by Seb Kirby
Madeline Jamieson turned to her husband. “Phil, let’s separate. We’ll have more chance of making good finds.”
Phil Jamieson was less interested in any of this but was keen to please her. “OK, Maddie. See you back here in twenty minutes.”
Madeleine made her way along the shore, searching as she went, and before long she’d found the first of the half-dozen clay pipe fragments she was to collect. She couldn’t help thinking, now, if only I could find an intact clay pipe, that would be something to show Phil.
She’d walked further than intended and was by now some distance away from the main group. In fact, she was approaching the buttress supports of Vauxhall Bridge.
When she saw the body she gave out a long and piercing scream heard a quarter of a mile away.
The body was bloated and in the late stages of decomposition. It had been dumped in the Thames some days before and the weights used to keep it beneath the water had now slipped. Brought in on the morning tide it had been washed against the supports of the bridge where it was now lodged.
The tour guide was the first to reach her and tried to calm her. “Just take deep breaths. Did I see you were with your husband? He’ll soon be here.”
When Phil Jamieson arrived, the guide was quick to attempt to reassure him. “It’s one of those unfortunate events we can’t guard against. I’m sure your wife will be able to get over this with your help.”
He wrapped his arms around his wife and walked her away from the scene. He tried to cheer her. “We didn’t expect to find anything as Charles Dickens as that, eh?”
She attempted a smile. “And this town is supposed to be so peaceful.”
Chapter 18
When Bedford returned to the apartment in Pimlico he was disappointed. Colin McGraw was with him in the expectation that Adam Weston would be willing and able to take detailed instructions on how to assist the Bureau.
They knew something was wrong when they arrived at Weston’s smashed front door. When they looked inside it was clear the apartment was unoccupied. The computing equipment that all but filled the small space was smashed. Weston had run.
Bedford tried to remain analytical. “Maybe he wasn’t as scared of us as we thought.”
McGraw rolled his eyes. “No way you can second-guess these computing types. They’ve got to be on the spectrum in the first place to be into serious hacking. No one knows which way they might jump.”
“It’s not going to please Maynard.”
“Nothing’s going to please Maynard, you should know that by now.”
Bedford held his arm across the doorway as McGraw was about to walk through. “Hold on, Colin. You need shoe covers and gloves.”
They pulled on the protective gear and went in. Bedford was first, walking toward the smashed computer equipment, reaching down, pressing his gloved palm to the floor and showing it to McGraw. “RFID dust. We don’t want to end up following each other.”
McGraw smiled. “That would be a waste. So where’s Weston?”
Bedford opened the cover on his tablet computer and selected the locator app. “Let’s see.”
The locator gave a time-averaged summary of the places where Weston had triggered the transponders attached to his shoes. “He’s moving around. Unsettled. He’s too clever or too paranoid to give us a new address where he’s holed up or just plain lucky that if he has a new base there’s no EM source near enough to trigger the tags.”
“But we can follow him, right?”
“Yes we can, though it’s not perfect. But there’s a problem.” Bedford showed McGraw the screen. “Even if he is that paranoid, there’s no way he should be in two places at the same time.” The map showed two blinking blue pinpoints in real time.
McGraw looked puzzled. “What does it mean?”
“More than one target has picked up the tags.”
“Someone else has been here and picked up the dust?”
Bedford nodded. “There’s no other explanation.”
“So what do we tell Maynard? We can’t tail Weston?”
“No. We split. You take one trace. I take the other. That way we’ll catch up with Weston and we’ll find out who else is spoiling our game.”
Chapter 19
Inspector John Hendricks surveyed the body of DI Martin Reid, fished out of the Thames, now in the morgue.
So, this was where all those dreams of serving the public had ended. Thrown up by the tide as scum on the back of humanity.
Hendricks was more concerned than ever. He now had to admit to four deaths on his patch. He turned to Franklin. “Just what makes an honest copper like Reid go off the rails and end up like this?”
Franklin looked shaken but trying not to show it. He hadn’t seen many corpses in his short career in the Force. “It’s a fair question, boss.”
“I don’t like the idea of one of our own being on the take. I don’t like the idea of Reid being involved in the Peggy Westland killing. I don’t like the way he attached himself to the Blakes, following them from Weymouth, checking them out at the hotel where another murder took place. And you know what I like even less, Franklin? I don’t like the idea that there are people running free in this town who can do these things and think they can get away with it.”
“I know that, sir.”
“So why do we think Reid wanted to follow the Blakes? And what led him to the Peggy Westland apartment?”
“Could have been something in it for him, sir.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just the rumors going round the Force. There’s money to be made, big money, if you can deliver the Blakes.”
“Deliver to whom?”
“Don’t know that, sir. As far as I’ve heard you need to ask Andrew McKenzie. He’s drugs squad. He’s the man.”
Hendricks smiled. “Not much point in my asking anything of him, is it? But you might get a result.”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“I mean, if Martin Reid was on the make, McKenzie could be the one who put him up to it. But there’s no way McKenzie is going to believe that a tired old copper like me would have anything to do with anything as shady.”
“Your reputation precedes you, sir.”
Hendricks nodded. “You’re right. But if you were to go talk to McKenzie, he might think you were trying to drink from the trough. Enough to let on.”
None of the men in the drugs squad deserved much respect as far as Hendricks was concerned. They sought credit for the risks they took and the lives they led when all along those undercover identities so often led them to be too close to those they were seeking to police. Hendricks was scornful of their whole approach.
Franklin tracked down Andrew McKenzie in the Anzil Bar at London Bridge. It was early afternoon and the drugs squad man had been drinking.
He sat beside McKenzie at the bar. “All right if we have a word?” McKenzie didn’t hide his displeasure at being approached by a rookie who, though out of uniform, still looked for all the world like a copper. “No problem. If anyone says anything, I’ll tell them you’re feeling my collar.”
Franklin was uncertain how to play this and decided to jump straight in. “I hear there’s a reward being offered on the Blakes?”
McKenzie exhaled. “What makes you think I know anything about that?”
“Look, I have a lead to where they are and I need to make some serious money fast.”
“You got personal problems?”
“The mortgage. I can’t pay it back with what I’m getting from the Force. The house is in negative equity, so even if I sell it, I’m still stuffed. The wife is saying we should post the keys with the building society and scarper. It means we lose everything.”
“You got real info on the Blakes?”
Franklin nodded.
The drugs squad man looked for a moment as if he might take the bait. But he was playing with the rookie. “Tell Hendricks I don’t know why he would send you to talk to me. I don’t have any idea why
you think I could help you.”
McKenzie waited a few minutes after Franklin left before phoning Cleary. “Giles. I’ve just had one of Hendricks’ men sniffing around.”
“You didn’t tell him anything?”
“Course not.”
Chapter 20
Police chief Pedro Martinez got the result he wanted with a speed that surprised Miles.
“Senor Blake. It is all in the name. Reyas is not usual, not here in Tijuana. The name is common as Reyes or Reyez but not as Reyas. We have Luiz Reyas here.”
Miles was shown into the interrogation room where the young man was seated.
Martinez shrugged his shoulders. “He has not spoken since his arrest. I will leave you with him, Senor. But I don’t think he will be any more responsive with you.”
Miles sat opposite the young man and said nothing for a long time. He was observing how much the young Luiz was like Luiz senior would have looked when he was nineteen.
When Miles spoke, he chose his first words with care. “Tell me, Luiz, just how many men are you going to have to kill to keep your place in the cartel long enough to avenge your family?”
Luiz remained silent.
“You don’t think I understand. Is that it?”
More silence.
“I was there when your father died.”
The young man jumped, not sure what he’d just heard. Unsure enough to need to break silence. “You are playing with words, Senor. You do not know how we live.”
Miles leaned closer. “No, Luiz, I mean just what I say. I knew your father. I was there. He died in my arms. And I made him a promise.”
Luiz sneered. “You will not convince me this is not some kind of trick.”
“Show me your right arm. I’ll prove it to you.”
The young man shrugged his shoulders as if to say he had nothing to lose. He rolled back the shirtsleeve on his right arm.
“Three stars. You’ve killed three men. Your father had over a hundred stars.”
“So?”
“He told me what it meant.”
“He had killed a hundred men. So what? Anyone could know that about him.”
“No. He’d killed so many and wasn’t proud of it. He’d killed so many to keep close to those who knew enough for him to complete his mission, handed down to him by his father, just as that mission is now handed down to you.”
Luiz looked shocked. It took time for him to reply. “If you know this, you knew my father. Is that why you are here?”
Miles nodded. “It’s a promise I made to him as he died.”
Luiz Reyas continued talking but his gestures made it clear his words were not important. They were meant for whoever might be listening. Instead he pointed to Miles’ notebook and pen, inviting him to pass them over. He wrote at speed in good English and passed the pad back.
We cannot talk here. There are as many from the cartels inside a place like this as there are outside. The more we talk here, the more it is certain we will both be killed. Tell Martinez that I would not say a word to you. Let him think I am not the one you search for. When they release me, I will find you. We will talk then. Do this and we may both have a chance to survive.
Miles read the message and gave back a knowing look. They talked about matters of no consequence for a few minutes more, all the time aware that Miles was going to act as requested.
When the meeting was over, Miles told Martinez this was not the Luiz Reyas he was seeking. The police chief accepted this with a shrug. “I wish you well, Senor. I will help where I can in finding the one you seek. You understand this cannot be a high priority. But you are free to go.”
“I understand. I’m grateful.” Miles was careful to not overdo the sense of disappointment. He had done enough, he hoped, to guard against any informer from within the police station. Yet he could not be sure that, once released, he would see Luiz Reyas again.
His fears were unfounded as later that evening the young man came to Miles’ hotel room.
“Senor, we can now talk.”
Miles welcomed him in and they sat on the hotel room balcony, concealed from the city square below. “Thank you for coming. We have a lot to talk about.”
Luiz appeared defensive. “I hear you are a journalist. You are here for a story. When you have your story you will be gone. Me and my kind will still be here as we were. Nothing will have changed. You will have used us just as everyone else seeks to use us.”
“I’ll be straight with you, Luiz. It was like that at first with your father. You’re right. I needed a story. He offered information. I paid for information. But we found we had a common cause, your father and I. Something we didn’t expect when we first began to work together. It’s the greater reason why I’m here. I promised your father I would find you.”
Miles told the Mexican about the events in East Texas, about how Luiz Reyas senior had been following the German, Wolfgang Heller. How they had been pursued by Heller and cornered in the abandoned railway station in Austin where Luiz Reyas senior had been killed. When Miles told the young Mexican about the role of El Romero in helping the German target those he was employed to assassinate, Luiz could not hide that he was shaken.
“I did not know he was involved. You should know, Senor, that in El Romero you are talking about a very violent man, even by the ways of Tijuana.”
“And I need to tell you even by the ways of El Romero, Wolfgang Heller is a very violent man. He was responsible for the death of your father.”
“Then I will find him and kill him.”
Miles leaned forward and looked deep into the young man’s eyes. “I know there is more to it. I know about your father’s mission – your mission to avenge the harm done to your family long ago. And I know who was behind the shame brought upon them.”
“How could you know that, Senor?”
“It’s what your father and I discovered. The family that commissioned Wolfgang Heller to carry out those killings is the same family that shamed your family all those years ago.”
“They have a name?”
“Lando. The family name is Lando.”
“Then, if it is true, Senor, and you can prove this to me, I’m in your debt.”
“I can show you proof enough. There is something more you should know. This same Lando family is a threat to me and my family, to those who are near and dear to me.”
“So, just as with my father, Senor, we have common cause.”
Miles nodded. “Yes, common cause.”
“You’re asking me to trust you with my life, Senor. That’s how it is here.”
“We’ll find a way to right the wrongs. Just as with your father.”
“It got him killed.”
“I understand. I’ll also be trusting you with my life.”
They shook hands. The young man’s grip was as sure as his determination to fulfill the mission handed down to him.
He had more to say. “Since we now trust each other with our lives, I must show you this.”
He pulled out a wallet. It opened to reveal a gold badge. “Something I do not often carry, Senor.”
It was the gold badge of an officer of the Policia Federal Ministerial, the PFM, the Federales, the Mexico equivalent of the FBI.
Reyas smiled. “You see, Senor, there is more than one way to complete my mission.”
Miles was still trying to come to terms with what was being said. “Back there in Zona Nolte, that was all for my benefit?”
“Yes, Senor. There are agents of the cartels everywhere, even inside the PFM. Many are forced to work for them out of fear for their families. Others do it for money. Whoever was listening needed to hear the right things about me.”
“And which side are you on?”
“That is something you will have to trust me with. In any case we have common cause, I think you agree.”
“The three stars?”
“Are men I killed. But I killed in the line of duty, nothing more.”
“Wh
at about Martinez?”
“Is he straight? Yes, he is. He arranged our meeting. He is one of the few in this town you should trust.”
“The FBI?”
“They want you. It was me who requested that Martinez should not turn you in. I wanted to know what a man like you had to say about my father. Now I know, I have no interest in turning you in.” He was a changed man, confident, with an authority that belied his years. Miles realized then that the role of inexperienced young cartel member was a cloak he wore well.
Chapter 21
They were aware of being followed as soon as they caught sight of the tall American.
Luigi Bandini was quick to alert Asputi. “Gianni. The one behind us, crossing the street. Looking like he is shopping.”
Asputi was about to turn and look. “Which one, Luigi?”
“Don’t look. We want to lead him to where we want him.”
They were on Oxford Street, shopping for presents to take back home once the issue of the Blakes had been sorted out. It would not be easy to trap the man following them here in such a busy part of London. Yet it was a universal truth that had served Bandini and so many others over the years. If you are going to act, do it immediately and with sudden, unexpected violence.
Bandini called in Carlucci who was circling in the SUV. “Come pick us up.”
Before the vehicle arrived, Bandini was careful to give their tracker every chance of keeping in touch with them while avoiding the impression they knew they were being tailed. He wandered into a side street with shops that you could walk through and exit on an adjacent street running parallel to it. Leaving Asputi in place to draw the tracker’s attention, Bandini entered a shop halfway along the street, walked back along the parallel street and remerged in the first street unseen and behind the tracker.
As the SUV drew up, Bandini acted. He drew out the Uzi from beneath his coat, ran towards the tracker and held the weapon to the man’s head, motioning him towards the SUV. As the side door of the vehicle opened, Asputi joined in as the tracker was pushed into the back seat with Bandini following, all the time holding the weapon to the tracker’s head.
