‘Wondered if you could help me, mate. Trying to track down Simon Carroll. Understand he used to live here.’
‘Can’t help you.’ The homeowner was already closing the door. Tallis put his foot inside, jamming it. The man’s expression turned to one of pale fear.
‘Take it easy,’ Tallis said calmly.
‘B-been gone two years,’ the bloke stammered. ‘West Country.’
‘I know that,’ Tallis said evenly. ‘Any idea where?’
‘Didn’t leave a forwarding address.’ His eyes were clicking from Tallis to the road and back again.
‘Is there some problem?’ Tallis said, easing his foot back from the doorframe. ’Course there was. Why else was acne chops behaving like he had the Grim Reaper up his rear?
‘He’d received death threats,’ the man said, slamming it shut.
So that’s how the police got their hooks into Kennedy, Tallis thought. He didn’t like to think about what had become of Simon Carroll.
16
* * *
ASIM agreed to meet. Tallis got the impression that the next stage of the plan was about to be implemented. Why else would he be invited to London for a debrief? Any grand hopes of going to Thames House, MI5’s headquarters, however, were quickly dashed. Asim suggested a row of shops round the corner from Richmond tube station, the venue a back room above a shop selling slug pellets and gardening paraphernalia.
To Tallis’s surprise, there were two others in the room, a bloke roughly the same age as himself, tall and lean with dark blue eyes that appeared almost brown, and a petite-framed woman with short bleached-blonde hair and full lips painted the colour of damsons. Neither looked as if they wanted to be there. In fact, the atmosphere in the room was several degrees north-west of genial. What a contrast to the welcome he’d received from Charlie Lavender. Tallis groaned inside, an image of her smile flashing through his mind.
Asim introduced the team, as he referred to them, as Sean and Roz. Tallis was introduced as David. He suspected nobody was operating under real names. Made him ponder on what Asim was really called.
It was straight down to business. Tallis gave an account of his surveillance, most specifically a recce report on Kennedy, details of the vehicles he owned, the area in which he lived, where he worked, entry and escape routes to both known establishments. He also mentioned Kennedy’s personal history, associates and contacts, including Napier. Asim said nothing, simply listened, Sphinx-like.
‘Something else you should know,’ Tallis said. ‘I had a visit from West Midlands organised crime section. They know of my interest in Kennedy.’
Sean raised his eyes heavenwards. Roz clicked her tongue. ‘You’ve shown out,’ she said, voice ladled with contempt.
‘No, I haven’t. They showed out. I stayed undercover.’ Tallis turned his gaze on Asim. ‘That’s right, isn’t it?’
Asim didn’t answer. ‘The plan goes ahead.’
‘But I’m compromised.’
‘Not necessarily.’
‘Asim, this isn’t going to work,’ Sean broke in. ‘He’s way out of his depth,’ he added, inclining his head in Tallis’s direction. Tallis felt himself flush, not with indignation but with embarrassment. Now that the tables were turned, he suddenly realised the position he’d put Charlie Lavender in. Wasn’t very nice.
Asim flicked a smile. ‘Think I’ll be the judge of that.’
‘Sean’s right,’ Roz said, eyes darting, red lips pulled back to reveal the two front teeth in her upper jaw overlapped.
‘What’s your plan?’ Asim said, ignoring both operatives, addressing Tallis the way an indulgent uncle spoke to a favourite nephew even though Tallis believed he and Asim were roughly the same age.
Tallis cleared his throat, addressed Asim only, told him about the weak spot, how he’d mapped out the school run, how they could strike.
Roz was off again. ‘For Chrissakes, this isn’t downtown Chicago.’
‘Think you’ll find your intel’s out of date,’ Tallis said with a provocative smile. ‘Come to think of it, when was the last time you two set foot in the Midlands?’
‘What, leafy bloody Solihull? Fuck you.’ Sean’s blue eyes smouldered to brown.
Tosser, Tallis thought, saying nothing.
‘Fine,’ Asim said, his voice cold and commanding. ‘Roz, Sean, you can leave.’
Sean’s mouth went slack. ‘What?’
Roz half smiled, clearly unsure whether she’d heard correctly. ‘You’re not serious.’
‘I think you’ve made your positions clear,’ Asim said, a dangerous timbre in his voice. ‘Prejudice in one form or another has been responsible for many of the world’s evils. I’m not prepared to sacrifice another life on its altar.’
‘Hey, Asim,’ Sean said, breaking into a shaky laugh. ‘No need for this. We just don’t want David here to get hurt, that’s all.’ He offered a smile to Tallis, who viewed him with the same disdain as if Sean had shaken him down for money. Sean looked at Roz, who dropped her gaze and shrugged.
‘Good.’ Asim nodded, a calculating smile on his lips. ‘Then you’d better listen to what the man says.’
And they did.
They were poring over an ordnance survey map of the area for a third time. The plan was simple: Sean and Roz were to stage an abduction of Mrs Kennedy and her child, and Tallis was going to play the hero and come to their rescue. Everyone knew that what was intended carried a high risk of injury, or worse. Although concern for Kennedy’s wife and child was paramount, they also had to take into account other road-users. For this reason, the interception had to take place early in the morning, early in the journey, before the rural landscape became urban.
They’d already established the route, possible escape paths, timing, vehicle and ID of the driver, a twenty-eight-year-old West Indian known as Desmond ‘Dread’ Williams.
‘He’ll be armed,’ Tallis told them.
‘Naughty, naughty,’ Sean said. Now that he’d been told exactly how it was all going down, he’d started to put forward sensible suggestions. He also had a nice sense of humour. About Roz, Tallis felt less certain, probably because she said little, let alone found Sean’s asides amusing.
Tallis pointed out that Dread favoured the Ingram Mac 10, a popular weapon with Yardies and black gangs. From the shade of the willow tree, he’d watched Dread swagger and show his latest toy to Pisshead. ‘What about us?’ Tallis said, regarding Asim.
‘Sean and Roz will be armed. For authenticity’s sake, you won’t.’
‘Fabulous,’ Tallis said, unsmiling.
‘Sorry, but that’s the way it has to be. You start waving a firearm about and you’ll look like part of the plot.’
‘Can’t I have a piece in my glove compartment?’
‘Only piece you’ll be needing is a hands-free phone.’
Tallis wasn’t persuaded but he knew better than to argue with Asim, especially in front of the others.
Sean turned to Roz. ‘Better take a look and familiarise ourselves with the terrain soon as.’
‘When are we going in exactly?’ Tallis asked. ‘I don’t recommend Mondays unless you fancy getting stuck behind a refuse collection lorry.’
A date was arranged for five days’ time.
It was decided that Roz would act as trigger. A lay-by close to Shakenbrook gave a clear and unobstructed view of the entrance. From there, Roz, riding a motorbike, could confirm the Lexus was being driven with the target occupants inside, and give Dread’s direction of travel. Less than a kilometre down the road, Tallis would already be in position at a junction from which he’d pull in behind the Lexus.
‘Think he’ll notice?’ Sean said.
Depends how stoned he is, Tallis thought. That was the other thing about Dread. He liked his ganja. Had also been known to smoke the odd rock of crack. ‘No special reason for him to be suspicious. Even if he is, there are no lights to jump, no roundabouts to drive round twice, no places for a U turn.’ Tallis was actually
a bit more concerned about his battered old car. Wouldn’t look cool for it to break down in the middle of the operation. He made a mental note to run a maintenance check.
As if Roz had read his mind, she asked what he’d be driving. He told her.
‘How far are you going to get in one of those?’
‘The plan is for you to allow me to escape. What would you prefer, a bright red Ferrari? Might as well paint I’m coming to get you on the bonnet.’
Roz bit her lip and glared.
‘He’s right,’ Sean said, glancing grudgingly at Tallis.
‘Comes down to authenticity.’ Tallis grinned before turning back to Roz. ‘I’m sure you could play dead, or something. Give me a head start.’
She flicked a cold, disdainful smile. ‘I’ll be too busy sorting out Mr Dread.’ Carrying out the hard part was what she meant, Tallis thought, considering what kind of a woman she was, a ball-breaker, or vulnerable as hell. Again, he remembered Lavender, her charm, her quiet confidence. Oh, fuck, he thought, shaking the image of her out of his head. He asked what they intended to do with Dread. Everyone looked at Asim.
‘We’re going to put him on a plane back to Jamaica,’ Asim said. ‘Police want to question him about a murder in Kingston.’
They returned to the map. Sean tracked Tallis’s intended route. ‘You’ll be the eyeball,’ he said.
And the cavalry, unless it went tits up, in which case he’d be the fall guy, Tallis thought.
‘I’ll be waiting here at the choke point,’ Sean said, indicating a spot on the map. ‘Roz, you cut through using the bridle path. I’ll pull out in front—’
‘What are you going to be driving, a Sherman tank?’ Tallis interrupted.
‘A specially reinforced Land Rover,’ Asim chipped in, ‘not unlike our Mr Kennedy’s preferred mode of transport.’
‘Roz pulls her piece,’ Sean continued. ‘I move in. Between us we disable Mr Dread…’
‘And in the meantime, I rescue the woman and child, reverse like fuck up the road and become the hero of the hour.’
Simple.
17
* * *
THE rendezvous, three kilometres from Shakenbrook, was a boarded-up petrol station-cum-store that had recently gone out of business.
It was cold for the time of year and there was a weird cloud formation in the sky as if the blue were crusted in fungus. Tallis was wearing dark clothing so as not to draw attention to himself. Sean followed the same dress code. Roz, an earpiece dangling from her ear, was dressed in leathers. She looked strangely sexless, Tallis thought, suddenly reminded of the hit in Turkey. It made him reconsider the identity and sex of the individual who’d fired three bullets into Garry Morello’s chest. He remembered that Crow still hadn’t got back to him.
They decided to keep to a simple system of communi-cation—target vehicle Car 1, the Rover Car 2, Land Rover Car 3, bike Romeo. At 7:35 a.m. each drove to their positions. Tallis parked, taking care to align all four wheels so that he didn’t appear to be on the lookout for someone, turned off the engine, checked his watch, estimating that in ten minutes the Lexus would be emerging from the drive. He didn’t suffer from nerves. He was too busy watching and waiting, eyes clicking from front to mirror to rear. Which was how he spotted the police car coming up behind him. Great, he thought, sticking on his hazards, wondering what the hell he was going to do if, in a few minutes’ time, Roz gave the standby signal. Sure enough, the police car pulled up. A lone officer got out. ‘Problem?’
‘Flat battery,’ Tallis said. ‘Fortunately, help’s on its way.’
‘Better move it,’ the officer said. ‘It’s obstructing the highway. There’s a short piece of verge back there. I’ll give you a hand.’
Tallis gave a weak smile of thanks. With no choice but to comply, he climbed back inside, letting the handbrake off, and steered the vehicle away from the junction and away from his prime view of the road. Christ, Roz would have his rear in a sling for this. So would Sean. So would Asim.
Two minutes later, he was back in position, praying the copper wouldn’t return and frantically checking his mobile phone for missed calls. Nothing. Worse, it was well past the hour. Eventually, the call came through at 08.30. It wasn’t standby but stand down.
Undeterred by the false start—maybe the child was ill, Tallis pointed out—they reconvened the following day. This time things started more smoothly, but Tallis fizzed with nerves. Bang on 08.05 Roz called. ‘Standby, standby, Car 1 has left target residence, turned left onto the road, heading north. All targets are in vehicle.’
Tallis responded by turning his engine on. ‘Car 2 in position,’ he said. Three minutes later, the Lexus came into view and shot past at speed. Tallis called, ‘Contact, contact,’ pulled out, flooring it, hoping to God Dread was so busy looking ahead he wouldn’t be checking his mirror. As added protection, Tallis used every single hill and bend in the road as cover.
‘Romeo to Car 3,’ Roz said, ‘heading for choke point.’
‘Car 3 in position,’ Sean said.
‘Car 1 ahead, no deviation, driving in excess of sixty miles an hour,’ Tallis said. Christ, he must get through brake pads, he thought, watching as the Lexus’s rear lights flashed on and off as it slowed abruptly for the bends. So far, he’d only seen two other cars on the road, both travelling in the opposite direction. Tallis kept his eyes glued to the Lexus, foot glued to the accelerator. The Rover was starting to judder a bit now, unused to being thrashed. ‘Car 1 passing church on nearside,’ Tallis reported to the team. And, shit, tractor. With breathtaking daring, the Lexus speeded up and sailed past, narrowly missing a lone car coming from the opposite direction. Tallis tried to do the same, but another car popped into view, the driver blasting his horn, forcing him to drop back behind the tractor, which was rumbling down the road at snail’s pace. Swearing like a junkie in need of a fix, it was another five hundred metres before he was able to pull out. Road ahead clear, the Lexus was nowhere to be seen.
Tallis sped off again, eyes skimming the empty horizon, bend after vacant bend, before admitting defeat. ‘Total loss,’ Tallis reported, his gut twisting with failure.
Nobody spoke then Roz came on the air. ‘Contact, contact. Car 1 heading towards position.’
Where was she exactly? Tallis thought, frowning.
‘Car 3 on standby.’ Sean sounded clinical and calm.
They’ve changed the plan, Tallis thought, smacking his foot down, hammering the engine, eyes scanning the open road for sight of the Lexus. As he rounded the second of two bends, he slammed on his brakes, skidding to a halt, the scene before him a vision of chaos. He saw the bike first, or rather bits of it splayed across the road, the Lexus sideways on, caved in where it had been rammed, the Land Rover the other side, sandwiching it. Dread was out of the vehicle, staggering, blood pouring from a wound to his head. Sean was also out, armed, shouting abuse and orders to the terrified females, their screams rending the air. His cue to move, Tallis leapt out of the car and ran. Sean opened fire, deliberately allowing the bullets to go high and wide, Tallis dodging in case. Yanking open the offside rear door, he saw the woman’s face, eyes shot wide, pupils dilated with terror. He grabbed her hand. ‘Come with me.’
‘What?’ She pulled back, teeth chattering, resistant.
‘Look, I don’t know who the hell you are, or what’s going on, but we’re all going to get shot if you stay here. It’s a fucking killing zone.’
Something seemed to click in her head. She nodded, struggled out. ‘And you, little one,’ he said, scooping up the child, running flat out with them both towards his car. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Roz lying motionless, blood spreading onto the tarmac, not playing dead, but dead.
All around them was noise: feet pounding, men shouting, shots ringing out. Something skimmed Tallis’s ear. Glancing back, he saw Dread, raising his weapon, lining him up for another go.
‘Get in,’ Tallis shouted, pushing the child on top of her mother. Thr
owing himself into the driver’s side, he turned the ignition, revved the engine, saw Dread stagger and start to fall, blood bloom and blossom on Sean’s T-shirt. Jaw clenched, Tallis twisted round and, thrusting the gear into reverse, put his foot flat down on the accelerator, laying rubber, speeding back up the way he’d come. When he looked back in his mirror, both men were on the ground.
It had been a disaster.
‘Either of you hurt?’ They were pointing in the right direction, away and on open road, the little girl sobbing uncontrollably, her mother doing her best to calm her.
‘A little bruised. It’s nothing.’ Now that she was out of immediate danger the woman recovered and seemed very controlled. They had that much in common, at least, Tallis thought. Or, perhaps, it was more a case of both of them being very good at masking their emotions.
‘What the hell was that all about?’
She was slow to answer. ‘Business. My husband is a powerful man. He has many enemies.’
‘We should call the police.’
‘No.’
Tallis glanced in the rear-view mirror, saw the look of absolute certainty, recognised that this was indeed Kennedy’s woman, blonde, blue-eyed and beautiful. An image of her naked flesh flashed before his eyes. ‘But those people tried to kill you.’
‘Not kill me, take me.’
‘Same difference,’ he said. ‘I really think it best if—’
‘My husband will know what to do.’
‘But—’
‘He’ll want to thank you,’ she said, looking out of the window. She’d put a hand to her face and was brushing a stray hair back over her ear.
‘We’ll call the police once we’ve spoken to him,’ Tallis said, insistent, playing the good citizen. He wondered what Asim was doing—probably issuing orders for a clean-up squad to move in. He didn’t like to think of Sean, much less of Roz.
‘Yes,’ she said without conviction, then, leaning forward, she introduced herself. ‘I’m Samantha Kennedy. This is my daughter, Melissa. You are?’
The Mephisto Threat Page 14
