The Lifers' Club by Francis Pryor

Author:Francis Pryor
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, crime
ISBN: 9781783520275
Publisher: Unbound
Published: 2014-04-23T00:10:25+00:00

* * *

That evening Alan was battling with his conscience, yet again. If it was just his and Paul’s reputation on the line, he’d have no hesitation in sharing his discoveries with Lane. But Harriet certainly didn’t deserve to be dragged down with them. With a heavy heart he decided that the only option was selective disclosure. That and keeping a very close eye on Paul and the Kabul clan.

He shut himself away in his room, and dialled Lane’s number. When Lane answered, he got straight to the point.

‘Hi Richard. Just a quickie. Did you know that one of our friend Mehmet’s companies, Anatolian Developments, was planning to re-develop Impingham House? It’s on your patch, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, I know the place well. Fine old trees. In fact I drive past it regularly and I’d noticed the farm buildings were starting to decay. Windows smashed. Tiles missing. You can just glimpse them through the trees in winter. But the development… no, I didn’t know about that.’

‘They haven’t yet applied for official Planning Approval.’

‘That’s a relief. If they had, I’d have words with our local team.’

‘No,’ Alan continued, ‘not yet. That’s the next stage. But I do know their architects have had informal talks with the Planning people.’

‘Bloody hell, why didn’t our blokes find out? They’re meant to be keeping an eye on the Kabuls.’

‘Well,’ Alan continued, ‘I do think it might be relevant to our investigations.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘For all the world it looks to me like a massive, all-singing-and-all-dancing version of “Mehmet’s”. The plans I’ve seen make it look like “Mehmet’s” with gold-plated bath taps.’

‘Good heavens…’

‘I know, it’s gross. But it does seem very well thought-out, with acres of car park, bars and meetings rooms everywhere. The architects have done a thorough job. Judging by the plans, it all seems to be about networking and conferences. That sort of thing.’

The phone went silent for a moment.

‘Well,’ Lane replied, ‘that might explain something… This morning I drove past Mehmet’s, as I have done, ever since you alerted me to the place, and I could have sworn there were Planning Permission notices in some of the windows. I was going to contact our people about it in the morning.’

‘Well, that makes sense then, doesn’t it?’

‘You mean, close down the old place…’

‘And convert it to stores, or offices. After all, it’s just across the road from the main Flax Hole Depot. Couldn’t be better.’

‘Better for what?’ Lane asked.

He sounded reflective. Alan needed to know Lane’s current thoughts; so he made his reply as oblique, as obscure, as possible.

‘Surely it’s all about communication and distribution, isn’t it?’

‘You’re saying that the new place will be a junkie’s paradise?’

‘No, far from it,’ Alan replied. ‘I very much doubt if you’d find so much as a whiff of illegal substances there. It’s too obvious. No, that’ll be where the deals are done, the networks established. I suspect it really will be a new “Mehmet’s”, but one that will be far more acceptable to the wider, non-Turkish community. To my

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