! I’m sorry about that.’
‘Well. What do you want now?’
What Chan said next was an astonishing surprise to Martin.
‘Do you know about Goodall?’
‘What about him?’
‘Can we get away from this building and go somewhere else where we won’t be disturbed.’
Martin looked at his watch. ‘Can we have a chat later – say 9am tomorrow morning, it’s late?’
‘It might be too late by then.’
‘How can that be!’
‘I might be dead?’
Martin seemed to choke on nothing, a gust of wind took his breath away and he didn’t know if he was hearing right. Martin paused.
‘You’d better come back with me, I have a “Safe House” we can use, you’ll be quite safe there.
Both Martin and Chan entered the car and waited.
* * *
Graham Goodall came out of the shadows in his office and watched Martin as he placed his report on his desk. Had he seen Chan’s name? It was hard to see where he was standing. The angle was not a good enough advantage to him. He was going to play it safe and he placed both Martin’s report and the piece of paper with Chan’s name in the office security safe.
Goodall walked to office window and watched Martin walk towards his car. He saw him stop and he seemed to be talking to someone. He couldn’t see who it was, because he was hidden by some foliage.
Goodall opened his window and tried to catch the conversation and the voice to see if he could identify who it was speaking. He decided to go down out of the office and listen. He was just too late. He saw the tail end lights as the car moved off. Graham Goodall decided to follow and rushed to his car. He followed in hot pursuit, forgetting he had not locked his office door and left his office window wide open. This had crossed his mind about seven miles out on the tail of the car in front. He decided to overtake the car to satisfy his curiosity and then go back. He indicated and shot past the other vehicle. It was the same kind of car, but it wasn’t Martin’s car. Goodall slammed on his brakes and slid sideways against the side of pavement. The other car just managed to swerve out missing Goodall’s car by inches. The driver jammed his hands on the hooter and swore at Goodall as he passed very slowly. The driver stopped a few yards up the road and Goodall fearing that he was going to get out and beat the living daylights out of him, drove off at a terrifying pace.
The driver of the other car spoke into a mike. ‘Martin, it worked, your man has gone. The way he’s driving and if he doesn’t get stopped by the police, he should be back at the office in twenty minutes. Good hunting- over and out!’
‘Roger! Thanks for everything, over and out!’
Martin wasn’t born yesterday, although he appeared to be dumb in front of Goodall. He could sense that someone was watching him in Goodall’s office and he knew that to hesitate would have been lethal and thrown suspicion onto Goodall who would somehow make sure that Martin met with an accident. When Chan approached him in the car park, it was too good an opportunity to waste to fool Goodall that it was he and someone else going off in the car and Martin knew that tiny tit-bit of bait of the car just driving off was going to hook Goodall in.
Martin and Chan entered Graham Goodall’s office. Martin asked Chan if he had a stop-watch function on his wrist watch. He had and set it for fifteen minutes. The key of the safe was hanging on its hook and Martin put on his plastic gloves from his survival pack and opened the safe and photographed the letter and other artifacts that were hidden in the depths, but couldn’t get the small box open. The key for it must be with Goodall.
Martin had just shut the safe, twirled the tumbler round and hung up the key when the noise of a car slithered to a stop outside the building. Martin and Chan ran down the iron fire escape as Goodall entered the front door of the building.
