Special Unit- The Mean Streets of London: Chapter 1

[Silent Hunter]

Cramer watched through the cameras. It was what he did. Watch, and afterwards collect the evidence.

Schmidt was handcuffed and led away. The officer looked around the front room. It was a blackened mess, with the explosion centred around what had been a safe.

[MrEdwardNigma]

Cramer investigated the scene more closely after retrieving his cameras. He also made sure to ask Schmidt about who bought the gun before they took him away.

[Silent Hunter]

Cramer investigated the scene more closely after retrieving his cameras. He also made sure to ask Schmidt about who bought the gun before they took him away.

The front room was pretty much a total mess. There had been stuff in the safe, but it was mostly burnt. Some fragments were intact and could be analysed.

Schmidt was being led out. He looked dazed and confused.

[Voshkod]

"Crime Scene photography. It didn't work out so well. I'm better off here. The Clash, they aren't so bad you know. Just a little macabre."

"Macabre? Our job's pretty macabre, Gainsbourg. How many people you killed so far? Crime scene photography . . . heh. Wonder if you ever got shots of my handiwork."

[MrEdwardNigma]

Cramer stopped Schmidt briefly from being dragged away and showed him a piece of paper.

Who did you sell the Stechkin to?

[Silent Hunter]

Cramer stopped Schmidt briefly from being dragged away and showed him a piece of paper.

Schmidt looked at the paper and smiled.

"I want protection", he replied. He was then dragged into the waiting van.

[Silent Hunter]

"Macabre? Our job's pretty macabre, Gainsbourg. How many people you killed so far? Crime scene photography . . . heh. Wonder if you ever got shots of my handiwork."

(OOC: Do you two want to arrive at the scene now?)

[Voshkod]

[OOC: Sure.]

[Silent Hunter]

2104, Brick Lane, London E1

Brick Lane was the heart of London's East End. A pedestrian street most of the time, it was a fairly short walk from Aldgate East tube station.

The city was one of the centres of the Asian population (specifically Sylheti Bangladeshi here) in London and the street signs were in two languages. Over the centuries, many immigrants had settled in this area of London, called Spitalfields.

Brick Lane was famous for its curry houses, which could be smelt from a fair distance away. The smell was there, but the curry places had largely closed early.

There had been a murder- and that was bad for business.

Gainsbourg and Tattershall parked their car on Osbourn Street, which Brick Lane ran into, noticing the large crowd of onlookers and reporters.

Through the crowd, they could see a white gazebo that covered the body and the police van that held the killer.

DC Hannah Fox was a short woman with brown hair. She showed signs of a tan from a recent holiday in Crete and a look that said "I didn't need this".

She walked over to them and started talking.

"Evening", she said. She'd often add an "all", but she was not in the mood to reference Dixon of Dock Green, a classic British police show.

"A mess and a half, this one", she responded, "You know it is when James Roland is on his way".

James Roland. A name Special Unit had come to dread. Since the election of the new Mayor two months ago, Roland had become a feature of the GLPS like a recurring rash. He was- his job title was "Senior Adviser to the Mayor of London", but this was a slight misnomer- the Mayor's "attack dog" and unofficial nose-poker in police ops.

(OOC: In this world, the Mayor of London is a Tory, but he is not the RL Mayor Boris Johnson)

[Voshkod]

"Hullo, Fox, looks like Crete did you some good," Tattershall said, unfolding himself from the car. "So, the Mayor's poodle is on his way? Sounds like something for Gainsbourg to handle. What's the situation here? One body, one killer, right?"

[Hairb]

"I get to look after Roland again, hmm? What do we know about this Polish boy?"

[Silent Hunter]

Fox reached into her pocket and pulled out an evidence bag with a bloodstained Polish ID card "Florian Kalawski", she read out. "Aged 17, from a small village near the Slovak border. No record here or in his own country".

[Voshkod]

"Funny, isn't it, how the Mayor's poodle comes out of the doghouse to sniff at a white kid's corpse but sleeps when a black guy gets killed?" Tattershall looked at the ID. "Strange old world. Well, let's see the corpse."

[Silent Hunter]

Fox led the two of them through the curtain towards the white gazebo, which was labelled police.

She opened the flap and showed them the corpse.

The body of a blond teenager lay sprawled face up on the pavement. His torso was covered in blood from the stab wound in his right lung. Death had been quick, but highly unpleasant. A shoulder bag was by his left side, emblazoned with the Polish eagle.

He had been casually dressed, in a denim jacket and jeans, with green T-shirt. The blood-stained T-shirt had the letters PFB on.

"Polish Fighting Brigade", Fox replied, "Before you jump to any conclusions, its a gaming clan. He was in town for a tournament. That's what his friend told me".

[MrEdwardNigma]

Cramer stopped the van from leaving.

Talk now => protection. Who bought the Stechkin?

[Silent Hunter]

Cramer stopped the van from leaving.

"I want it in writing", Schmidt replied, "Or you get nothing".

[Hairb]

"Are his friends still around? Maybe this... clan is more than it seems to be."

[Silent Hunter]

"Are his friends still around? Maybe this... clan is more than it seems to be."

"There was one guy with him. English kid. Student at Queen Mary. He's with another officer".

[Voshkod]

"Right, then. Give me a few minutes alone with the perp, will you? I'd like to have a quiet chat with him." Tattershall heads over to the van, cracking his knuckles as he goes.

[Silent Hunter]

"Right, then. Give me a few minutes alone with the perp, will you? I'd like to have a quiet chat with him." Tattershall heads over to the van, cracking his knuckles as he goes.

"Define quiet chat", said another voice in a Shropshire accent, "Does the cup of tea go in his mouth or down his trousers?"

DCI Harry Nelson, head of November, had shown up in the conversation. With a hairstyle and mullet straight out of the 1970s, he had an extravagant personality and a liking for kicking in doors. He was also openly bisexual.

"Evening Tattershall, Gainsbourg".

(OOC: Nelson is based, somewhat, on DCI Gene Hunt from Life on Mars and Ashes to Ashes, which you may have heard of. He's just less bigoted)

[Voshkod]

"You wound me, sir," Tattershall says with a mocking bow. "It goes where it does the most good, of course. Not necessarily best for him, of course."

[Silent Hunter]

"You wound me, sir," Tattershall says with a mocking bow. "It goes where it does the most good, of course. Not necessarily best for him, of course."

"Ah", Nelson replied, "Thing is, I'm going to have to have another person present. The guy's confessed, but I don't want any complaints later. Plus the media are watching".

He nodded towards the cameras.

"I've got a press conference at 2130. That'll get me on the 10 o'clock news".

[Voshkod]

"Wouldn't want you to miss that now, would we, sir?," Tattershall says with a sneer. "I don't care about his confession, I want his motive. We may have a little race war blowing up around us, sir, and that just won't look good on the news." Ian turns his back on Nelson and Fox and starts toward the van holding the suspect.

[Silent Hunter]

"Wouldn't want you to miss that now, would we, sir?," Tattershall says with a sneer. "I don't care about his confession, I want his motive. We may have a little race war blowing up around us, sir, and that just won't look good on the news." Ian turns his back on Nelson and Fox and starts toward the van holding the suspect.

Nelson followed at a discreet distance behind him.

When Ian got to the van, he found the suspect sitting inside the cage in the police van. Two PCs were standing by it.

"Name's Marcus Hanson", one told him, "From Plaistow".

[Voshkod]

"Anyone write down his confession?," Tattershall said, slumping into a seat as the day washed over him. A headache was just starting up behind his eyes.

[Silent Hunter]

"Anyone write down his confession?," Tattershall said, slumping into a seat as the day washed over him. A headache was just starting up behind his eyes.

"Yeah", one of the officers replied, "He was bragging and all about offing the Ukrainian's son. Not so cocky now".

[Voshkod]

The headache redoubled in intensity and Ian felt an almost overwhelming urge for a drink. "What a damn fool," he muttered. He quickly sent a text to Flashman and Gainsbourg.

"CHECK IF DEAD KID IS RELATED TO THE UKRANIAN ASAP."

Now he turned to Hanson. "Evening, my son. So, killed a kid, right? Any reason why?"

[Silent Hunter]

Now he turned to Hanson. "Evening, my son. So, killed a kid, right? Any reason why?"

The suspect was only 19. He had a look in his eyes that showed that he knew that his life was over before it began. He was going to end up being convicted of murder and end up doing at least 10 years of a life sentence.

He looked up at Hanson.

"I thought he was Shevchenko's son. The Ukrainian gangster had Jomo killed, so the Plaistow Posse decided to pay him back by taking the thing most precious to him. I didn't know it was someone else".

[Voshkod]

Tattershall started to laugh. "God, son, you're a lucky bastard. If you had killed Shevchenko's kid, your life wouldn't be worth a pound in jail. Instead, you managed to kill off some other poor kid and you'll only end up doing life." He wiped his eyes. "Unless, my son, you're going to help us out. Tell us who told you to do it. I don't give a good goddamn about you, to be blunt. You're nothing. But as nothing, you can fly under the radar. Help us, and we help you. Five seconds, son, to make up your mind, because I have a dozen more important things than you waiting right now."

[Silent Hunter]

Before Marcus could respond, DCI Nelson walked over and interrupted.

"DC Tattershall, a word".

Once they had gone off to one side, Nelson started. He was looking rather haggard, like he'd received some bad news. He had.

"First I'd like to apologise for my early insinuation that you were going to beat up a suspect. I know that's not you. Sorry.

Secondly, what are you proposing to offer him? You know he'll never get anonymity".