Guns Of Brixton

by Mark Timlin

  'Sean Pierce?'

  'That's right.'

  'I've got some information for you.'

  'What sort of information?'

  'Important information.'

  'About?'

  'Not on the phone.'

  'Do I know you? Sawyer, is it?'

  'I told the DC you don't.'

  'So, why are you talking to me?'

  'I heard you were a decent copper,' replied Mark. 'Someone I could trust.' 'Who are you?'

  'Like I said, someone with information.'

  'If you're not going to tell me-'

  'Don't blow it, Sean,' interrupted Mark. 'This could be the making of you.'

  'Oh yeah?' But Mark could tell he was interested.

  'Yeah. We need to meet.'

  'I'm a busy man.'

  'We're all busy, Sean. I could always take this elsewhere.'

  There was a pause. 'OK, where and when?'

  'No time like the present. How about in an hour. Do you know the Beehive pub in Streatham?'

  'Course I do.'

  'Eleven thirty.'

  'All right. How will I know you?'

  'I'll know you.' And Mark hung up.

  He was already at the pub when Sean entered. Mark was wearing his shades and gloves. It was an old trick for a copper to pick up a drinker's glass and check his prints for identity. But the last thing Mark wanted was for Sean to know who he was. Although he'd never been convicted, Mark's prints were on file, and he assumed lodged somewhere in the Police National Computer. Maybe, maybe not, but he wasn't about to risk it. And only God knew what he'd find if he checked on the Continent.

  Sean looked round the almost empty bar and Mark raised one hand. The young policeman came over and stood by Mark's table. 'Sawyer?' he said.

  'That's me.'

  'Right, I'm here. What's this all about?'

  'It's all about you making inspector,' replied Mark. 'And this will take a while. Sit down. Drink?'

  'I'll get my own,' said Sean who went to the bar and ordered an orange juice.

  When he'd returned and sitting in front of Mark, he said: 'I don't have long. What is it you've got to tell me?' 'There's going to be a robbery soon. A big one.'

  'Yeah, sure.'

  'Take my word.'

  'And how do you know?'

  Mark lit a cigarette and saw Sean's look of thinly veiled disgust. Pious fucker, he thought. 'Because I'm part of it.'

  'And you want to blow the whistle.'

  'S'right.'

  'Why?'

  'Personal reasons.'

  'Why me?'

  'Sorry.'

  'Why tell me? Are you sure I don't know you?' He studied Mark's face carefully.

  This was the moment Mark was dreading. All those years ago when Mark and Linda had been having their illicit relationship, he had mostly managed to avoid her family. No one but Linda had known who he was, and, more importantly, who his father had been. Even so, there had been times when Sean had spotted them together. It was inevitable. But after all this time he couldn't possibly remember. Could he?

  •Mark took off his glasses and looked Sean in the face. 'I don't think so,' he said. He looked him straight in the eye with his contacts in place and saw no sign of recognition.

  'OK,' said Sean. 'So, why me? I'm just a DS.'

  'I told you why,' said Mark. 'I heard you were something rare. An honest cop.'

  'Where did you hear that?'

  'Around.'

  'OK. So you've got information about a big robbery, or so you say.'

  'Why should I lie?' asked Mark.

  'There's a million reasons. Maybe I've put a friend of yours away and you're winding me up. Trying to make me look a fool. Or maybe this is a gag on behalf of the boys at the station.' 'Or maybe it's true,' interrupted Mark. 'Christ. I'm giving you this on a plate and you think it's a wind-up.'

  'It wouldn't be the first time.'

  'Shit,' said Mark. He could hardly believe this. Here he was with the information of the year and the dozy fucker wouldn't believe him. 'Have you ever heard of Daniel Butler?'

  'Danny Butler?'

  'That's right.'

  'He's retired. Gone to live in Essex.'

  'Retired fuck,' said Mark. 'He's the architect. He's got a bunch of heavy duty villains in to do the job.'

  'Where?'

  At last, thought Mark. 'Docklands,' he replied.

  'When?'

  'Bank holiday Monday.'

  'Next Monday?'

  Top of the class, thought Mark. 'Next Monday,' he echoed.

  'And you know the full story?'

  'Sure.'

  'Would you be prepared to meet a more senior officer?' Mark shook his head.

  'No,' he said. 'I'm taking a big enough risk meeting you alone. These fuckers are serious. They're armed with automatic weapons and they're prepared to use them.'

  'And what's your part in all this?'

  'I'm just a driver.'

  'And the reason you're here is personal? You want someone banged up?'

  'Something like that.' In a fucking coffin, thought Mark.

  'Who's the person you're out to get? Do we know him?'

  'Oh yes.'

  'Name?'

  Mark shook his head again. 'Don't worry, you'll know when the time comes.' 'And a reward?'

  'It'd come in handy, but I don't really care. But I want to get away. I don't intend to do any time.'

  'I can't guarantee that.'

  'You're going to have to. I'll give you the full details and it's your job to make sure I don't get my collar felt.'

  'I'll have to talk to my superiors.'

  'Go on then. Don't let me stop you.'

  'All right. But first tell me what you know.'

  So Mark did. Most, but not all. No mention of Jimmy Hunter, of course. That was Mark's little secret. But he did tell Sean that Daniel Butler had an inside man or woman on the plot. 'No one must know that you know,' he concluded. 'Otherwise they'll call the party off.'

  'That makes it very difficult,' said Sean.

  'I never said it was going to be easy,' said Mark. 'But if you pull this off, what's the betting on some promotion?'

  Sean considered. 'If you're lying…'

  'Why would I bother?'

  'It'll be a big operation.'

  'It's a big job. Armed guards, twenty-five million in stones.'

  'And all just on your say so…'

  Mark blew air out of his mouth in frustration. Didn't this dickhead know good intelligence when he heard it? 'Listen,' he said. 'Check out an old printing works in Canning Town.' He gave Sean the address. 'See what's going on there. But be careful. There's blokes around with guns who wouldn't be pleased to see you. I mean it. One less copper to them would be a bonus.'

  Sean looked at him long and hard. 'OK, I'll do that. But there's not much time, if what you say is true. And if you're having me on…'

  'Do you think I'm having you on? This is bloody serious. One word that I've spoken to you about it and I'm dead.'

  'You must hate this man very much.'

  Mark cocked his head.

  'The man you want banged up,' said Sean.

  'Believe it.'

  'What did he do?'

  Mark smiled. 'That's for me to know.'

  'Fair enough. How can I get in touch?'

  'You can't. I'll call you later.' He got up then and made as to leave. 'There's no one outside waiting to follow me is there?' he asked.

  It was Sean's turn to shake his head. 'No,' he said.

  'OK, I believe you.' But even so, when he left the pub, he took a very circuitous route back to his hotel, even though he was eventually convinced he wasn't being followed.

  He phoned the nick again late that afternoon and Sean was waiting for his call. 'All right,' he said. 'I've been up to Canning Town. There's. something happening there for sure. I've got a provisional go ahead. But I'll need to know more. Can we meet again?'

  'Sure. But just you. And don't be cl
ever. I can spot a tail a mile off.'

  'Fair enough.'

  They arranged to meet at a car park in Crystal Palace and Mark walked the short distance from his hotel. Sean was waiting in his Mondeo. Mark got in and said: 'Drive.'

  They talked as they went. Mark turned the rearview mirror so that he could see the road behind and, just as he thought, two cars joined them. - But he said nothing. It was just what he expected.

  'I'm going to take a look-see tomorrow at the depository,' said Sean. '

  'Well, be cool.'

  'I will. My guv'nors have spoken to the bosses there. They're having kittens. I'm going in as public health.'

  One of the cars following turned off, but then another appeared and the first car overtook them and vanished into the traffic. Mark knew that three or four cars was the minimum for a good tail. 'You disappoint me, Sean,' he said.

  'What?'

  'You know we've got company. That's no way to build up trust.' 'Don't know what you're talking about.'

  'Course you don't. But I hope you're better at finding some way for me to get out,' Mark said as he set the mirror straight.

  'Don't worry, I will. Tell me more about the numbers and weapons.'

  'Seven are going in. Like I told you, armed with automatic and semiautomatic weapons.'

  'Any names?'

  'First names only. And some are using fakes. I don't know who the fuck they are. I'm just a driver, don't forget. Low man in the pecking order. I do what I'm told and that's that.'

  'How'd you get the job?'

  Mark smiled without mirth. 'Someone dropped out,' he replied.

  'What's your share?'

  'An even split after the top men take their cut.'.

  'Is that the problem?'

  'No, I keep telling you. It's not money I'm interested in. There's someone there I want to see go down for a long time.'

  'Well, you must know his name.'

  'Course.'

  'So tell me, and I'll make sure.'

  'That's not part of the deal.'

  'Dark horse, aincha?'

  The dusk was gathering in the early summer evening and Sean saw Mark nod his head in the light from the street lamps that were popping on one after another on the main Camberwell road. 'OK,' said Sean. 'But how can I make sure we get him?'

  'Oh, you'll get him all right. I'll make sure of that.'

  'Are you going to be armed?'

  'What do you think?'

  'You'll have to lose your weapon.'

  'I don't care. I don't intend to use it,' Mark lied.

  'Right. I've written my mobile number down. Use that from now on.'

  'I don't want to meet you again,' said Mark.

  'Maybe just once mote, over the weekend.'

  'Maybe. But it's risky.'

  'A favour for a favour.'

  'OK, Sean, but make it brief.'

  'Do you have a mobile number?'

  'Yes. But I'm not giving it to you.' I'll be in touch.'

  'Where do you want to be dropped off?'

  'Anywhere here will do,' said Mark. He had nothing to do, and didn't - want to make it easy for whoever was following them to get on his tail. - When Sean stopped the car, Mark jumped out, ducked into a side road, went to the end, stopped and lit a cigarette. A young couple, man and woman entered the street too, and he waited until they were close and walked back towards them. He saw just a slight look of alarm from the bloke and he smiled and passed them, went back to the main road and joined the queue for a bus that was just stopping. He chucked the driver a pound coin and saw the couple on the corner, the woman talking into a mobile phone or radio. The bus pulled away and Mark immediately rang the bell for the next stop, jumped off and walked into a pub on the corner. He ordered a lager and watched the door. The only person to enter in the next fifteen minutes was a grey-haired man with a grey-haired dog. Mark finished his drink and went outside. It was twilight by then and he pulled up his collar and walked down the road until he came to a minicab office with a couple of old bangers parked outside. A bubble driver was only too pleased to run him up to Crystal Palace, and Mark got him to drop him off round the corner from the hotel. Even so, he still didn't go straight back but took another circuitous route until he was sure he was clean, and then went in and had a drink at the bar before going to bed.

  The next day he went to see Linda.

  He knew it was a crazy thing to do, but he couldn't help himself.

  It was a fine, warm morning and, once again, he parked up outside her j house and watched Sean leave for work. It was suicide if Sean saw and recognised him, but, like a junkie dying for the next fix, Mark just couldn't stay away.

  As school time approached, the nanny came out with Luke and took him off in the car. Mark smoked a cigarette, and just as he was about to walk over and knock on the front door, it opened and Linda came out with Daisy. The little girl was in some sort of child chair in one hand, and Linda carried a wicker basket containing gardening tools in the other. Linda was dressed in khakis and a T-shirt and she sat her daughter in the shade of the privet, pulled on a pair of canvas gloves, knelt and started digging in one of the flower beds. Mark ditched his cigarette, got out of his car and walked across the road. He stood by the front gate and looked at the two females enjoying the morning air. 'Watch out for worms,' he said. 'I believe they eat little girls.'

  Both looked up, one non-comprehending and the other with a frown. 'I beg your pardon,' said Linda. 'Were you talking to me?'

  'Yes, Linda, that's right,'" said Mark.

  She did a classic double take when he called her by name, and suddenly recognition filled her eyes. 'Mark? Is that you?'

  'You always say that?'

  'God, you look old.'

  'Thanks. But then, I feel old.'

  'What are you doing here?'

  'Chatting up a pair of good looking birds.'

  'Be serious. Are the police after you?'

  'Always. You know that.'

  'If Sean saw you…'

  He already has, thought Mark, but said: 'I watched him go off on his mission to keep the streets safe for decent members of society.'

  She looked up and down the road as if fleets of black marias were about to arrive. 'You'd better come in,' she said.

  'What about nanny?' asked Mark.

  'She's going up to London, after she's dropped Luke off. Shopping. She won't be back 'til lunchtime.'

  'I could use a coffee.'

  'Come on, then, though I don't know why I…'

  'Because,' said Mark and opened the gate and walked in. Linda discarded her gloves into the tool basket and grabbed Daisy. Mark followed her into the kitchen, where she transferred the infant into a high chair. Daisy chewed on a rusk and gave Mark pensive looks. 'So what's all this about?' asked Linda after she'd put the kettle on. 'I couldn't stay away.'

  'That's why I've heard nothing from you for months.'

  'You didn't want to know. I gave you first refusal and you refused.'

  'That didn't mean I couldn't've been convinced.'

  'I had to go.'

  'Always the same old Mark. Always on the run.'

  'I had no choice.'

  'So you left.'

  'You wanted me to go.'

  'No, I didn't.'

  'Well, you did a fair impression of someone who did.' 'You just turned up out of the blue. I hadn't seen you since that night at the flat where you left me all dressed up and nowhere to go.'

  He smiled just a little at her choice of words. 'I told you I was sorry.' 'Mark, you've been apologising to me since we met.' 'I know. Some relationships are like that, I suppose.' 'Relationship. What relationship? We never had one except for a little while at the start. Then when you told me who you were…' 'Who you were, more like.' 'And who was I?' 'You know.' 'No. Tell me.'

  'The daughter of the man who murdered my father.' 'That was never my fault and you know it.' He didn't reply, and the silence stretched to near breaking point. Eventually, he said: 'I wo
uldn't be here if you'd come with me that day. We'd be somewhere warm together. You, me, Luke and Daisy.' 'Happy families again, is it, Mark?' 'Something like that.' 'Because you never had one?' 'I did. John and his.' 'But not yours, Mark.' 'Is that wrong?'

  'No. But just to turn up like that and demand I leave everything. Everyone I know, everything I own.' 'Would it have been so hard?'

  She turned away before he could see the tears that sprang to her eyes. 'If only you'd waited,' she said. 'What?'

  'If only you'd waited. Like you did that day at school in the rain. Remember?'

  'I'll never forget that day. You sent your friend with a note.' 'I know. Most of the bloody school was looking out at you sitting there getting soaked.' 'It was wet.'

  'So, why didn't you wait the last time?'

  'I was being pursued by half the police in England. Your brother's a cop. You said you'd call him. I had to go.' 'I would've come. If only you'd persevered.' 'Don't say that, Linda. Don't make me regret something else.' 'I don't think you know the meaning of the word.' 'Of course I do. I've had more regrets than most.' 'Don't start singing My Way, for Christ's sake. I couldn't take it.' He smiled again. 'I promise I won't do that.' 'So, where did you go?'

  'Like I said, somewhere warm. Portugal. I found a little place where I could see the sea, and there was a bar and restaurant within a few minutes walk. It was good. Comfortable. You'd've loved it, and the kids…' 'They'd've loved it too, I know.'

  'And we could've stayed there the rest of our lives and forgotten all

  about this.' His gesture took in London, England, everything. 'We could've been happy.'

  'And now we can't?'

  'I don't know.'

  'Where are you living?'

  'Out of a suitcase. I've been staying in hotels. Moving around. You know.'

  'No, I don't. Have you seen Chas?'

  'Briefly.'

  'And how's Martine?'

  He had wondered how long it would be before she came into the conversation. 'She's fine, as far as I know,' he said. 'I haven't seen her. She still blames me for John's death.'

  'But I bet she'd have you in a minute.'

  He dismissed Martine with another derisory wave of his hand. 'She's nothing to me.'

  'Then she should be. Her family took you in.'

  'I know that.'

  'Then show some bloody respect. Well, you have. You went to bed with her.'

  'I did not.'

  'She says you did.'

  'She's a liar. She'd do anything to split us up.'