Hider/Seeker (12 page)

She pulled herself free of Marotta and looked across to Harry for an explanation.

Harry gave nothing away with his eyes and said, ‘Let her go.'

‘Or what?'

‘I know how to find Angela for you.'

‘Tell us where she is and you can both go when we find her.'

‘You don't understand. I said, I know how to find her.'

‘But you don't know where she is?' Marotta became angry, and thumped the table with his fist. ‘Hold her tight,' he shouted at the man in denim. He then glanced at the other man with the beard and said, ‘The floor is yours.'

Harry didn't wait for what was to come next and swung back his elbow, catching ginger full in the mouth, then lurched forward to grab Marotta's throat. They fell to the floor.

‘Harm one hair on her head –' But Harry didn't finish his threat as he was yanked away by ginger and his friend, who then set upon him. Bethany screamed at them, ‘You're killing him. Stop, stop, stop it.'

Marotta got off the floor and dusted down his coat before calling off the men. He signalled them to put Harry back on the chair. Harry looked up at Bethany, his nose bleeding, his eyes and cheeks red from punches.

‘Bridger,' she said with a doleful face, ‘bend with the wind.'

He ignored her advice. ‘Beat me up all you like,' said Harry, ‘but I'm the best chance of you getting Angela and the money back.'

‘Convince me,' said Marotta.

‘It's what I do for a living,' replied Harry. ‘I trace debtors, fraudsters, and missing heirs. Just let Bethany go, she's nothing to do with this.'

Marotta looked down at Harry while folding the collar of his coat back to how it was. ‘Tell me where you would start?'

‘Checking airline passenger lists, her mobile calls, ATM withdrawals?' Harry knew much of what he suggested would be too late or useless. But he only wanted to impress.

‘No one can do that,' said Marotta, ‘apart from government agencies.'

‘You'd be surprised,' replied Harry. ‘It's a corrupt world we live in. But I'm sure you already know that.'

Marotta began thinking again, remaining quiet as he walked in a circle. He stopped still and went across to the table where he scrawled something on a piece of paper. When he'd finished writing, he went across to Harry and said, ‘I have a lot of people looking for her right now. One more won't hurt.'

‘I'll find her before they do.'

‘I'm glad you're so confident because I'm giving you only two weeks or you don't see Bethany again.'

‘That's nowhere long enough. You can't be serious?' said Harry.

‘But I am.'

‘Who does the money belong to?'

Marotta hesitated. There was fear in his eyes for the first time. ‘It's none of your business,' he said, handing the piece of paper to Harry. ‘Don't lose it because everything you need to know about our bank in Beirut is on it. The money has to be in that account by the thirteenth of February. Call the number I've given you when you're ready.'

‘Let Bethany go,' repeated Harry.

‘I think she provides me with the sort of collateral to make you focus. Don't you?' Marotta, nodded to one of the men to take her away.

Harry and Bethany looked at each other as she walked towards the door.

‘Hang in there, Beth. I'll sort this all out.'

The door shut behind her and she was gone.

Harry sat in silence holding the piece of paper he'd just been given.

Marotta stared at him and asked, ‘What are you going to need?'

‘Ten grand, full access to my contacts and my laptop.'

‘What's the money for?'

‘Travel and bribing officials.'

‘We sound like we're in the same business,' said Marotta. He looked across to his two men and said, ‘See he gets what he wants, and don't let him out of your sight.'

‘I don't need them hanging around me. They'll slow me down. I'm not going to run away; you've got Bethany.'

‘That may be so. But in case you fail to meet the deadline, well? I don't have to explain, do I?'

Harry felt uncomfortable wedged between his two minders on the back seat. He complained that the hood was making him feel sick, and it was immediately removed by the man with the beard in case Harry vomited on his lap. The postcode on a passing street name sign told Harry he was in Lewisham. He'd never felt so powerless in his whole life as he looked out of the side window at the dark roads he was being driven through. Rows of council estates, all without identity, imitating an endless wall of mirrors. Feral kids roaming the desolate streets looking for excuses to stretch out the night.

When he tried to ask where Bethany was being kept, he received a smack in the face, making his lip bleed. It was an important question to him. Where was she at that moment? How were her spirits after such an ordeal? He could imagine what was going through her head when she set eyes on him in the gym, and it angered him that he could not offer her an explanation.

Harry was feeling increasingly nauseous in the car, stuck between two big men, and staring at the flaking scalp of the driver. No one replied to his demand to open the window. He tried to make more room for himself in the seat by twisting and turning, but it only earned him another elbow in the mouth.

‘If I'm to help you find Angela Linehan, you're going to have to be a lot nicer to me,' he said, licking the blood from the corner of his lips.

That made the two men on either side of him laugh.

‘What's so funny?' asked Harry.

‘You thinking she can be found,' said the man with the ginger scalp.

‘But I can help find her,' went on Harry.

‘In two weeks? That would be a real frigging miracle.'

‘If I could get online, make some calls, I could dig up some leads.'

Ginger shook his head. ‘You know he's put a two million bounty on her head? There's going to be a lot of people doing what you're doing.'

‘Just get me started tomorrow,' said Harry.

‘You shouldn't have boasted to Mr Marotta like that. He's not someone that you want to disappoint, if you know what I mean.'

The driver's mobile rang and he answered it. After listening patiently, he said, ‘We're about twenty minutes away.'

He ended the call and put his foot down. His driving became erratic, adding to Harry's discomfort as he had to contend with the weight of the two men leaning into him on each change of direction. A dog ran across the road, and the driver jammed his brakes; then accelerated away again. Harry's neck whipped forwards and then backwards.

‘You're going to need to take me more seriously if you want this to work,' said Harry, sitting upright again. ‘Or do you want me to tell Mr Marotta you're the reason why I failed?'

There was no response.

‘I mean it,' said Harry, glancing at the men next to him.

The driver reduced his speed on approaching the A200, but was in too much of a hurry to stop at the junction. Without taking a second look at the fast oncoming traffic, he drove straight out onto the main road.

Harry heard the screech of the thirty ton truck a second before it smashed into the SUV, flipping it over on its side, glass shattering, metal twisting and sparks flying. The four by four came to a rest in the middle of the road, and time stopped still for a few seconds while Harry looked around in disbelief. He was the only one left conscious in the car, thanks to the two big men either side of him whose bodies insulated him from the impact.

Traffic came to a halt and people were gathering outside the wreckage to help. Two teenagers climbed up onto the side of the vehicle and slid back the door. They stared at Harry in utter bewilderment as he was wearing nothing more than a torn hospital gown. Seconds later, they were hauling Harry out of the car. Once he was clear of the wreckage, he shook himself free from the rescuers, and hobbled over the shattered glass to get to the side of the road.

A crowd had formed around the upended SUV, providing Harry with some cover to disappear into the car park of a nearby council estate. He kept walking, not caring where he was going as long as it was as far away as possible from the accident and his two minders who might be coming for him.

Harry reached the other side of the council estate when he heard the wail of a police siren. He began to walk faster, holding shut with one hand the crack at the back of his hospital gown. Being London, he attracted few stares from passers-by. Very few sights seemed odd in the city these days, even a half-naked man running for his life. But he had to get some clothes and money fast, if he wasn't to be picked up by a patrol car.

Harry was about to cross the road when he spotted a narrow cobbled street with modern terrace housing on either side. It was a cul-de-sac and he recognised it immediately. The little road was where Polecat lived. Of all the people to ask a favour in the middle of the night, but he had no choice. Harry owed Polecat five grand he'd borrowed to pay a bookie. He had no idea how Polecat would react, but he'd nothing to lose.

He rang the doorbell and then again. By the fourth ring, Polecat opened the bedroom window on the upper floor, wearing a sleeveless vest and a sleeping mask pushed up over his head.

‘Who the hell is that?' he shouted, while peering down into the darkness.

Harry stepped out from the shadows and said, ‘It's Harry.'

‘Harry who?'

‘Bridger.'

‘It's the middle of the bleeding night, Harry.'

‘Wanted to pay that money I owe you.'

‘I've been chasing you for a year, and you're coming now at two in the morning?'

‘Let me in?'

‘What the hell are you wearing?'

‘Stop mucking about; it's freezing out here.'

‘But you're stark-bollock naked.'

‘Don't exaggerate. Let me in.'

The lights of two neighbouring houses turned on.

‘Hold on, I'm coming down.'

Polecat showed Harry to the kitchen at the back. He was a tubby man with greasy black hair and oily skin that glistened. No one could ever stand next to him for too long because he stank; hence his name.

‘Fancy a cuppa?' asked Polecat.

‘Dying for one right now,' he replied, trying to keep his distance from him.

‘So what's this all about?' asked Polecat as he filled the kettle with water.

‘I'm in a spot of trouble.'

Polecat lit the gas and placed the kettle onto the blue flames.

‘The cops arrested me in hospital and I had to do a runner,' continued Harry.

‘I don't care what you've done as long as you've brought the dosh.'

‘Very public spirited of you.'

‘Well, where is it then?' asked Polecat holding out his hand, palm upwards and looking Harry in the eye.

‘The thing is, it's in my lock up.'

‘And I suppose you want me to drive you over there,' said Polecat, looking at a smile developing on Harry's face. ‘Why do I bother?' he huffed.

‘We're all winners this way. I can hardly get there wearing this, can I? And you get all your money back. A virtuous circle, as they say.'

‘It's going to be the most expensive cab ride you'll ever make.'

The drive to north London took almost an hour, and Harry insisted on keeping the window open the whole way. Polecat was dressed in his familiar Italia 90 track suit and wore his usual bling – a diamond stud in his left earlobe and a thick gold chain around his neck.

Polecat parked the car outside the lock up and watched Harry bend down on his hands and knees to lift up a drain cover.

‘It's not a pretty sight, Harry,' said Polecat, looking at Harry's exposed backside.

‘Well don't look,' responded Harry, reaching into the drain and pulling out a small plastic bag. He took out a key from the bag and opened the lock-up. Polecat let Harry go in first, shutting the doors behind them.

Harry switched on the strip lights and let Polecat look around. ‘Charalambous' old lady thought you had a lock up around here.'

‘Only Charlie knows about this place,' replied Harry, kneeling down on one knee and sliding back a duckboard on the floor. It covered a safe in the floor, which he opened. He kept his emergency money there in case he ever had to go on the run. The notes were neatly wrapped in denominations of a thousand.

‘Does Charlie owe you any money?' Harry asked.

‘Sure, but he always pays me back on time,' said Polecat. ‘Unlike some.'

‘How much does he owe at the moment?' asked Harry.

‘A Jeffrey Archer.'

Harry dipped his arm into the safe and pulled out the five thousand he owed Polecat, plus two more for the amount his friend owed.

Harry stood up and threw the wads of cash one by one to Polecat at the other side of the garage. ‘That's from me and Charlie – I owe him a good turn after you smashed up his car by mistake.'

Polecat didn't reply and stuffed the cash into his pockets.

‘I don't have time for chit-chat right now,' said Harry. ‘You better make sure you wipe Charlie's slate clean.'

‘You have my word, Harry.'

As soon as Polecat had gone, he bolted the garage doors and called Nelson from a mobile he kept permanently charged. He told him what had happened and to get over as soon as he could.

While he waited for Nelson, he stuffed the rest of the cash from the safe into the lining of a corduroy jacket he kept in the lock up. A few key stitches, and ten thousand dollars of banknotes were securely held in place. He then grabbed a ten-pound sledgehammer and smashed it against a brick wall at the end of the lock-up. He reached into the cavity and pulled out a Smith & Wesson wrapped in plastic.

Harry got changed into his own clothes he kept there for such emergencies and began to pack his knapsack. He tossed the gun inside, along with three passports, a pair of jeans, two shirts, underwear, razor, toothbrush, and passport pictures of Angela Linehan and Peter.

Then he made an overseas call to a friend called Jairo.