“You need your eyes checked. Do you not know who works here and who does not?” The second voice had a hint of Russian in it. “This is a newspaper. Criminals, terrorists, rivals - they all want to see what we will print. The building must be secure.”
“Yes. Of course. Next time I’ll intercept them.”
The voices passed her by. The foreigner sounded like Nvotski, but it could have been another Russian.
“I don’t care about next time. Find them. Or there will be serious consequences.”
As the voices passed, Eva’s body was rigid and her breath so light it felt like it had stopped. She guessed Jess was hiding alongside the conveyor belt or behind some other piece of machinery. Eva stood, still hunched, then as she walked one step into the light of the print room, she froze to the spot as she found two pairs of eyes settled on her. In workman’s blue overalls was a large man near the front doors of the print room. He saw her. There was the head like a breezeblock and the faint dark lines of a tattoo on his neck peeking above the rim of his collar. He looked serious, with a mocking and violent sneer in his eyes. He acknowledged her with a nod, and then he began to move in big brisk steps around the line of machinery, moving directly towards her. Gillespie’s man… Unless he was some kind of mole after all. He was coming for her. Whatever he was, he was a threat, and Jess wasn’t in sight. She wished she had a weapon, but she had never carried weapons and had never wanted to. But right now she wished she hadn’t been so moral. She moved away down by the side wall, walking quickly, almost running. As she came upon the next door along, the last of the three on this side, it opened and there was Jess, her face both serious and bright, her breath sharp and quick.
“They’re looking for us.”
“I know.”
“And if they find us?”
“You know what. We’re not prepared for this. We can’t give up, Jess. Come on.”
Eva took Jess’s hand and pulled her into the light. Her eyes were everywhere. Then she saw the man in overalls too, coming alongside them separated by a wall of machinery holding him back.
“Excuse me. What are you doing in here?”
The loud voice came from the other side of the machines near the man in overalls. The words were followed by thuds, slaps and groans, with glimpses of arms swinging, and a man in dark clothing falling to the ground. The man in blue overalls stood tall. He pressed on.
“Oh God!” said Jess.
Eva made a ‘be quiet’ signal with a finger to her lips. She pointed to the gaps where she could see the man in blue making progress along the bank of machines, and then pointed towards a clutch of other shadows moving further back behind him. Eva pointed the other way – back the way they came. Eva slipped off her shoes, and Jess did likewise. Jess nodded. They turned and ran with feet padding quietly on the painted floor.
“Stop! You’re trespassing!”
Eva and Jess didn’t stop. The command was not for them.
Then more struggling, slaps and shouts came from behind them.
“We’ve got an intruder here. Alert security, now!” shouted a gruff voice, panicking.
Eva and Jess made it to the edge of the machinery, the first conveyor where they sneaked in – if the man in blue overalls had taken this route instead, he would have already got them. But he hadn’t. Eva and Jess skulked low while the double doors thudded open and two, three, then four people hurried in. One of them was an athletic man in a dark suit, another of Nvotski’s men. As soon as they were past, Eva stood up and grabbed the open door. Jess followed her, almost banging into her because Eva was taking slow and measured steps along the space where the executives had been less than ten minutes before. Now there was only one man, slack jawed and watching the action, ignoring the smartphone screen he had in his hand.
“It’s kicking off in there. I’d call the police if I were you,” said Eva.
The man nodded, but did nothing. He stared after them both, watching as they slid their shoes back on. They walked into the entrance lobby by the lifts, and then out past the reception desks.
“Excuse me!” called the receptionist. “Excuse me!” But Eva and Jess didn’t turn back. They walked through the exit into the heat of London, into the showy buzz of Shad Thames’ bankers, secretaries, suits and blouses and did their very best to blend in. They kept up with the pace of the crowd, which was usually frenetic, but the unusual late spring heat had put pay to any moving fast.
Eva turned back, glanced over her shoulder, then away. “Shit.” Something registered.
“Jess. Keep moving but take a look back down the street. Tell me what you see.”
Jess looked. “Just people. A lot of them.”
“Look again. Look properly. Does anyone stick out, even a bit?”
Jess turned and scoped the moving crowd. Way back, about twenty people deep, the heads of the walkers bobbed and weaved but one bobbed and weaved to a different beat. He was almost exactly in line with the heads in front of him, timed too well to be coincidence. The head was on big shoulders, and belonged to a white man with dark hair. Jess snapped her head away. She didn’t want the man to know he’d been seen.
“Yes. I see him.”
“I thought so. We’re not clear yet, Jess.”
“This is serious, Eva, they’re following us!”
“Don’t panic. We’re too public.”
“Eva, Russians kill people in public. They do it all the time.”
“That’s the secret services, Jess. The KGB or whatever. It doesn’t happen all the time. It happened two years ago with Tregenev, and before that it was another six years with Litvinenko. But that was not on a street. Those were over food and drinks. This is on a different scale.”
She kept her voice low, but loud enough for her partner to hear. Eva found a gap between the buildings on Queen Elizabeth Street, not far from the end. It was a service alley, or an old workmen’s alleyway built in an age when Shad Thames was all about industry and slums. “Quickly now.” They didn’t have long before the man passed the alley. Eva ran, and Jess followed quickly.
“In here.”
A space was cut into a building where some fire exit doors were. It provided the cover of a wall less than a foot wide, but with the shadow of the alley it was just possible it would be enough. “Press in tight to the door. Tight as you can, come on.”
And they did. They pressed side by side, looking past one another, listening, waiting for the noise to enter the alley. They could not look. They dared not. Eva counted to 100 slowly. The public shuffled, stomped and chatted their way ignorantly and idly passing the alleyway. A big man in a dark suit passed by once. A moment later, he returned, his frame darkly filling the alleyway, obscuring the light. Eva felt the light change. She thought about running. She thought about Dan. She looked at Jess, held her breath and waited. The darkness once more gave way to the light, and the man was gone. They had not seen him. But the face Eva saw in her head was that of Nvotski. They waited a short time longer, the panic passing, letting a small glimpse of peace back into their nervous systems. And while they recovered, another man looked down the alleyway. He looked, and moved his head and pressed his face to the wall so he could get a better view. The man saw something – just a little movement, and let off a grim smile, like something getting ready to feed on its prey. This second man was in no hurry. He breathed easily. He looked up at the sun above Shad Thames, and he walked on, lost in the crowd. As lost as he wanted to be, until the time was once more right to be found again.
Three
They drove the Alfa Romeo away from Shad Thames with two hours parking left on the meter. Plans had changed, but then plans always did. At first Eva had no purpose in driving other than to clear her head. It always helped. It was either drive to clear her head or drink to calm her nerves, and she had to stay alert now until this was finished. Drink was clearly not an option, however necessary it felt right now. They drove back out of the city towards the East End and just beyond, where the cit
y gave way to the grey landscape of the A13 and the interspersing tower blocks beyond.
“We had to leave. There was no option,” said Jess, her words trying to soothe Eva’s conscience. Eva had said nothing for twenty minutes, and Jess read guilt and panic in Eva’s mind. Eva nodded. She was still in deep thought. Jess sought to fill the silent gaps.
“It’s okay, you know. We haven’t given up. We’re just regrouping, that’s all. Getting ready to come back stronger.”
Eva nodded again, looked over and finally smiled. “Of course, we haven’t given up. I’m still in the game. I’m just working the angles.”
“Oh. Then think it out loud. I need to hear what you’re thinking because I don’t know what the hell to think right now.”
“I told you, you can go home right now. In fact, go home.”
“I can’t do it, Eva. My word is my bond.”
“Words are just words, Jess.”
“Not for me. For me, they are stone.”
Eva nodded. “It’s not a good choice, Jess.”
Eva was silent a little longer while they pulled off onto a slip road with the curved roof warehouses of a recently constructed retail park. Then she began to talk, launching into her processed thoughts, pre-packaged, now presented with care.
“What we did today will have affected Dan, we need to acknowledge that. They will know Bogdanis is missing by now, and will think it is something to do with us. But thankfully, Gillespie’s man threw a tiger amongst the pigeons. Until then, Marka must have been confident he knew everything that was going on. It’s safe to assume now that Parker and Rob Mitkin had been working with Marka for some time. It’s horrible to think it, but it makes sense. It’s horrible because Parker was Dan’s mentor and long-time friend. He was effectively the one who showed us both the ropes as rookie Private Investigators. Then there was Remy at the start of this mess. I still can’t tell whether he was just a side act, someone to get us hooked on the case, or what. But whatever was going on there, the search for the black four by four was another dead end. It didn’t matter a bit who had a black four by four. Parker knew who the villain was all along – his boss, Marka. He was just trying to throw us off the scent. But we can guess one of two things about the Remy meeting in Leathermarket.”
“Go on…” said Jess.
“Parker had either arranged it as a set up – a spoof show – or he already knew Remy was about to be genuinely taken down by Marka, which I think is far more likely. No one would have the resources or be bothered to stage a farce like that. But by showing the brutality of the gangster to us first hand meant we had to go with the case wherever it took us. It was a real kidnap, by a real kidnapper. One of Marka’s so-called outsourcing people. Parker knew it was going to happen and when, hence the pre-arranged time and venue for the meeting.”
“So Parker was an out and out shyster - an all-round piece of proverbial.”
“Correct. From that point, Parker tried to misdirect us, but his attempts were flimsy and insubstantial. Mostly he based his diversion attempts on me trusting in him, but as soon as more and more cracks began to appear in his story, he lost his credit with me. He was trying too hard, and gave the game away because he was desperate.”
“Why was he trying to put the blame on Gillespie?”
“We know Marka has an issue with Gillespie. It is clear from his double-dealing with the Mitkin brothers behind Gillespie’s back. Even Lee Mitkin didn’t know half of what Rob Mitkin was doing with the Somalis and Marka. He didn’t trust his brother at all and he had a good reason not to.”
“What about the Somalis? Where do they fit in?”
“Self-centred mercenaries; they fit in wherever they get paid enough. At one time, the Mitkins were useful to Marka, little satellites he could control and manipulate out in the sticks. The Mitkins got kudos because of the connection, Marka probably got information, regional control and a kick-back from the smaller market. Then they got friendly with the Somalis. Which came first? Did the Somalis befriend the Mitkins first or did they get in bed with Marka first? We may never know, but what is clear is the Somali gang cannot be trusted under any circumstances by anybody but their own. Marka has used them to double-cross the Mitkins and shut down his partnership with them permanently. But Marka isn’t stupid enough to have a true business partnership with them. This must be a marriage of convenience. It could be that if he has some kind of problem with Gillespie over territory he may have felt the Mitkins were too close to Gillespie to trust them. Marka is reputedly a very paranoid man. Even if he felt reasonably secure about Rob Mitkin’s loyalty to him in a business sense, he would have known Lee Mitkin was a fan of Gillespie. Lee Mitkin seemed to back Gillespie vocally on occasion, whereas Rob Mitkin stayed quiet and aloof, especially when we saw them together at the Casino.”
“So you say the Somalis aren’t involved in this thing?”
“Until I see Somali boots on the ground in Shad Thames, I have to rule them out. They are a part of the picture, but they are not the story. Something else is going on and has been going on throughout this whole affair. Dan Bradley crossed Marka. Marka spent the last two years ruining his life, first with prison, then with stopping him getting a job, then somehow getting his benefits continuously stopped through Jobcentre sanctions so he had nothing to live on. Nothing but sea air. Marka seems to have connections everywhere willing to do his work.”
Eva pulled the car to a halt in a retail park. They were somewhere back in the East End of London, but outside of town. They faced four big stores - Staples, Wilkinson, Argos and a Next clothes store. Eva stopped the engine and sat back.
“It’s not clear, but it’s getting clearer. Revenge on Dan had been one element of this, but something else has been going on too. The bigger picture.”
“What’s the bigger picture?”
“It’s an impression I get.”
“Well?”
“Gillespie is expanding his business through construction and rigging planning permission in Essex to exploit land he shouldn’t have been able to access. Property deals. Marka has had minions in the area for some time, and bought a portfolio of properties through the Mitkins. He has been expanding into Essex. But everybody working crime in Southend thought the Mitkins weren’t much better than Galvan, a useless show-boater, a wannabe celeb more than a gangster. Now, that may have been too hard on the Mitkins, because they were ruthless and managed to establish a partnership with Victor Marka after all. But, the question mark would have stayed with them. Marka used them to get a toehold in South Essex, and when he had it down, he got rid of them. But by then, he had his toehold. Meanwhile Gillespie is still expanding. Marka is expanding South and East to the coast, and Gillespie is heading North and West with property buys. It’s a classic turf war, and it’s about the dominance of the Southend and the South East of Essex, maybe the whole Thames corridor. Southend has 173,000 people in it. It has money from London in its pockets too. It’s easy pickings for crime. It even has a seafront, perfect for smugglers, just as it always has been. It’s an hour from London by train or car, and it has almost fifty thousand people looking to get wasted for the day while the others work and foot the bill. That’s Southend. It’s why the Somalis like it. It’s why gangsters and drug dealers have done well there for decades. It’s ripe for them.”
“Seriously. We are caught up in a turf war? Like in the films?”
“I think so.”
“But this was about Dan.”
“And it is. For us it is, absolutely. But for them, we are a tiny part of the picture. One pixel on a giant screen.”
“Then our problems just got a thousand times worse.”
“No. Our problem has always been the same. But now we know more. We see the world a bit more clearly, which can only help us. But then we have other things to be grateful for.”
“The man who took care of Bogdanis.”
“Yep. Now who do you think he is?”
“He’s one of the Traveller guys. I
’m pretty sure he’s the beefy giant from Upminster.”
“I’ve seen him before that too. I heard Gillespie call him Terry, as I recall from Fenbrook Manor.”
“So we have our own fairy godfather.”
“No, we don’t. We’re pawns here. We are being piggy-backed on. First by Marka, and now by Gillespie. Any time soon they will ditch us, and go for our throats, just like they did with Parker. We need to stay sharp, and understand that could happen any time - not get at all complacent because of our apparent protection. We are just the bait. But I want to ruin that plan too. Don’t get me wrong. I want to get Dan out of there. But I want to get out of this trap of getting caught between the two gangs too.”
“How?”
“I think the Traveller - Terry or whatever his name is – could have helped buy some time for Dan. Their priorities will have changed. Right when they were just going to deal with Marka’s perverse idea of a good time – just when they were all set to kill him, this Terry turns up in a boiler suit and smashes up the party. So now they know we have help of some kind. They will probably recognise this Terry too. And they will have to invest time and manpower with Marka in planning revenge. While that is all happening, Dan should be put on the backburner. It could have worked against him too, but if it did, whatever we do won’t matter a jot anyway, so I’m not taking that option. Which is why we are here now.”
Jess looked out of the window with a severely questioning look on her face. She didn’t hide the fact she was totally unimpressed by their surroundings.
“Eva. What are we doing outside Argos?”
“It’s Wilkinson actually, Jess. Argos is over there.”
“Oh, my mistake. What the hell are we doing outside Wilkinson?”
Eva smiled. “Why do you think, Jess?”
“Because you’ve cracked?” Jess said.
Eva’s face didn’t change, didn’t register the joke which wasn’t a joke. “We can’t get guns, Jess. But we can get all the tools and hand held weapons a self-respecting lady would ever need, and all at the very best prices.” Eva smiled and took out a clutch of folded money from her handbag. “Come on. I know you like shopping. We’ll load up here, get some tools and refreshments, then we go back and give everyone the surprise of their lives. What do you reckon?”
Crossing the Line Page 4
