Legacy of Lies by Jane A. Adams

Author:Jane A. Adams [Jane A. Adams]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House Publishers
Published: 2015-03-30T04:00:00+00:00

Twenty-One

Alec had spent a frustrating and tiring afternoon at Colindale, searching the archives for mentions of Kinnear. He had come away with a more complete picture of the man. Kinnear’s career had escalated through the early eighties and he had graduated from committing general mayhem at the behest of others to setting up on his own account.

He’d committed three armed robberies in quick succession, all banks, always with a three-man team. It had been impatience that proved his downfall. Three robberies in as many weeks, and in the same geographical area, had put the banks on high alert. One of Kinnear’s associates had been killed and another wounded during the arrest. Unfortunately, there had been another death. A member of the security team, a man called Fred Ritchie. The news reports called him a ‘have a go hero’, but it was far from clear exactly what he had done. Neither could Alec find a definitive account of who had shot him. Some reports blamed Kinnear, others his dead associate, and yet another suggested he had been caught in the crossfire between the police and the bank robbers.

But it was a name mentioned only once that caught Alec’s eye and which chilled him to the core. A witness to the shooting: a man called Rupert Friedman.

Alec had searched for records of the court case, but found little of use. The trial was only reported in any depth because of the death of Fred Ritchie and by then, almost two years on in the spring of 1982, interest had waned. War in the Falklands knocked just about everything else out of the news and the trial of a couple of armed robbers counted for very little.

Alec returned to his car and made a few calls. The reports had also mentioned the name of the officer in charge of the investigation. It took a little while, and a few favours, but within the hour he had discovered that the officer in charge of the investigation, DS Billy Pierce, had long since retired.

‘I can’t give out his number,’ Alec’s informant, a friend of one of Alec’s acquaintances in the Met, told him, ‘but I can call Bill, see if he’s willing to talk to you.’

Alec agreed and sat back to wait, fighting weariness and wishing he could just drive to a nice hotel and go to sleep.

It was Billy Pierce who called him back. He sounded curious and, Alec thought, slightly wary, but by six fifteen he was knocking on the ex-policeman’s door.

Billy Pierce was greying and almost bald, but he moved with the agility and deliberateness of a much younger man. Alec was tall, but Pierce had a couple of inches on him. His handshake was firm and the grey eyes direct and curious as he invited Alec to come inside.

‘The wife’s away visiting the grandkids,’ he said. ‘Come on through. I’ll make us some tea.’ He led Alec into the kitchen at the rear of the house and indicated he should sit down at the table.

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