When I arrived I was met at the station by the pair of them, and although they were happy, and I think relieved to see me, they were both showing signs of strain and both looked as though they had had enough.
They were driving an old banger of a car that Waite had bought for them. It didn’t look that bad, but mechanically it was a wreck, with black smoke belching out of the exhaust pipe.
Anyway, we drove back to the one bedroom flat they had, in a house that can only be described as a dump. My heart sank when I saw how they were living, and although they were trying to keep a brave face on, they were embarrassed.
Over the next couple of days we talked and talked, and even then Roger was still trying to hold onto his vague belief that if nothing else Waite would at least give him something out of all this, even if it wasn’t all he had put into this business.
In the end I felt I had to tell Roger he was a bloody idiot, and this scumbag was going to give him nothing and dump him at the first opportunity, and the only reason he hadn’t done it already was, because Rogers knew about a few deals that were very dodgy, and Waite was scared in case he started causing trouble and phoning people up. As it went, Elaine had more or less said the same things as I was saying, and Roger more or less caved in and sat there looking drained and asked: ‘What do you think I should do scouse? Me and Elaine are just about skint.’
My answer to that was simple, ‘Blow him up Roger, and screw him to the wall! Tell the police, the customs, tell the immigration about Billy marrying Tim to get a passport, finish him completely. If the authorities find out about the arms deals, the rice and the oil, they will lock him up and throw away the key.’
Then Roger came out with something that blew my mind, he told me the Israeli’s were involved in supplying these weapons to the Arabs, and that John Waite was a go between. It just seemed to get worse and worse. But he still wasn’t convinced that was the thing to do until I suggested that he might get some of his money back if he took the story to the newspapers.
That was the right button I pressed that time because Elaine jumped on the bandwagon then, saying, ‘Do it Roger, listen to scouse. Don’t let the fat pig get away with it!’
So now the die was cast, a decision had been reached, and now all we had to do was get it right. We all agreed it was no good going off half cocked, we needed evidence, solid proof, and there was only one way to do that, and that was to get hold of all of Waite’s documentation.
We knew Waite was a creature of habit, and liked to be seen around town with Tim on his arm, and one of his favourite places was an Italian Restaurant in the Barbican area of the city, were he always went for Sunday dinner, and that was the time we decided to take advantage of this, by waiting until he turned up on the Sunday, at which time I stayed outside the restaurant, and watched while Roger went back to the house with his set of keys, and took as many of the documents as he could. And if for any reason, Waite and Tim were to leave, I would phone the house twice, letting the phone give just three rings before hanging up, and Roger would know by that signal that he had just twenty minutes to get out and on the road. And that is exactly what happened.
After the deed had been done, we met inSwansea, the one place Waite would never think of.
The next few weeks were hectic. And once again, rather than confuse the issue by going into too much detail, I will just tell you what we did, who we approached, and the responses that we had from each of those departments and people.
The first thing was to copy some of the documents, which we did before putting them in a safe house with a friend of mine, then we contacted a reporter called Norman Luck, whose name we had been given by a contact of mine, who was a journalist at that time. Luck worked as an investigative journalist for the Express Newspaper group, and he was very eager to meet up with Roger and me, and offered to pay our expenses if we were prepared to travel to the newspaper offices inLondon. And that’s what we did, and believe me,Normanthought his luck was in when he saw the sample of documents we produced, and told him what we had, and the information we were prepared to give him.
We also went to see the investigation unit in the tax office inSwansea, and told them of Waite’s dealings, and all about his Swiss bank accounts.
They were ‘cockahoop’ with what we told them, and asked if we would be prepared to hand the documentation over to them. We refused but said they could photo copy everything, and that’s what we let them do. But when they realised just what we were giving them, they said it was far too serious for them to handle, and asked if we would be willing to talk to one of the chief investigators, Michael Allcock, and we agreed. We also we gave the information to the Immigration department about the marriage between Billy Green and Tim, and how much was paid for that marriage of convenience, along with names dates and passport numbers.
Then I took Roger to a solicitor I knew in Swansea, Dave Hutchins of Goldstones Solicitors, Walters Road as Roger was getting worried about his part in all this, because of the contract involving him in this business. Hutchins assured him that because he was prepared to expose all this, he would not be implicated in any action that resulted from information given to the authorities. He also phoned the DCI in Swansea Central and arranged an appointment for us to speak to him, and explained what it was about.
That meeting took place, and the DCI contacted Scotland Yard. Both Roger and I agreed that when we were contacted by Scotland Yard we would make the arrangements, and they could come and pick up the briefcase and the documents, and that really was all there was to it.
The feeling of accomplishment, and I suppose a little feeling of pride at doing the right thing, was short lived, and if you find it hard to believe what happened next imagine how Roger and I felt watching it happen.
We received the phone call from Scotland Yard, and the arrangements were made for them to pick up the documents. Two very smart detectives came to see us, picked up the briefcase, asked if that was that everything? We told them it was, we had a short conversation, shook hands and they left, and that was that. Roger, Elaine and I, sat there excited, and babbling on about everything, and expecting to be reading about the arrests of these scumbags in the newspapers. Oh what fools we were!