The Aden Vanner Novels

by Jeff Gulvin

  He sat for a while in an armchair, chilled through lack of use, his coat buttoned, fingers pushing into the fading arms while the single lamp glowed dull. He used to watch his father from this chair, watch him read, half-rimmed silver glasses clutching the end of his nose; chin high, lips compressed in concentration. He could see him now through half-closed eyes and the thin fog of memory.

  James McCauley listened to his sister in the bath as the children got ready for bed. Mary-Anne Forbes was downstairs again. Eilish saw a lot of her lately. He did not mind. It kept Tommy’s memory alive.

  He sat on Caran’s bed while she put her clothes away and he thought about the holdall in his sister’s room. Empty now, but what had it contained before? Young Young, a murderer in their house. He looked at the girls and wondered what would become of them.

  He tucked them in and the bath emptied and Eilish came through and kissed them goodnight. James switched the light off and followed Eilish into her bedroom. She tightened the cord of her dressing gown and caught the look in his eye.

  ‘What is it, James?’ she asked him.

  He shook his head.

  Eilish frowned, rubbed at her hair and looked at him quizzically. ‘Come on, little brother. I know that look. What’s on your mind?’

  James lifted his hands. ‘Young Young.’

  ‘Gone, James. Over.’

  ‘He slept with you.’

  ‘I didn’t know he killed people.’

  ‘Stepper-Nap, Eilish.’

  ‘I know what I’m doing, James.’

  ‘Do you? What was in the bag you brought home?’

  ‘Clothes.’

  ‘The other bag.’

  ‘James!’

  James looked away from her. ‘You’re going to carry on seeing him — Stepper-Nap, I mean?’

  ‘I see who I like, James.’

  ‘Tonight. Are you going to see him tonight?’

  ‘I’m going for a drink with Mary-Anne.’

  ‘What does she do these days?’

  ‘She’s a cleaner.’

  ‘Nothing else?’

  ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘James.’ Eilish laid her dress on the bed. ‘Stop worrying. Have I ever let us down?’

  ‘The children, Eilish. I worry about the children.’

  ‘And you think I don’t.’ She fisted a hand on her hip. ‘Who pays for them, James? Who feeds and clothes them?’

  ‘You do.’

  ‘Exactly. So stop telling me you worry about them. They’re my responsibility.’

  She sat down on the bed. ‘Sometimes you know — you get too heavy. Christ, I thought our ma was bad …’ She looked up at him again. ‘I go my own way, James. I have my life.’

  ‘What about Tommy?’

  ‘Tommy’s dead.’

  ‘You loved him?’

  ‘Of course I loved him. You know I loved him. I’ve never loved anyone like Tommy.’

  ‘Stepper-Nap? Young Young?’

  ‘That isn’t love. I just use them.’

  ‘And they use you.’

  ‘Life, little brother. Life.’

  She looked beyond him then. ‘James, Tommy was special. Very very special. But he’s been gone a long time. People move on. They don’t forget but they move on.’

  ‘Like you and Mary-Anne.’

  ‘And you, James.’

  He looked at the floor again. ‘I might go away, Eilish. I’ve been thinking about it.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘I don’t know. I might go home. It’s time I did something.’

  She looked more softly at him. ‘Yes, I think it is. I love having you here, but you can have a life too you know.’

  ‘I know.’ He shrugged. ‘I just wanted to tell you. I’m thinking about it.’

  ‘I think you should. Do you good. Get yourself out in the world.’

  He grinned then. ‘What would you do for a babysitter?’

  She laughed. ‘I’d manage, lover.’

  Jimmy Crack set up the Observation Point over the wash house while Iris watched him and asked questions about international drugs dealers and what he would do when they caught them. The TSU had supplied the equipment but he had set it up himself to save time. When he was finished all that was visible from outside was a silver disc in the window.

  ‘We’ll leave it for a couple of weeks,’ Jimmy told Vanner when he got back to Campbell Row. Vanner stood by the window in his office, staring down into the street. ‘You okay, Guv?’

  Vanner looked round at him and nodded.

  ‘How’s your dad?’

  ‘Dying.’

  Jimmy left him then and went back downstairs to brief his DI in the Area Intelligence Unit. Vanner sat at his desk and looked at the unwritten reports for Morrison. Ellie was in his head, Ellie and his father and Anne. They had spoken again before he left. Ellie was in bed when he got home. He wondered what sort of a future he could offer her.

  After work he met Sid Ryan for a pint in the Irish pub on the High Road.

  ‘What’s new?’ he asked as Vanner sat down on a stool alongside him.

  ‘Your snout was right, Slips. Eilish McCauley’s a donkey. She was clocked in Belfast when she was supposed to be in the south visiting her mother. She never got near the border.’

  Ryan licked the paper on a cigarette, twisted the end and handed it to Vanner. ‘Coalman was always good.’ He rolled a second cigarette. ‘Did Webby give you a bell?’

  ‘Your man from SO13, yes.’

  ‘He know her?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But he might get to know her.’

  ‘I daresay they’ll give her the once-over. Come up with anything on your job yet?’

  Ryan blew out his cheeks. ‘Nothing they’re telling us, Guv. I’m looking for the lover. Interviewed Case again, you know the fella who reckons he saw someone get in her car.’

  ‘Lifting your leg?’

  Ryan shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Feels right when he tells it. I’ve asked him three times now. I reckon he’s on the level.’

  ‘Hell of a coincidence then.’

  ‘That’s what I keep telling Webby. But as he says—PIRA personal protection weapon. PIRA-type hit. Only she had bugger all to do with PIRA.’ He sat back and lit his cigarette. ‘Doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.’

  ‘How’s Frank Weir?’

  ‘Tearing his hair out. What’s left of it anyway.’

  Vanner sipped Caffreys. ‘Eilish is a player, Sid. How many black guys get to make moves across the water. Her contacts must be good.’

  ‘Jimmy Carter, Guv.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Vanner looked sideways at him. ‘I need to know when she’s on the move again.’

  ‘You taking her out?’

  ‘We’ll try and set her up. I want her to talk and then I want her to take me to the Daddy back here.’

  ‘Just going to ask her are you?’

  Vanner laughed. ‘Something like that.’

  ‘I’ll have another word with the snout.’

  ‘Will he come across?’

  Ryan shrugged. ‘Dunno. His contacts were with Carter. Carter’s dead. Vacuum waiting to be filled.’

  ‘He’s an Ulsterman, Sid. He’ll know people.’

  ‘True. But he’s not into spades.’

  ‘He deals though, yeah?’

  ‘Yeah, he still deals. I’ll have a word. But he’s not on the payroll any more.’

  ‘Then set him up again. I’ll square it with Morrison.’

  George Webb was with DCI Westbrook on the fifteenth floor of The Yard. They were due at a briefing, a west London cell had gone live. The floor was sealed and SO19 were on standby. ‘Spoke to 2 Area Drug Squad, Guv’nor,’ Webb said as they walked the length of the corridor to the squad room. ‘Bird they’re looking at is a patsy over the water.’

  Westbrook glanced at him. ‘Who’d you speak to at 2 Area?’

  ‘Vanner. DI.’

  Westbrook nodded.
‘Ex DCI—replaced me when I came here. What’s he got?’

  ‘Doesn’t know. Coke maybe. We’re having a word. Swann’s over there now. First time across the water, Guv. Told him not to stand in The Crown and order a Campari and Soda.’

  Westbrook chuckled and they paused outside the squad room. ‘This Ealing thing is bugging me. A woman. That’s a first. Two definite maybe’s and two alibis.’

  Webb nodded. ‘Shit happens.’

  ‘Sleeper?’

  ‘Possible.’

  ‘When they wake up we normally know about it.’

  ‘We do.’ Webb grinned. ‘But we can’t always be perfect.’

  Jimmy Crack watched the first set of tapes from the wash house OP. He sat in the Drug Squad office with Sammy and China and froze the image on the screen as a black man came out with a paper shopping bag in his hands. ‘Pretty Boy,’ Jimmy stated flatly. ‘Remember him from the party pictures? Trying to take over from the Daddy.’

  ‘And not getting very far,’ China muttered.

  ‘To date. Young Young’s history now though.’

  Sammy looked at him. ‘You think he’s looking to make a move?’

  ‘Maybe. Time’d be ripe wouldn’t it.’ He wound the tape on and stopped once again as a white man came round from the back and got into a red BMW parked along the street.

  ‘The washer,’ he said. ‘Ginger Bill. Young Young fingered him.’

  Vanner sat behind them with his arms folded. ‘How long will the Irish couple let us keep the plot going, Jim?’

  ‘As long as it takes, Guv. They’re not going anywhere and they love it. Iris can’t do enough for me.’

  Sammy glanced at Vanner and winked. Jimmy elbowed him in the ribs. Vanner got up and moved in front of them. ‘Eilish McCauley’s the key to all this,’ he said. ‘Stepper-Nap’s expansion policy’ He paused for a moment. ‘Playing patsy to Belfast’s a dangerous game. She must be very sure of herself.’

  ‘Either that or she’s stupid.’

  Vanner glanced at Sammy. ‘Somehow I don’t think she is.’ He looked at the pictures from the party pasted up on the wall. ‘I spoke to Slippery again last night. His snout is good. Hopefully, and I stress — hopefully, he’ll be able to give us the nod when she moves again. He’s still got connections across the water. When she moves we’ll send a team as far as the ferry. Antrim Road will pick her up and give her a tug with the gear on her. Then Jimmy Crack and me’ll go across and see if we can’t get her to lay down.’

  ‘That’s a hell of a long shot, Guv’nor,’ China said.

  ‘Got a better idea?’

  China looked at the floor.

  ‘If we take her out over there and she goes for it — Stepper won’t know much about it. He’ll be pissed off but there won’t be much he can do.’ He glanced at Jimmy. ‘The Irish won’t be dealing with the Brit-Boys direct. No contact. No names. Eilish’ll be their connection. He’ll still have to use her if only to co-ordinate. It might work. You up for it, Jim?’

  ‘Whenever you’re ready, Guv’nor.’

  Ryan took the call from the Coalman on his mobile in the incident room at Hendon.

  ‘The Coalman, Mr Ryan.’

  ‘How you doing?’

  ‘Not bad. Not bad at all.’

  ‘You got something for me?’

  ‘Your wee girl. She’s on the move again.’

  ‘That’s a bit sudden isn’t it?’

  ‘Can’t tell ye the why’s and wherefore’s, Mr Ryan, only what I hear.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Two weeks tomorrow.’

  Ryan switched off the phone, lifted the receiver on his desk and called Vanner.

  Eilish lay in bed with Stepper-Nap. James was out, early afternoon, the children were still at school. A kilo of uncut crack lay wrapped in plastic on the floor beside the bed. Stepper lay back with an easy smile on his face. ‘So they can’t make it themselves?’

  ‘Obviously not.’

  He half-closed his eyes. ‘This is going to be good. Very good. Better than I thought it would be. They ain’t gonna stiff me this time.’

  ‘Told you my contacts were good.’ Eilish looked at the sandwich box on the floor. ‘I didn’t want to go again so soon though, Step.’

  Stepper glanced at her, then took her arm gently, wrapping his fingers all the way around. The heavy gold chain fell forward on his neck as he bent towards her. ‘You’ll be fine.’

  ‘But it’s only been a couple of weeks.’

  ‘So what did you expect? The last batch was for starters—first contact. Now we begin to supply’

  ‘I’ve got two kids, Stepper.’

  ‘So. You’ve got a brother.’

  ‘That’s not the point.’

  Stepper took her chin between his fingers and tilted her head to his. She looked into the black of his eyes. ‘Your mother’s not well,’ he said. ‘A friend phoned. She needs you.’

  Eilish jerked her face away from his grasp. ‘Don’t tempt fate.’

  He looked coldly at her then. ‘I don’t believe in fate, girl. Just opportunity. This keeps us ahead of the game.’

  Eilish got out of bed and wrapped herself in her dressing gown. She moved to the window, eased the net aside and looked out.

  ‘Nobody’s watching you, babe.’

  She ignored him, looking out over the street. Stepper swung his legs over the bed and moved behind her. He wrapped heavy arms about her and drew her back against him.

  ‘The last time. After this I get a gopher.’

  Eilish turned and faced him. ‘Who?’

  ‘Who cares? There’s plenty of Irish who’ll do it. I’ll ask Ginger Bill to find someone.’

  She looked up into his face. ‘Ask him now. I don’t want to go.’

  He shook his head. ‘Not enough time. You have to go. There’s nobody else I can trust. I’ll get on it, today. But you have to go this time.’

  Eilish tugged at her lip with her teeth and wriggled herself free from his grasp. ‘I get paid a lot this time.’

  ‘Course you do, baby.’ He drew her towards him again. ‘Course you do.’

  Vanner phoned Jimmy Crack on his mobile. Jimmy was at the wash house OP, changing tapes. ‘I’ve checked with the ferry company, Jim. She’s on the night boat tomorrow.’

  ‘We got a plot set up?’

  ‘Surveillance to Liverpool. Level 1 UC on the boat. Antrim Road at the other side.’

  ‘Sorted then, Guv.’

  ‘Thus far. Be tricky in Belfast though.’

  ‘You mean if she doesn’t go for it.’

  ‘She’ll go for it. She’s got her kids to think about. The timing — Antrim Road’ll want to know who she meets.’

  ‘It’s our deal, Guv.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s their patch.’

  ‘So we just have to trust them?’

  ‘No other choice. Make sure you’ve got a bag packed.’

  The following morning Eilish prepared to travel. Her bag was packed and ready, lying on its side on the bed. James hovered in the doorway like a spectre from the past hanging over her. She had her back to him, but felt his presence like a weight on her shoulders. After a moment she turned. ‘She needs me.’

  He did not reply, arms at his sides, fingers curled. He looked at her, shallowed his gaze then turned and went down the stairs. Eilish glanced at the bag on the bed, shook her head and followed him.

  He sat in the living room, face to the floor. ‘The girls don’t understand any of it, Eilish.’

  ‘Yes they do. I’ve spoken to them. Their granny’s not very well. Of course they understand.’ He stared at her then, wrinkled his lip and looked away. ‘When will you be back?’

  ‘Just as soon as I can.’ She went up to him and kissed the top of his head. ‘I have to go. It’s a long drive and I’m tired before I begin. Look after the girls for me.’

  Vanner and Jimmy Crack watched from their car on the slip road by the park. Eilish pulled onto the main road in her blue Sierra and headed
north. She did not see them, hands fast about the wheel, concentrating on the road ahead. On the other side a motorcyclist pulled on leather gauntlets, checked his mirrors and followed her. In the doorway of her house her brother stood with his hands in his pockets. Briefly he reflected on the grey of the sky, squared his shoulders and went back inside. Vanner looked at Jimmy. ‘You know something,’ he said. ‘I get the impression m’laddo over there knows what’s going on and isn’t happy about it.’

  Jimmy nodded. ‘Plays mummy and daddy to those kids doesn’t he.’ He shifted himself in the driver’s seat. ‘Sister shagging two blacks who deal crack for a living. Can’t be very good for him.’ He started the car and looked at Vanner. ‘Let’s hope Antrim Road do their stuff.’

  Morrison was in the kitchen at Campbell Row, drinking coffee with the skipper from the Firearms Inquiry team. Vanner climbed the stairs, nodded to Morrison and went into his office. He took the card Ryan had given him and dialled the pager service. He gave them the number then hung up. Morrison stood in the doorway behind him.

  ‘How’s it going, Vanner?’

  ‘Fine, so far.’

  ‘Results?’

  ‘Maybe.’ Vanner glanced at him. Morrison stood with one hand jangling change in his pocket.

  ‘Good take-out with SO19 the other night.’

  ‘Not bad,’ Vanner said. ‘Young Young gave us the wash house and the cleaner.’

  ‘Ginger Bill.’ Morrison smiled. ‘I read your report, Vanner.’ He moved into the office. ‘This Eilish McCauley’s the key?’

  ‘We think so, Sir.’ Vanner sat down at his desk. ‘She was into Young Young and the Daddy. Daddy had the money. Young Young had the dick.’

  Morrison smiled and shook his head. ‘Nasty.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Young Young.’

  ‘They’re all nasty, Sir.’

  The phone rang on Vanner’s desk and he picked up the receiver. ‘Vanner.’

  ‘George Webb, Guv. SO13.’

  ‘Hello, George.’

  ‘You paged me.’

  ‘Yeah. Eilish McCauley. Just gone walkabout.’

  ‘Our turf?’

  ‘Will be tomorrow morning. You wanted to know when she moved. Got to tell you though—we’re planning to pull her in Belfast.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Webb hung up and Vanner put down the receiver.