‘Thank God for that. I was beginning to wonder what tale I was going to have to spin to explain your latest line of thinking.’
‘So your feelings weren’t entirely altruistic?’
‘Let’s leave my feelings out of this,’ she said, a playful note in her voice.
‘Lavender, are you flirting with me?’
‘Would you like me to?’
He looked around him, peered out into the darkness. What kind of a question was that? Funnily enough, when Belle had been alive, he’d always been up for a bit of flirtation because it had meant nothing to him. He’d already got the woman of his dreams. And now? He couldn’t deny he’d entertained the odd fantasy about Lavender, clothes on, clothes off. ‘I guess I wouldn’t say no.’
‘Good. I’ll remember that next time we talk.’ And then she was gone.
32
* * *
TALLIS spent the following day running maintenance checks on the vehicles and supervising the security arrangements for Samantha and Melissa. He was glad of the distraction—it helped control the mounting tension. Rex was given strict orders to have the control room manned at all times. Anything worrying and he was to report directly back to Tallis. Justin, meanwhile, was tasked with running the unit in Walsall. To Tallis’s surprise, he seemed quite happy with the arrangement. He wondered what Kennedy had promised him by way of a sweetener.
It was agreed that Tallis, suitably loaded up with painkillers, would drive Kennedy in the Vanquish, both the Land Rover and TT used as decoys in case they had company. Tallis made arrangements for the TT to be dropped back at his place afterwards to further confuse an enemy. According to Kennedy, the meeting was to take place in London at noon, the final destination to be agreed at the last moment.
‘Where do you think it will take place?’ Tallis asked Kennedy.
‘A sparsely populated location.’
‘Bit difficult seeing as we’re heading for the capital. Who makes the final decision?’
‘Take it in turns. We’re a democratic lot, you know.’ Kennedy smiled obliquely.
‘I’d love to say I believe you. Whose turn this time?’
‘Ahmed’s.’
Oh, Tallis thought, relieved that Ahmed was being watched by MI5.
That evening Tallis retired to bed early, not that he expected to sleep. There were too many variables, too much at stake. The grave possibility that word of Kennedy’s betrayal had been leaked continued to plague him.
He was housed in one of the guest rooms in the west wing, the east reserved for what Kennedy called his staff. The en suite bathroom alone was the size of Tallis’s bedroom in the bungalow. It was agreed that they’d leave around 8:15 a.m., after the decoys had gone their separate ways. After checking his room for any listening devices, Tallis phoned Lavender.
‘Hope you’ve got your finest haute couture at the ready.’
‘And stilettos suitably sharpened.’
He wondered what her legs were like. So far he’d only ever seen her in jeans and leathers. ‘Nervous?’
‘Should I be?’
‘Probably.’ No point in lying.
‘Let’s say I’ve a healthy respect for our enemies.’ Good answer, he thought. ‘Are you going to be fit enough to drive?’ she asked.
‘I’ve got enough medication to fell a rhino.’
‘Will you be clear-headed enough?’ Lavender’s voice was shot through with alarm.
‘Don’t worry. The doc’s come up with a suitable cocktail. Might turn me into a junkie but that’s another story.’
‘What are you driving?’
Tallis told her.
‘If it’s good enough for 007, I guess it’s good enough for you.’ She laughed. ‘Does it come complete with rocket launchers and ejector seats?’
‘If only. Think you’ll be able to keep up?’
‘Piece of cake.’
‘What the hell are you driving? Didn’t think the budget extended to Lamborghini.’
‘Depends whose budget we’re talking about.’
‘Oh, yeah, meaning?’
‘Wait and see.’
‘God, you’re infuriating.’ He laughed.
‘Infuriating and conscientious. After your call, I spent some time checking old information.’
‘Uh-huh?’
‘At the time of the accident, Billy Kennedy was taking heavy-duty anti-depressants.’
‘How did you find that out?’
‘I have my ways,’ Charlie said, mysteriously.
Tallis considered Charlie’s news. ‘You think he really stepped in front of the car deliberately?’
‘Wouldn’t like to say. It could be that he was so doped up he wasn’t concentrating.’
‘Yeah, that might explain it.’
‘It doesn’t really change things, does it?’
‘I guess not.’ Except it made him wonder quite how much Billy looked forward to those visits from his father.
The Vanquish was a joy to drive once they hit the motorway. Tallis found the six-speed Formula 1 style paddle-shift gearbox confounding to start with until Kennedy talked him into switching the gearbox to automatic mode.
‘Only until we hit major tarmac,’ he explained.
Ever watchful, Tallis saw no sign of a tail. Neither did he spot Lavender, which was more disappointing than worrying. The ride and handling was so superb he fancied showing off a bit. They were moving from the M42 onto the 6 when Tallis caught sight of a sparkling red Ferrari Spider moving from the middle lane into the outside lane. In four and a half seconds it was hot on his rear, the noise it made loud enough to blow his pants off.
‘Fuck me.’ He grinned.
‘Problem?’ Kennedy said.
Tallis shook his head. ‘Back-up.’
For the next ten miles they played cat and mouse, Lavender proving to be as tenacious as his next-door neighbour’s moggy. When a police car homed into view on the opposite carriageway Tallis immediately killed his speed, Lavender, pulling over into the middle lane, following suit.
‘Thank Christ for that,’ Kennedy said. ‘What’s she like, your girl?’
‘She’s not my girl.’
‘You fancy the pants off her.’
‘Don’t be soft.’ Tallis felt the skin on his neck flush.
‘It’s all right. You’re allowed.’
‘What the hell does that mean?’
‘All I’m saying,’ Kennedy said with a big sigh, ‘is that in your line of work you have to take your fun where you can find it.’
‘That right?’ Tallis felt a sudden cold and unaccountable rush of anger. How dare this bloody man give him life lessons?
They didn’t speak again until they joined the M1. Kennedy broke the silence. ‘Those guys yesterday. I’ve done some asking around. So far come up empty. Leads me to think it was you they were after.’
‘Yeah?’
‘I guess a bloke like you has his fair share of enemies.’
‘None that I’m aware of.’ Who was he kidding?
Kennedy looked out of the window. ‘I envy you.’
Tallis glanced across. There was strain in his voice. For the first time Tallis noticed grey-blue shadows underneath Kennedy’s eyes. He seemed to be fighting an urge to say something momentous. ‘You all right, Johnny?’
Kennedy didn’t answer.
‘Johnny?’
‘Do you find it difficult?’ Kennedy blurted out.
‘What?’
‘Doing this.’
‘Driving the Aston, looking after you, track—?’
‘The deception, pretending you’re someone you’re not, becoming a bad guy to defeat people like me.’
‘Believe me, I’m having difficulty understanding who the bad guys are exactly.’ Tallis laughed lightly, his attempt at humour falling on stony ground judging by the hunched set of Kennedy’s shoulders. Tallis continued in a more serious vein. ‘Deception is no more than playing a part, falling into a role, something we all do. You, of all peopl
e, understand that.’
‘Oh, I do. But I never said it was easy.’
Tallis had to think about that. He was at ease with what he was doing, yes, and lying came naturally to him. Was that the same thing? ‘As for wanting to defeat people like you—your words, not mine,’ he added, ‘it’s not what I’m about.’
‘No?’
‘You’re part of a much bigger picture.’
‘Defence of the realm and all that,’ Kennedy said.
‘Yeah, if you like. We’re in this together.’
‘And when it’s all over?’
I go back to my life and you go to God knows where. ‘Step at a time, Johnny.’
Kennedy’s mobile rang as they passed the turning for Milton Keynes. From the sound of it, Tallis thought the caller was Ahmed, or at least one of Ahmed’s men, that there was a change of plan. Kennedy was clipped and precise. ‘Yes, got that,’ he said, glancing at his watch. ‘I’ll see you there.’
Kennedy closed his phone. ‘We’re to drive to Bedford. There’s a farm not far from Sandy.’
Where the Headquarters of the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds was located, Tallis thought, remembering a school trip there a long time ago. The RSPB, a grand lodge in a Tudor style of yellow brick, was set in rolling countryside. Glancing in the mirror, he saw the Spider two cars behind. Kennedy followed his gaze. ‘She won’t be able to follow. We’re to meet at a drop-point, a lay-by concealed by trees. From there we’ll travel in a number of 4x4s to the farm.’
Tallis didn’t like it. ‘You OK with that?’
‘Sure.’
Whatever he thought of Kennedy, he had to admit the man had balls. Tallis alerted Lavender. ‘Papa to Romeo receiving?’
‘Romeo, go ahead.’
He told her of the change of plan and the fact that she’d have to drop back and drop out.
‘Say again.’
Tallis repeated the message. ‘And no breaking orders this time,’ he added sternly.
‘Roger that.’
Didn’t sound happy, Tallis thought. He turned to Kennedy. ‘Looks as if your tip about the type of possible location was spot on.’
After being frisked by Ahmed’s men, they shared a bumpy ride up a narrow farm track with Steve, the cannabis importer from Manchester, and his heavy.
‘You heard about Ergul?’ Steve said, his pale complexion the colour of congealed lamb fat.
‘Bad business,’ Kennedy said, shaking his head. Tallis looked straight ahead, pleased that sunglasses were de rigueur for a second in command. ‘Think it’s an inside job?’ Kennedy continued.
‘Hard to say. I know we’ve had some problems but this feels different.’
‘I agree. Nobody’s had the balls yet to knock off a capo.’
‘You and your Mafia slang.’ Steve grinned.
‘Born in the wrong country.’ Kennedy let out a laugh.
‘Wrong century, more like.’
Tallis looked out of the window at the changing landscape. Having skirted the river Ouse, they were climbing steadily upwards, heading north, pleasant countryside replaced by more desolate-looking scenery. At last the farmhouse, or what was left of it, came into view. It was surrounded by broken-down caravans, old cars, sheds and rubbish piled high. As they pulled into a yard, Tallis saw three other 4x4s already parked. Ahmed came out of the front door and greeted Kennedy with a smile that was both warm and deferential.
‘Mr Wo sends his apologies. He has suffered a close bereavement.’
‘Sorry to hear that,’ Kennedy said. ‘The others were able to make it?’
‘All apart from our Turkish friends.’ Ahmed’s dark eyes glittered.
‘You know who’s taking Ergul’s place?’
‘Rumoured to be Erol.’
Kennedy nodded sagely.
Then Ahmed’s gaze turned to Tallis. ‘You’ve been injured, I see.’
‘Yes.’
‘My fault.’ Kennedy laughed. ‘Bit of sparring that got out of hand.’
Ahmed nodded, eyes unsmiling. ‘For reasons that will be made clear, Johnny, we thought it best to confine all talk to ourselves. Your man may wait with the others.’
Shit, were they being deliberately split up? Tallis thought. All his worst fears came into the sharpest of focus. This was exactly the type of variable that had worried the life out of him. Somebody somewhere had got wind of Ergul and Alpi’s suspicions, and confirmation of Kennedy’s betrayal. No doubt about it, they were both doomed, caught in a trap, the end of the road. From the expression on Kennedy’s face he thought the same.
‘Is this really necessary?’ Kennedy said, glancing at Tallis, flashing a nervous smile.
Ahmed’s gaze was unswerving. ‘It is.’
Tallis looked around him. He was unarmed. He had one wrist in a cast. There were two other men apart from Ahmed. He could probably take them down, but that left whoever else was in the house. Perhaps Asim’s operatives were nearby, not that he could see them. Seconds passed then he caught the burble of low voices coming from a nearby barn, a brief laugh, the comforting sound of human voices.
‘You’ll find refreshments in there,’ Ahmed said, signalling to one of his men to escort Tallis out of earshot. With a brief backward glance at Kennedy, he made his way slowly in the direction of the noise. As soon as he entered he smiled to himself. Here we go again, he thought. With luck, the only danger facing him was boredom.
As he’d thought, same old faces, same damn routine. Only change was the environment. The barn smelt of straw and dried-on cow shit. Wind whistled through the thinly plastered walls. A wooden refectory table laden with food and drink butted up against the far wall.
Most ‘lieutenants’ milled about in a desultory fashion, some helping themselves to food and drink. Tallis exchanged greetings with the Sicilian he recognised from last time, studiously avoided eye contact with the Albanian and Russian contingent and nodded politely to a Bristolian Yardie. Pouring himself orange juice, he decided to try and talk to Ahmed’s right-hand man, a short, stocky bloke with bent features. Didn’t get far. As soon as Tallis opened his mouth, he was thrown a glare as devastating as a flamethrower. He’d be about as much use as an a-Q operative with amnesia, Tallis thought, neatly sidestepping him and helping himself to a plate of samosas. He ended up hovering on the periphery of a conversation between the Sicilian and the dreadlocked Yardie about the cost-effectiveness of crack as opposed to straight cocaine.
‘Ting is, you get fifty lines from an ounce of coke, almost eight times that in rocks of crack,’ the Yardie said. ‘At home we supplies the smackheads with free crack to get ’em hooked.’
Not forgetting the prostitutes, Tallis thought. Acting as a stimulant, it meant they could work for longer hours and, unlike in the case of heroin, there were no obvious offputting physical symptoms, like atrocious skin. With its highly addictive qualities, it really was becoming a scourge, and the Yardies in Bristol and the rest of the United Kingdom were raking it in.
The meeting lasted a little short of five long hours, the bosses emerging into the open with much backslapping and fond farewells. Ahmed remained inscrutable as ever. Kennedy, Tallis noticed, was also giving nothing away. Just going through all the genial motions, making the right noises, pressing the buttons. Twenty-three minutes later, they were back in the Aston. Lavender, parked up near the junction to the motorway, picked up the tail as they headed for home.
‘Well?’ Tallis said as soon as they were back in the car. He noticed that Kennedy’s breath smelt of alcohol, his clothes of cigars.
Kennedy shook his head as if he had a fly buzzing in his ear. He asked Tallis to pull over and told him to check the car for listening devices. Tallis did. There were none. Back in the car again, he asked Kennedy what had transpired. Kennedy glanced at his watch.
‘I need to talk to your man and soon. We’ve got roughly forty-eight hours to avert the biggest bomb attack Birmingham has ever seen.’
33
* * *
AFTER a brisk change of plan and direction, Tallis drove Kennedy to a pretty guesthouse, with leaded panes of glass and hanging baskets, in the original part of the old coaching town of Hatfield. Tallis got the impression that the ‘No Vacancies’ sign in the window was down to there being no guests rather than a surfeit of them. A homely looking middle-aged woman with greying blonde hair showed them to their room, a welcome speech on her lips, ruthless intelligence in her eyes.
Asim was waiting for them, as planned. He was sitting in the corner of a room decked out in chintz and old furnishings. Spread out on a huge double bed, with three pillows leaning in a straight line across the headboard, were several maps of Birmingham. Asim looked tired, Tallis thought, spotting the dark shadows underneath eyes that usually sparkled with vitality. The shirt he wore looked a day old and lacked its customary crisp creases. This was a man under pressure.
With no smiles, no handshakes, they got straight to the matter in hand.
‘The bombings are scheduled to take place on Monday,’ Kennedy announced.
‘Plural?’ Asim said.
Kennedy nodded gravely. ‘The first is scheduled to go off at eleven in the morning in the centre of the Mailbox—’ pointing to the map ‘—the second five minutes later at New Street Station, the third,’ he said, pointing to the Bull Ring Shopping Centre, ‘here. Five minutes after that, care of a paramedic attending the scene, the next bomb blast.’
‘What?’ Tallis said, aghast.
‘Inventive, isn’t it?’ Kennedy issued a cold smile.
Cowardly was nearer the mark, Tallis thought with a chill. Christ, how many people would be slaughtered? How many maimed and crippled for life? ‘A massive bombing campaign like that requires sophisticated planning. Where did the explosives come from?’
Kennedy shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
Why not? Tallis thought.
‘We are talking explosives, aren’t we?’ Asim said, a hawkish expression in his eyes. ‘This isn’t some form of dirty bomb?’
The Mephisto Threat Page 28
