The Mephisto Threat

by E. V. Seymour

  ‘You said you were looking for work.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Someone like you might be valuable to my organisation. You have, after all…’ Kennedy paused, his eyes more dark grey than ever ‘…particular skills.’

  Tallis nodded slowly, holding the man’s gaze.

  ‘Because you’re a smart guy, I expect you’re already aware of my criminal history.’ Breathtakingly honest, Tallis thought, immediately suspicious. ‘You also know of my many business interests,’ Kennedy continued, ‘and, as you probably realise, it’s not possible to reach my elevated position without a certain amount of ruthlessness. I’m sure you understand a man in my powerful position has certain enemies.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘What you must also understand is that I prize loyalty more highly than love. If you betray me or go against me, in any way, I will destroy you.’

  What the hell was his game? Tallis thought. Kennedy was an informer, working with Organised Crime Officers. Like Asim had pointed out, he had a role to maintain, but this was stepping well outside his zone. Was Kennedy playing both sides against the middle? Was the lure of criminality stronger than the desire to reform? Was he playing them all for fools? And what had he really been up to in Turkey?

  ‘I won’t betray you,’ Tallis said. Strangely, he found the prospect of doing so unsettling.

  ‘Good boy.’ Kennedy took his left hand in both of his, squeezing it warmly. Tallis imagined it was the way a loving father might congratulate an obedient son.

  ‘He’s taken the bait too easily.’ Tallis was speaking to Asim. He’d been back ten minutes. It was three in the morning and his head was aching with alcohol and nerves.

  ‘You underestimate the impact you’ve made. Kennedy never really got over the tragedy of his son’s accident.’

  I prize loyalty more highly than love. ‘No,’ Tallis insisted. ‘He’s up to something. How’s he going to explain me to his handlers, for a start?’

  ‘He’ll come up with a reason.’

  Tallis wasn’t convinced. The police weren’t stupid. ‘He wants me for his dirty work.’

  ‘Think he’s kicking with both feet?’

  Playing informer while continuing his own nefarious activities.

  ‘It’s the only explanation that makes sense.’

  ‘Has he given you a job description yet?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then don’t worry.’

  ‘Something else,’ Tallis said.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Lavender.’

  ‘What of her?’ Asim’s tone was neutral.

  ‘She was at the fight.’

  ‘Did you engage with her?’

  ‘What do you take me for?’ Tallis snorted.

  ‘Did she engage with you?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘So she was entirely professional?’

  ‘I thought we’d agreed I go in alone. I don’t understand what she was doing.’

  ‘Still got your jacket on?’

  ‘Yes, what—?’

  ‘Check your right-hand pocket.’

  Confounded, Tallis slipped his hand into his jacket. To his amazement, there was a mobile phone inside. He switched it on. There was one message.

  ‘Play it,’ Asim said.

  Tallis did. ‘Hi, Tallis, sorry to sneak up on you like that. Just letting you know I’m here if you need me. Over and out, Charlie.’

  ‘Told you she was good.’ Asim laughed. In spite of being duped, Tallis couldn’t help but smile in agreement. ‘Now, get stuck in there with Kennedy and see what you can turn up.’

  Tallis didn’t have long to wait. He’d been asleep for barely four hours when his doorbell rang. It was Gabriel, looking remarkably chipper.

  ‘Boss wants to see you.’

  ‘What, now?’

  Gabriel glanced at his watch. ‘You’ve got twenty minutes.’

  Tallis let out a grim sigh. He felt like shit. ‘All right,’ he said, making to close the door.

  ‘Boss said I’m to wait inside.’

  Tallis let out another sigh.

  ‘I’ll make myself useful.’ Gabriel’s mouth fell into a rare transforming smile.

  Relenting, Tallis let him in. ‘Mine’s black with two sugars,’ he called over his shoulder, heading straight for the bathroom.

  As Tallis shaved and showered, he could hear Gabriel busying in the kitchen. True to his word, four minutes later, a mug of instant appeared. Tallis consumed coffee as he dressed. Amazed at his capacity to bounce back after a heavy night, he gave himself a quick scan in the mirror, checked the shine on his shoes and told Gabriel he was ready.

  They went to Lye. Seemed strange to be entering the unit in an official capacity, Tallis thought, glancing briefly up at the church tower, his nerves jagging. Bending down, he made out he was retying a loose shoelace and glanced back up. Spotted the camera lens. Was this Charlie behaving carelessly, or someone else?

  ‘You coming?’ Gabriel said tersely.

  ‘Sorry.’ Tallis straightened up, followed him into the office where the same three men and two women he’d spotted during his earlier surveillance were seated at computer terminals. He heard one of the men assure a customer that the sand ordered was of the same type delivered. Obviously some hitch, he was doing his best to explain and smooth things over in best customer-relations fashion. The older chap, the one who had the keys to the building, was sitting staring into his terminal as if he’d lost everything on the horses.

  Kennedy appeared from a doorway. ‘Tallis,’ he said, voice booming across the room, ‘come and meet the team.’ Swift introductions with job titles followed. The morose-looking man was Jim Repton, office manager. Even though he didn’t know the bloke, something definitely seemed up, Tallis thought as he was shown upstairs to the second storey and Kennedy’s private suite. There he was given a brief rundown of the history of the business, number of customers, the extent and range of building materials supplied. During this, Kennedy’s many phones never seemed to stop ringing. Sometimes he offered to call the person back. Other times, he picked up, the conversation brief, to the point and definitely criminal. Didn’t he realise that his calls could be traced? Tallis listened, mesmerised. Then, cool as you like, he quizzed Kennedy about distribution, quantities, marketing and advertising. It took him some time to work out that they were not talking in code, that the business was legitimate, that it wasn’t fronting for something else.

  ‘So basically you’re middle men for the building trade,’ Tallis said.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is that how business is traditionally done? I thought builders preferred to visit merchants in person, see the material, touch it, and negotiate the best deal. Are they really going to be persuaded to use an agent via the Internet?’

  ‘It demands a change of attitude, granted, but think of the time saving. All the customer has to do is press a few buttons, his order is dispatched immediately and, within twenty-four hours, he has the supplies. It’s reliable, simple and cost-effective.’

  Tallis wasn’t convinced. He had mates in the building trade. They liked nothing better than to bomb down to the latest trading estate and jaw. ‘Does the business necessitate travel abroad?’

  ‘You mean do we sell internationally?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘But you envisage a time when you will?’

  ‘Who knows?’ Kennedy smiled. ‘Now, my other business over in Walsall, that’s a different kettle of fish altogether.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘We make and supply incinerators for animal waste.’

  ‘Big market?’

  ‘Growing by the day thanks to new EU regulations. Had a trade fair recently at the National Exhibition Centre and took a lot of orders from abroad.’

  ‘Any countries in particular?’

  ‘Very popular in Saudi for some reason. Other than that, Iraq, Iran, Romania, Turkey.’

  ‘Tu
rkey? Nice place for a holiday.’

  ‘Too bloody hot. Visited not long ago. A few days later and I’d have been caught up in that earthquake.’

  ‘Lucky.’ Tallis smiled, examining Kennedy’s face for signs of guilt and seeing none. A knock on the door concluded the conversation.

  ‘Come in,’ Kennedy said.

  It was Jim Repton. ‘Wondered if I could have a word in private.’

  Kennedy glanced at Tallis. ‘We’re all friends here.’

  Repton looked decidedly uncomfortable. ‘It’s OK,’ Tallis said, making a move to get up. ‘I can make myself scarce.’

  ‘Stay.’ Wasn’t an invitation. From Kennedy, it was an order. Tallis obediently remained where he was. ‘Well, Jim, what’s up?’ Kennedy began in a convivial manner.

  Repton glanced down at the floor. ‘It’s my son.’

  ‘Darren?’

  Repton nodded. ‘He was jumped last night, got beaten up bad, really bad.’

  ‘Know his attacker?’

  ‘Two boys he goes to school with. They’ve been bullying him for months.’

  ‘Speak to the school?’

  ‘Got nowhere.’

  ‘Police?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘It’s not that simple.’

  Kennedy flexed his fingers, making the knuckles crack. Tallis was reminded of a scene from The Godfather.

  Repton swallowed, acutely uncomfortable. Next came a rambling account of everyday urban anti-social behaviour. ‘One of the boy’s fathers, he’s a nasty piece of work, lives round the corner from us. Got this dog, see, a Doberman. Walks round the neighbourhood with the thing as though he owns the estate. It’s always scaring the life out of people. My wife, she doesn’t like dogs, frightened of them. Got bitten by an Alsatian when she was a nipper. So she’s out walking to the shops and this thing, the Doberman, comes at her, no lead, no muzzle. Fortunately, a neighbour pulled her into his garden and closed the gate on it, but she was really shaken.

  ‘Mad as hell, I went round to see the bloke, told him…’ He broke off, cleared his throat, Adam’s apple squeezing up and down like it had a life of its own. ‘Anyway, he smacked me one, threatened he’d set the dog on me and my wife and kids. If I went to the police, he said he’d kill me.’

  ‘And you believe him?’ Kennedy said, voice low.

  ‘I do. My son…’ He faltered, tears filling his eyes. ‘Doctors say he may lose the sight in one eye.’

  It’s a police matter, Tallis thought, and any medic worth his salt would report something as serious as that to the authorities in any case. The problem probably lay with the lad. Tallis would bet he was suffering from a bad case of victim amnesia.

  ‘What do you want from me?’ Kennedy said.

  Repton swallowed hard. ‘I want you to make it stop.’

  Kennedy nodded, took out a pen. He asked Repton for names, addresses, descriptions of the man and the boys. He asked what the thug in question did for a living.

  ‘Mechanic.’ This seemed to delight Kennedy. He then asked for the name of the garage.

  ‘Go and grab yourself a cup of coffee and go home to your wife and son. Tell them not to worry. Tell them everything will be fine. And here,’ Kennedy said, scribbling down a note and handing it to Repton. ‘This is the name of my private doctor. Give him a ring and tell him I sent you. He’s the best man to look after your son. Ask him to send the bill to me.’

  Tallis looked on. He’d witnessed the most extraordinary demonstration of power, seen Kennedy as he really was: a fixer, an avenger, nemesis. When Repton left in a flurry of thanks and gratitude, Kennedy picked up his phone, spoke to Justin, gave him the low-down and asked him to wait twenty-four hours so that the intended victim was lulled into a false sense of security, then sort it. Tallis had visions of the dog being buried alive with its master.

  ‘Right, where were we?’ Kennedy said, as if he’d just asked his secretary to pop out and buy an anniversary card for his wife.

  ‘Turkey,’ Tallis said.

  ‘Home of heroin barons.’

  ‘Thought the Turkish government had cleaned up.’

  ‘They have, which is why the kingpins have relocated here. Heroin is still being shipped direct.’

  ‘That the real reason for your last visit?’

  Kennedy broke into a big, beaming smile. So that’s what Garry had been trying to tell him. Drugs, pure and simple. Nothing to do with terrorism at all. He wondered if Napier knew about Kennedy’s extra-curricular activity. It was one thing to play along, another to actively solicit for business. Perhaps that’s why he’d paid a visit to Shakenbrook, Johnny’s palatial home, to put Kennedy back into his box. But sitting there, in front of the man, it didn’t take him long to alter his view. Napier was no match for Kennedy. Not many people were.

  20

  * * *

  TALLIS spent the next four days being talked through the workings of both the legitimate and illegal side of Kennedy’s businesses. On the surface, Kennedy employed around forty personnel. Tallis reckoned at least half had extra-curricular duties. As yet he’d not been offered a professional role, his only remit to be present during certain hours of the day and night, whenever Kennedy dictated. The incinerators, Tallis discovered, were manufactured in a workshop at the Walsall site.

  ‘On-site burial of animal carcasses is illegal,’ Kennedy explained.

  The farmers in Herefordshire, where Tallis had grown up as a boy, sent their fallen stock to the hunt kennels. He told Kennedy this.

  ‘Still can but it poses a number of bio-security risks. Nobody wants to take chances after foot and mouth, swine fever, blue tongue, let alone the prospect of bird flu. Incineration really is a much more efficient method. For something as large as a cow, we make this brand,’ he said, pointing out a machine. ‘Comes with a trolley and winch to help load the carcass into the incinerator.’

  ‘Front loading?’

  ‘Yes. All the operator has to do is select the appropriate burn programme and walk away.’

  ‘That it?’

  ‘Simple.’ Kennedy smiled.

  Ashes to ashes, Tallis thought, feeling mildly uncomfortable.

  Most of the employees were from Eastern Europe. Asians, he noticed, were conspicuous by their absence. Bearing in mind they made up a large percentage of the population, Tallis felt surprise, something he expressed to Kennedy.

  ‘Where you’ve got Asians, you have police raids.’ Kennedy gave a shrug. ‘And police raids are bad for business.’

  By business, Kennedy meant the brothel that masqueraded as a massage parlour. The quantities of drugs that got shipped through the haulage company that was nothing more than a front, but Kennedy’s real skill was in his list of contacts. He knew what was going on, what was being planned, who was next for the chop. No wonder the police wanted him as an informer, Tallis thought. The constant barrage of visitors to Kennedy’s establishments, some of them known faces, also proved a revelation.

  Twice, Tallis overheard Kennedy recommending a particular individual for a certain type of job, the jobs in question armed robbery and extortion. He also listened in as Kennedy gave a masterclass on the most effective method for getting hold of knock-off booze, a fake passport and firearms. A dissertation on drugs went along familiar lines. Kennedy no longer considered the profit margins in cannabis to be rewarding, Ecstasy not cost-effective, cigarettes and bootleg liquor too competitive. Cocaine and heroin, however, were the name of the game.

  The real problem, he stated, was taking money from A to B to pay for drug shipments. No longer could you rely on a courier to deliver a suitcase full of notes. More and more, Western drug barons were adopting the centuries-old system of hawala, a means of transferring money without actually moving it, the main advantage being that it’s untraceable. The more time Tallis spent in his company, the more open Kennedy became. Although he had the protection of the police, for a sharp operator he was behaving like an ingénue. Which meant only
one thing. Kennedy was on to him.

  And still no whiff of terrorism.

  That night, Tallis caved in.

  The day had been less than satisfactory. He felt as if he was on a trail leading nowhere. Feeling too lazy to cook, he’d succumbed to the instant charm of fish and chips from the chippie and got caught out by a bad bout of indigestion. Downing some antacids, he’d started to read a book written by a couple of Americans on the first Gulf War but, after winding up going over the same paragraph twice and still not taking in the information, switched to the TV. With nothing of consequence to view, he flicked on the radio, catching the ten o’clock news announcing the usual mix of job cuts, death and destruction. He turned it off.

  He’d locked the phone Lavender had given him in an old cash box that he kept behind the back panel of his bath. A determined individual could easily find it. Tallis’s precautions against theft, however, were aimed at the opportunist criminal, the less intelligent type who regularly burgled the homes in his area. Taking a screwdriver from a drawer in the kitchen, he walked into the bathroom, undid the screws from the panel and hoiked out the box, taking it through to his bedroom where he held a set of keys.

  The phone, a tiny, functional, no-frills brand, sat like a grenade in the palm of his hand. Switching it on, it immediately sprang into life, ready and primed for action. Why am I doing this? Tallis thought. I’m here if you need me. That’s what Charlie had said. But what sort of need did she have in mind? To the point, what sort of need did he have in mind? He wasn’t about to call to enlist her professional help. His motivation didn’t stem from a feeling of guilt for snubbing her. He wasn’t even interested in discussing her sleight-of-hand technique for dropping the phone into his jacket pocket. No, he was calling her for the worst of reasons: because he felt incredibly alone. Checking the call history, he punched in the number. Lavender answered after three rings.

  ‘Hello, Tallis.’

  He could hear the smile in her voice, made him feel glad. ‘Neat trick, the phone. I’m impressed.’

  ‘That was the idea.’