Read Online Dark Forces by Stephen Leather - Free Book Online Page B

Where are you?’
    ‘A curry house in the East End with a mate from the Fraud Squad,’ said Sharpe, his tone suddenly serious. ‘What do you need?’
    ‘I’m at a boxing do in the West End with a few hundred faces, most of them from south of the river. One might recognise me and if I don’t do something my case is going to fall apart.’
    ‘Who’s the face?’
    ‘Blagger by the name of Jeff Owen. He was number two in a crew run by Ted Verity. I put them away more than ten years ago and it looks like Owen’s out.’
    ‘What do you want me to do?’ asked Sharpe.
    ‘I need him taken away for a few hours.’
    ‘I’ll happily come around and flash my warrant card, but if he tells me to fuck off what can I do?’
    ‘It has to be more official than that or he’ll wonder what’s going on. Here’s my thought. He was given fifteen years, which means he’s out on licence. I’m sure under the terms of his parole he’s not allowed to mix with criminals and they’re wall to wall here. There’s three on his table alone. I’m thinking get his probation officer involved and have him hauled into a local station for questioning.’
    ‘That might mean him getting sent back to prison.’
    ‘He’s a nasty piece of work, Razor. He deserved more than an eight stretch.’
    ‘This’ll have to be official – you know that? I can’t start commandeering police stations and probation officers.’
    ‘Can you run it by Sam Hargrove? You’re still working for him, right?’
    ‘Sure.’
    ‘He knows this Owen character and he’ll remember the case.’
    ‘I remember it,’ said Sharpe. ‘Drug-dealer running his operation from behind bars.’
    ‘That’s the one. Fill Hargrove in and get him on the case. It needs to be quick, Razor. We’re just sitting down to eat.’
    ‘I’m on it,’ said Sharpe.
    Shepherd ended the call and walked back to the hotel. The last of the smokers were finishing up and most of the tables were filled. There were now a dozen men sitting at the top table, a mix of former champion boxers, Catholic priests and two actors who’d had minor roles in Cockney gangster movies. Shepherd kept his head turned away from the table where Owen was sitting as he headed to his seat. He was between Evans and Cooper, Carter opposite. Including himself, there were a dozen men at the table and Shepherd knew all of the others by name and reputation. He shook hands with the four he hadn’t met and introduced himself. No one asked what he did or where he was from: it was taken for granted that he was one of them. If he was anything but, he wouldn’t have been there.
    There were six bottles of wine opened on the table, three red and three white, and Shepherd could see that they were all good vintages. But the wine stayed untouched. Evans waved over a middle-aged waiter with a neatly-trimmed beard and ordered a round of drinks. Everyone wanted beer or spirits. He automatically ordered Shepherd a gin and tonic. Shepherd took a quick look around. It was pretty much an all-male affair, though off to his left there was a women-only table, which looked as if wives had been parked there by their husbands. The women were in their thirties with over-styled hair, too much make-up and jewellery, and their painted nails glistened like talons.
    The doors from the kitchen burst open and Evans flinched, then grinned shame-facedly as waiters poured into the room, laden with trays. There were several hundred people to be fed and the serving staff worked with military precision as they placed the starter on the tables. It was pâté with toast and a limp salad. Shepherd didn’t feel like eating and pushed the food around the plate until everyone had finished. Evans was constantly summoning waiters and ordering more drinks. The wine stayed untouched, as it seemed to be on most of the tables. Even the wives had ignored it and ordered themselves Cristal champagne. Shepherd kept an eye on the far side of the room but the tables were