by Mark Timlin
‘So where is he now? I’d like to hear it from him personally.’
I told her what had happened at Brady’s house.
‘Didn’t you call an ambulance or anything?’ she asked.
‘He was dead,’ I said.
‘So you just left him?’
‘What was I supposed to do? Carry him round for good luck?’
‘You’re a cold-blooded bastard, Nick. So what were you going to do next?’
‘Go and find Lasky. See if I couldn’t put a spanner in the works.’
‘So you were going to shoot someone?’
I shrugged. ‘Depends,’ I said. ‘I just wanted to find someone who could clear me.’
‘And you were going on your own?’
I nodded. ‘Who was I supposed to go with? I’ve been stitched up all along the line. Endesleigh, Brady, Alfie, Lasky. And even you. I was daft to get involved with this in the first place, and I’m getting well pissed off with it. It’s about time I started stitching someone up myself. But I don’t need to now, do I? Not now that you’re here.’
‘Is that right?’
‘Course it is. All you have to do is get on your radio, put out a call for Lasky and his mob, call in some back-up, and Bob’s your uncle.’
She shook her head. ‘Not now you’ve told me what happened.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning I’m going to find Lasky myself.’
‘You’re crazy.’
‘Don’t you think I can do it?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You don’t think I’m a little too girly for the job?’
I didn’t answer. Instead I said, ‘Why?’
‘Because the officers who were killed were my friends. My oppos. I’m all that’s left of this squad, and I intend to finish the job.’
‘You could get killed.’
‘That’s a chance I’ll have to take.’
‘You’re mad. There’s a whole police force out there. Use them, for Christ’s sake.’
She shook her head.
‘But you’re the only one who knows the truth about me.’
She smiled. ‘I’m a valuable piece of merchandise, then. Maybe you’d better come too.’
I was speechless.
She smiled again. ‘It makes sense, Nick.’
‘And if I don’t?’
‘I’ll cuff you up and leave you here, and come back for you later.’
‘And what happens if you don’t make it?’
‘Someone will find you, eventually.’
I didn’t like the way she’d said that last word. ‘And if they don’t?’
‘You’ll have to gnaw your hands off at the wrists,’ she said, and smiled.
‘Charming,’ I said.
‘So?’ she asked. ‘Are you coming or not?’
I thought about it. She was right. ‘What the hell?’ I said.
‘I knew you would,’ she said, and picked the Colt off the table and tossed it to me.
44
She had a car outside, blocking the service road. It was a little red Astra. We drove straight to Greenwich. What with the rain and the remains of the evening traffic, it took about an hour. With the help of her A-Z I found the address where Lasky had his office. It was in a mews off the main road, with garages on the ground levels, and flats or offices on the first floors. Mostly offices – so by that time of night, the mews was quiet. Kylie stopped the car and killed the engine and lights.
I peered through the water-streaked windscreen at Lasky’s place. The building was in darkness. ‘Want me to take a look?’ I asked. I wasn’t that keen, as I was just beginning to dry out properly.
‘No, I’ll go,’ she said. ‘Can I trust you?’
‘To do what?’
‘To do nothing.’
‘Sure,’ I said.
‘You won’t go?’
‘I’ve nowhere to go.’
‘You could go to the police.’
‘Without you? No. They’ll stick me in a cell. By the time I manage to convince them that something is up, it’ll be over.’
‘You don’t have much faith.’
‘Give me one good reason why I should.’
‘So you’ll stay here?’
‘Like a faithful hound.’
‘I won’t be long.’
She took the keys out of the ignition – trusting soul – and opened the door. I grabbed her arm. ‘Don’t go getting killed,’ I said. ‘You’re the only one who can get me out of all this.’
‘I love you too,’ she said, and went.
‘I thought you just might, once,’ I said to the empty interior of the car. I watched as her dark-clad figure merged with the rainy night and she vanished.
She was back in ten minutes. She climbed into the car and shivered, took out the keys, started the engine, and let the heater run. ‘I’ve been round the back, she said. ‘There’s nothing doing. The place is deserted.’
‘Shit,’ I said. ‘What do we do now?’
‘Wait.’
‘But it might be happening right now.’
‘If it is, tough shit. Just wait. Be patient. You’ve done it before. You must have.’
But not happily, I thought. Yet I had no choice. ‘OK,’ I said, and took out my cigarettes.
‘No smoking in the car, please,’ she said.
‘Great,’ I said, and rammed the packet back into my pocket, pulled up my collar, and sat and sulked. That’d teach her.
They arrived about an hour later. I recognised the motor. The same red truck I’d taken a baseball bat to. I was very lucky they’d never come back for revenge. They might get their chance for it sooner than they imagined.
‘That’s them,’ I said, and looked over at Kylie.
She was busy clocking the truck as it moved slowly up the mews and parked. The lights went off and both front doors opened. I saw two figures walk across to the front door of the mews house, but I couldn’t identify them. Lights came on behind the front door and then on the first floor.
‘Let’s go,’ she said. ‘You knock on the front door. I’ll go round the back. There’s a staircase up to the first floor. I’ll get in through there. With luck they’ll separate.’
‘And if they don’t?’
‘Busk it.’
I did as I was told. I gave her five minutes, then rang the doorbell. I heard footsteps on the stairs. One set. ‘Who’s there?’ said a voice.
‘Gregor?’ I said, with a question mark.
‘Not here.’
‘I’ve got to see him.’
‘I told you he’s not here. Who are you?’
‘Sharman,’ I said. ‘Come on, open up. It’s pissing down out here.’
‘Never heard of you.’
‘It’s about last night,’ I said.
‘Do what?’
‘You know.’
There was a moment’s silence, then I heard the lock go and the door opened. It was the black geezer who’d come to JJ’s that day. I saw recognition on his face, and I shoved my gun in it.
‘Ssh,’ I said.
‘Who is it, Del?’ said a voice from upstairs.
I touched the forefinger of my free hand to my lips.
‘Del?’ The voice had moved to the top of the stairs, then I heard the sound of breaking glass and a gabble of confused voices, followed by a moment’s silence.
‘Come on up, Nick,’ said Kylie’s voice. ‘I’ve got him.’
I pushed Del towards the stairs. He snarled at me and I snarled back. ‘Get the fuck up there,’ I said. ‘Or I’ll break your arm.’
‘You cunt,’ he said.
I didn’t say anything in reply, just pushed him again, and he went. We walked up a dozen or so steps and into the office.
It was painted white, furnished with dark, expensive-looking furniture and thick maroon carpet. The door that opened on to the outside staircase was open, and a pane of glass was shattered. Kylie was holding her gun on the white guy – the same one who had come with Del to JJ’s to demand protection. When he saw me, his eyes widened with surprise. I pushed Del over to join him, and shut the door to keep out the wet draught.
Kylie showed her ID. ‘So, boys,’ she said. ‘You’re the ones who killed my guv’nor last night.’
‘Bollocks. Don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Del.
‘Meet Del,’ I said. ‘Charmer.’
‘Hello, Del,’ said Kylie.
He spat on the carpet between her feet.
‘Can’t get the staff,’ I said.
‘So who are you?’ said Kylie to the white guy.
‘Terry,’ I said.
Kylie looked suspicious for a second, then said, ‘Are they the ones?’
‘Correct,’ I replied. ‘We’ve danced before. Isn’t that right, Terry?’
He sniffed.
‘See,’ I said. ‘Articulate, isn’t he? So where’s Gregor tonight?’
‘Who’s he?’ said Terry.
‘Oh Jesus,’ I said. ‘He’s one of those.’ I walked over and stamped hard on the toes of his trainers.
He bent down and grabbed his foot with a cry of agony. ‘Christ,’ he said. ‘You’ve broken my foot.’
I kicked him in the face hard. Blood and teeth flew and he crashed across the carpet, where he lay moaning. ‘I’m not police,’ I said. ‘I don’t have to play by their rules. And guess what? I don’t give a fuck.’ I looked at Del, and gave him my best Jack Nicholson look. ‘I’m down for those murders,’ I said. ‘And more. But I didn’t do them. I know that. You know that. She doesn’t know that. But you are going to tell her. And if I have to rupture something, something soft and important in your body, before you tell the truth, I’ll do it. Get me?’
He got me. Thanks, Jack.
He looked at Kylie pleadingly. ‘You going to let him threaten me?’ he asked.
She didn’t answer.
I chuckled – and I thought the chuckle owed more to Rutger Hauer than to Nicholson, but it worked.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘But we never killed no one.’
‘So presumably you killed someone,’ I said.
He looked at me.
‘Double negative,’ I said, then shook my head. ‘Never mind.’
By then he was convinced I was a nutter. ‘I never,’ he said. ‘It was the others.’
‘Who?’ asked Kylie.
‘Billy and Barry,’ he said.
I shook my head again. ‘Billy and Barry. Sounds like a comedy duo.’
‘Don’t laugh,’ he said. ‘They’re fucking radio rental.’
‘They must be,’ said Kylie. ‘Is Lasky selling the stuff tonight?’
‘What stuff?’
‘Don’t fuck about, Del,’ I said. ‘We’ve been getting on so well up to now. You don’t want to end up like your mate, do you?’
He looked over to where Terry was, still lying face-down on the carpet, leaking blood and spit on to the pile. Lucky the carpet was dark red and didn’t show much.
‘So is Lasky selling the stuff tonight?’ asked Kylie again.
Del nodded.
‘Good boy,’ I said. ‘Where and when?’
‘Will you speak up for me?’ Del said to Kylie.
She nodded.
Liar, I thought.
‘At that poncey disco,’ said Del.
‘Where?’ said Kylie.
‘The Dealing Floor?’ I said.
Del nodded.
Brady had been right.
‘What time?’ asked Kylie.
‘Late. One, two in the morning.’
‘Who’s going to be there?’ Kylie again.
‘Gregor, Billy and Barry.’
‘Not you?’
He shook his head. ‘We’re meeting tomorrow.’
‘For your cut?’ I asked.
He nodded.
‘So what happened to the cash?’ I asked.
‘Gregor’s got it.’
‘Here?’ I said.
He shook his head.
‘You’d better not be lying.’
‘Honest,’ he said.
‘You don’t know the meaning of the word.’ But it really didn’t matter by then. I looked at Kylie. ‘What now?’
‘We go there.’
I looked at my watch. ‘It’s a while yet,’ I said. ‘What about these two?’
‘What do you think?’
‘Police?’
‘No, not yet.’
‘Kill ’em?’
She smiled a radiant smile. ‘Good idea.’
Del looked like he was going to soil his underwear. I don’t think Terry knew what was going on.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘Only joking.’
Del didn’t look much happier.
‘The garage,’ I said to him. ‘Is there a back entrance?’
He nodded.
‘Got the keys?’
He nodded again.
‘Gimme.’
‘They’re in my pocket.’
He was learning. ‘Get them out slowly,’ I said.
He reached into the pocket of his jeans, fetched out a set of keys, and tossed them to me. There were two Yale keys on the ring, and a big Chevrolet ignition key for the Blazer.
‘Get up, you,’ I said to Terry. ‘And get down there.’
He lay where he lay and didn’t move. I must have kicked him harder than I thought.
‘Help him,’ I said to Del. ‘And no messing.’ The look in Del’s eyes said that messing was the furthest thing from his mind.
He did as I told him, and they went – Del supporting Terry. I led the way, backwards down the staircase, gun trained on them. Kylie followed. We opened up the small back entrance to the garage, and I found a light switch. It was empty of cars, cold and bleak, with a bench running the length of one wall. Water pipes ran up two of the other walls. I tried them. Solid. ‘Find something to tie them with,’ I said to Kylie.
‘I’ve got my cuffs.’
‘How many pairs?’
‘Three.’
‘You came prepared. Where are they?’
‘In my bag in the car. I’ll get them.’ She was only gone a few minutes. I stayed with the boys.
We cuffed Del and Terry to the pipes. I found a roll of gaffer tape on the bench and tore off two strips. Del saw what I was doing. ‘You can’t gag him.’ he said. ‘He won’t be able to breathe.’
‘He’ll have to breathe through his nose,’ I said.
‘He’ll choke to death.’
‘Tough,’ I said. ‘That’s the breaks. It’s more than the break you gave those coppers last night.’
He was silent. ‘What happens if you don’t get back?’ he asked.
That was just what I’d asked Kylie at the warehouse. I gave him the exact reply she’d given me. ‘Gnaw off your hands at the wrists.’ Before he could say anymore I slapped the gaffer tape over his mouth. I did the same to Terry. He groaned with pain as I did it. Like I said, that’s the breaks.
I turned off the lights and locked the door behind me.
Before we left the mews, I unplugged the phones and crushed the plugs under the heel of my boot. I took the car and garage keys and dropped them down a drain in the street, and, just in case they did get away and had spares, I found a sharp, pointed letter opener on the desk in the office, and punctured the tyres on the Blazer. It was hard going, as they were well oversized and felt to be about three inches thick, but eventually the truck settled on its rims with a satisfying hiss of air.
‘You’re thoro
ugh,’ said Kylie as we got back into her car.
‘I had thorough teachers,’ I said. ‘Let’s go.’
45
‘Are you sure you don’t want to bring in a few colleagues on this one?’ I said when we were in the car and moving.
‘We’ve been through all that,’ said Kylie.
‘We could both end up very dead,’ I remarked.
She shrugged.
‘We don’t know who’s going to be there,’ I said.
‘Billy and Barry and Lasky,’ she said.
‘No, from the other side.’
‘We’ll worry about that when we get there.’
I was worried about it already.
‘We sorted out those two easily enough, just now,’ she said.
‘I’ve got a feeling Billy and Barry might be made of sterner stuff. You didn’t see what they did last night.’
‘I saw,’ she said, and her mouth set grimly.
‘Yeah, course you did,’ I said, and shut up.
We could see the Venice Tower from the south side of the river when we were still miles away from it. It shone like a rainbow beacon calling to us, as we made for Rotherhithe Tunnel. We got to the wharf about eleven o’clock, and parked where we could see the entrance to the club. It was still raining.
‘I hope they’re not already inside,’ said Kylie.
There were only a few cars parked up around that side of the building. ‘I know his motor,’ I said. ‘I’ll check.’
I got out of the Astra and took a walk, trying to look inconspicuous. Lasky’s XJS was nowhere to be seen. I went back to the car. ‘I don’t think so,’ I said.
‘So we wait,’ said Kylie.
‘Here we go again,’ I said.
‘Have patience.’
So I did – but twice I got out of the car to smoke a cigarette in the shelter of one of the old dock buildings. Finally, about half twelve, the Jaguar drove up, followed by a dark-coloured Mercedes 190.
‘Here they are,’ I said.
Lasky got out of the driver’s side of the Jag, and a woman stepped from the passenger side. Two big men got out of the Merc. From a distance they looked twins. Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Billy and Barry without a doubt. I had to remind myself they weren’t in the least bit funny. Lasky carried an oversized briefcase. We watched as they went into the entrance.
‘Who’s the woman?’ asked Kylie.
