The Judas Sheep (26 page)

‘So who do you have to ring?’ she asked, disguising her disappointment.

‘Don’t worry, it can wait,’ I assured her, reaching across for her hand. I wouldn’t have said that three months ago.

The singers were good, but they performed mainly lesser-known works, not the blockbusters. Most people knew them, though, and applauded enthusiastically. The
tenor’s big finale was Nessun Dorma, a true blockbuster, and he did a good job, so we were all buzzing with excitement as they took their final bows.

It was tea and biscuits with the cast afterwards. They were smaller than they looked on the stage, and the men had bits of egg-yolk and God knows what else on the lapels of their tail-coats. I excused myself and rang Fearnside, from outside, leaning on one of the pillars that adorn the Civic Hall.

‘Charlie! Thank goodness you’re there,’ he enthused.

‘Sorry I didn’t ring earlier, I was at a concert.’

‘So your young Constable said. Didn’t know you went in for that sort of stuff.’

‘All in the line of duty, boss.’

‘Say no more. The good news is that your friend Darren has surfaced. You know, the chap you met at Delfshaven. At least, Customs and Excise think it’s him.’

‘Darren! Where?’

‘He’s on the ferry from Rotterdam to Hull, right at this moment. They say he crossed the Channel last Tuesday and worked his way up to Holland. He’s driving a black BMW; I’ll give you the number. How do you fancy renewing your acquaintance with him?’

‘I’d love to. Any ideas about how to play it?’

‘Not really. It would have been nice to try another tracking device, attached to his car, but as you know, that’s not admissable.’

Planting a bug in the drugs was OK, but if we’d attached one to his car it would have been an infringement of his civil liberties, and jeopardised our case. If the crooks had found the devices in their bags they’d have known that I was responsible, which would have jeopardised my breathing, but that was all right … It’s a funny old world.

‘You never recovered the drugs from the canal?’ I said.

‘No, I’m afraid not.’

‘So we don’t know if they found the bleepers?’

‘No.’

‘Somebody did for Kevin, and followed me, so it looks as if they’d sussed us.’

‘Perhaps. If you think it’s too risky, just say so.’

‘No, leave it with me. I can handle Darren. I’ll just play it by ear, see what he has to say for himself.’

‘Good man, Charlie. And good luck.’

‘Thanks. What time does his boat dock?’

I rejoined Annabelle and had a cup of coffee and ten biscuits, just in case I missed breakfast. As soon as politeness allowed I asked if she minded if we left. I told her that they were arresting someone on the ferry and wanted me to ID him in the morning. It was only a small fib.

An anticyclone was stationary over the county, so we were having sunny days and frosty nights, much to the delight of the garden centres. Everybody was stuffing their borders with bedding plants and finding them all dead next morning. The columns of steam from the three
power stations along the lower Aire valley towered into the sky like nuclear explosions, glowing pink and gold in the morning sun. I wondered if observers of the real thing were ever struck by their beauty. The M62 was deserted, so I cruised at about ninety-five all the way without difficulty.

The ferry docked at eight a.m., and Mother – the DS from the Drug Squad – was waiting for me. She repeated what Fearnside had said, adding that it looked as if two teenage girls – one black, one white – were carrying the drugs.

‘Are you going to lift the girls?’ I asked.

‘Yes, we’d like to. There’s a limit to how much we can allow to go through.’

‘And what about Darren?’

‘He’s probably not carrying, so he’s all yours.’

‘OK, so get me up that gangplank the second they touch dry land. I’ll pretend I’ve done the crossing with them, see what he has to say.’

The smell of new paint was still there. As soon as the door in the side of the ship opened we stepped across and pushed our way through the throng of pasty-faced travellers anxious to disembark. They staggered under the load of cheap booze, some in bags slung across their shoulders, a lot carried in internal belly-tanks. I was clutching one of the duty-free carriers I’d acquired on my first visit, stuffed with a couple of towels. The ship’s police were expecting us and held the crush back so we could get through.

Mother knew her way around, for which I was grateful. She took me along a corridor and through a little door that led to an iron staircase down to the car deck. Most drivers were in their seats, waiting for the big doors to release them back on to home soil. A few impatient ones started their engines, while the seasoned travellers stood around, stretching their legs.

‘He’s in a BMW, third row, about six cars from the front,’ she told me, pointing. We were towards the back of the phalanx of vehicles, looking over their roofs.

‘OK, I’ll go introduce myself, ruin his day. Thanks for your help, we’ll let you know what happens.’

‘Good luck.’

That was the second time someone had wished me good luck. Did they know something I didn’t? I threaded my way along the lines of vehicles, keeping in his blind spots in case he glanced in the mirrors. They were doing well – it was a much better car than the Sierra, and almost certainly the one that had chased me from Hull to Leeds. It was Darren all right.

I slipped down the left-hand side of the BMW and yanked the passenger door open. He jerked round with surprise and his jaw dropped.

‘Morning, Darren, old son. Any chance of a lift?’ I asked, flopping into the seat alongside him.

‘F-f-fuckinell, Charlie! You n-nearly gave me a ’eart attack. What are you doing here?’

‘Same as you, I imagine. Life goes on, for some of us.’ He was glancing from side to side, scared that my
presence might be giving him away. ‘Calm down,’ I told him. ‘Two men in a car is quite natural. It’s you looking like Jesse James at a lynching that’ll attract attention.’

‘Yeah, well, you scared me. You’re not carrying, are you, in that?’ He pointed down at the bag between my feet.

‘Of course I am. They don’t check duty-free carriers. They’re looking for stupid bags with false bottoms, hanging over the shoulders of amateurs. I hope the two girls – coffee and cream – weren’t yours.’

He looked shocked. ‘Why?’ he blurted. ‘What’s happened to them?’

‘The ship’s filth collared them, just as we docked. I had them eyeballed as your likely carriers before we’d left Rotterdam. Looks as if I was right again. You’re working for a bunch of jerks, Darren, believe me.’

‘Shit!’ He lolled back against the head restraint, staring at the roof of the car.

The big doors were opening, the light outside making me blink. ‘Looks like you’re having a bad day,’ I said. ‘Then there’s the matter of the five hundred quid you owe me. I want my money, Darren. Like now!’

‘No chance,’ he boasted defiantly.

I opened the glove box of the BMW and saw his portable phone, so I pulled it out and pressed the buttons until a number came up on display. I started to write it on the back of my hand.

‘’Ere, what are you doing?’ he demanded, making a grab for the instrument.

I yanked it out of his reach. ‘Just writing down your stored numbers.’

‘You can’t do that!’ He came at me, determined to reclaim his telephone.

Engines were starting all around us. I grabbed his lapels and lifted him off me, forcing him back against his door and scraping my shin on the handbrake. ‘Or else what?’ I hissed at him through gritted teeth. My shin was hurting like hell. ‘What will you do? Tie me to the bed and set fire to it, like you did with Kevin?’ His lips were turning blue. ‘Go back and tell your masters this, Darren. Tell them that if I don’t get my money they’ll start something that’ll make Desert Storm look like afternoon tea in a convent. Understood?’

Jesus, where do I get it from? I was glad Annabelle couldn’t see me playing the tough guy – she’d probably wet herself laughing.

I let go of him and he flopped into his seat, gasping for breath and rubbing his throat. There were only two numbers stored, but I wrote them both down. The driver alongside was staring at me, his face a white mask. I winked at him and the car behind blew its horn. A big gap had appeared in front of us.

‘You’re holding everybody up,’ I said.

Darren started the engine and we trundled down the ramp and on to solid ground. ‘Stop in the car park,’ I ordered.

When he stopped I asked: ‘So whose are these numbers?’

‘They’re just phones. Portables. They won’t help you.’

‘So who owns them?’

‘Nobody.’

‘Listen, Darren. I liked Kevin. I’ve half a mind to beat the shit out of you for what you and your friends did to him. Who do these phones belong to?’

He looked in pain, as if thinking hard thrust a dagger into his brain. ‘Look,’ he began, we’d like to pay you. It’s just that … we don’t have the readies. We’ve plenty of other stuff, like cigarettes, but the cash flow’s not too good, if you see what I mean. Fact is, we’ve a big job coming off – and boy, do I mean big – middle of next week, and we need all the cash we can raise. There’ll be no problem paying you after that. After that, we’ll be rich.’ The thought of it generated the beginnings of a smile.

Now it was my time to do some thinking. The word cigarettes had fired a circuit in my brain, like pushing one of those F buttons on the computer keyboard. Things were happening that I couldn’t understand.

‘I see,’ I said. After a few moments I went on: ‘If it helped, I might be willing to be paid in fags.’

‘It’d be a big help, Charlie. We’re not trying to do you – you’re a good courier. The best. It’s just that, like I said, we’re short of the readies.’

I nodded, as if I fully understood their predicament. Small firms were going bust all over the country for exactly the same reason. I practised my mental arithmetic. Five hundred pounds, at, say, a pound for
twenty, would be five hundred packets of twenty. I think. Or fifty cartons of two hundred. It sounded about right.

‘I’ll take fifty cartons,’ I said. ‘I’ll give you my number, so you can let me know about deliveries.’

Darren was a lot happier now. ‘Cheers, Charlie. I knew we could sort it out.’

‘How many fags do you have?’ I asked casually, as I wrote the number for my portable on the back of a
pay-and
-display ticket I found in the door pocket.

He grinned, like he’d fallen from a hotel window and landed on Raquel Welch. ‘Oh, only about five million,’ he bragged.

Bingo! it was them. The same bastards who’d hijacked the lorry. And one of whom had strangled two women. Boy, was I going to make Trevor Peacock’s day. I couldn’t trust them, though. Paying me a few fags would be low priority for them, and like the saying goes, honour among thieves is thinner than a solicitor’s smile. I needed some bait, and a decent hook.

‘You said you’d be rich in a couple of weeks.’

‘Yeah.’

‘In that case, I might have a little proposition for you and your friends that’d make you even richer. I’d do it myself but, same as you, I’ve the old cash-flow problems.’

Darren looked interested. ‘I’ll put it to them, if you want.’

‘Great. So listen to this. About two months ago, a Russian trawler was seized up in the North-East,
loaded to the gunnels with pot, horse and coke. You might remember it.’

‘Yeah. Did the world of good to the prices.’

‘That’s right. What the Customs don’t realise is that there’s another trawler going in and out of West Hartlepool every week with a million quid’s worth of rock – crack cocaine – sealed in its hold. The captain doesn’t know what to do with it because this end of the chain are all in jail. I’ve been offered it for two hundred thousand, which I’m a little short of. Two hundred thousand short of, to be exact. I reckon a firm offer of, say, a hundred grand might get it. Tell your friends that.’

He looked quite eager. ‘Yeah. Yeah. I will do. Thanks, Charlie.’

The full story was beginning to unfold in my mind. ‘It’s from Russia,’ I improvised. ‘The Communists had a plan to release it in the West, to undermine our society. When they fell it was left in store for a while, at the KGB Headquarters. The KGB agents were all sacked, so they took the drugs as redundancy payments. Unofficially, of course. Nobody knew about them, so it didn’t matter. Now they’re finding their way on to the black market. One hundred per cent clinically pure, and there’s plenty more where this came from.’

‘Phew,’ said Darren, obviously impressed. Now he, too, had a story to go home and tell someone.

I watched him drive away, careful that he didn’t see my Vauxhall, and went round to the local nick to tell
Mother the full story. They gave me breakfast in their canteen, but I’d have preferred to have eaten in the Jolly Burger. I could afford it for once – I was on expenses.

This was one appointment that I had to keep, so I forewarned Annabelle that I might have to dash off at a moment’s notice. She didn’t mind. She’d often said that it wasn’t necessary for us to go somewhere every time we met, so we stayed in and enjoyed each other’s company. We had a small disagreement about Nigel. Annabelle said I shouldn’t tease him; teasing was the thin end of bullying. I didn’t agree, but she gave me something to think about, and it hurt.

As it happened, I was having a night at home when Darren rang. I’d tidied the kitchen and was just about to start on the bathroom, so the warbling of the portable came as a relief.

‘It’s Darren,’ he told me. ‘Be at Burtonwood services, westbound, in an hour. What will you be driving?’

Burtonwood was at the far side of Manchester. ‘I can’t be there in an hour. I’m in the Merlin Couriers van, coming up the Ml. Make it two hours.’

There was a silence. I listened hard, but he had his hand over the mouthpiece.

‘Hour and an ’alf,’ he said, when he came back on.

‘It’ll be a rush for me. I might be late.’

‘Call it ’alf-eleven, no later.’

‘OK, half-past eleven. I’ll be there.’ The fish were biting, and it felt like a big one.