Undercover (20 page)

Leo said: ‘Emily being at home, it's more . . . well . . . more private to talk here. The van's our conference chamber for today. And she wouldn't want us clogging up one of the rooms, would she? Anyway, I love this vehicle. Such a grand piece of planning.'

‘Absolutely,' Abidan said. ‘I've never seen it before.'

‘Not many have,' Leo Young said. ‘It's fairly new. Tom's been on a little excursion for me in her, utilizing the A junction point observation windows. And she was all right, was she, Tom? Behaved herself fine? Made your task so much easier?'

‘Fine,' Tom said. ‘A doddle.'

‘How long did it take – the wait?' Leo asked.

‘Nine hours, about,' Tom said.

‘So the supplies and the commode were convenient?' Leo said. He pointed out the rack of Thermos flasks to Abidan and Wolsey.

‘True,' Tom said. ‘Indispensable.'

‘Three flasks – tea, coffee, soup,' Leo said. ‘You filled up in advance, did you, Tom? A good variety of hot standbys. These build and sustain morale. Logistics.'

‘Right,' Tom said.

‘This van makes you independent, that's the beauty of it,' Leo said.

‘Right,' Tom said. He thought a time must come when Leo referred to the van as ‘iconic'.

‘What sort of excursion?' Wolsey said. ‘I didn't know work of that type was planned. Has it come up in previous discussion? Not that I remember.'

Leo gave a kind of smile. Tom regarded it as unquestionably a smile, Leo's lips drawn quite a way back over his cared-for teeth. His miniature face gleamed, radiating lavish intolerance. On a bigger spread of complexion this might have seemed less concentrated, but Leo could offer only a quite skimpy area, so his expression had a burning, very focused intensity. Maybe Leo felt ratty with Wolsey for arriving late. ‘Think around a mo for fuck's sake, would you, Ivor, before spouting please?' Leo replied.

‘Excuse me, Leo, but think around in which respect?' Wolsey said.

Leo sat right back. He stretched out his arms along each of the rests and gripped the curled ends. Yes, ‘dignity' was the word, or even ‘grandeur'. Now he reminded Tom of a monarch in one of those TV costume plays, growing regal and severe with followers. ‘In respect of priorities,' Leo said.

‘Well, yes, but there's quite a number of
them
,' Wolsey said. ‘I'm not clear which you have in mind, Leo.'

‘Is that so?' Leo said. ‘Is that so? You're “not clear”. A pity.' The smile had gone, but he spoke with perfect, false gentleness. ‘You heard of Justin-fucking-Scray at all, Ivor? Or fucking Claud Norman Rice? This was an executive decision. I didn't need a company vote. A firm can't be run proper if the head of it got to consult at every stage.'

‘Tom's been handling a project on those two?' Wolsey asked. He sounded shocked, maybe amazed to hear that someone new to the firm drew such a key assignment; shocked, amazed and bypassed.

‘Why shouldn't he?' Leo said.

Ivor thought about that and then obviously took account of Leo's dark temper and wanted to back down. He raised both his hands for a moment, like
kamarade
. ‘No reason, absolutely no reason,' he replied. ‘Just a surprise, Leo. As I said, I didn't know any operations were under way, that's all.'

‘What – you thought I'd just let them two, Scray, Rice, suck the business dry in their brazen way, did you, Ivor? I'm supposed to lie back and enjoy getting shafted, am I? You in favour of them two, then? You got a sweet salary linkage there, perhaps?'

Most likely, Leo saw betrayal everywhere. At Hilston, course members had been warned top dogs of a firm could get like that: ‘the Robespierre syndrome', as it was called after the French revolutionary politician who ran what was known as ‘the Reign of Terror' but who eventually got head-chopped himself. This, rather than Ivor's lateness, might explain Leo's sudden, wild rage. But, no, Leo didn't see betrayal
everywhere
, did he? For example, not betrayal by Tom Parry. The reverse. Apparently the reverse. Tom got trusted to carry out crucial, delicate reconnaissance solo in Leo's adored van. Yet this was Tom Mallen, though for the time being, Tom Parry, whose designated and only objective was in fact to betray and nail Leo. Naturally, that wasn't how it would be officially described by those running him. They'd say ‘to gather possible evidence against Leo Percival Young by certain approved, confidential, continuously supervised procedures'.

Leo didn't speak again for a while. The van's back doors remained open. The horses moved about in their stalls, whinnying occasionally and snorting. These were the only sounds in the stables building. Tom felt there wouldn't have been many business meetings around Britain held in such conditions – a van as boardroom with background animals. He thought Leo might be waiting for his anger to fade. Maybe he realized the outburst against Ivor, and the accusation of paid-for treachery, had been hysterical.

Then, Leo leaned forward, as though to make sure the message came across OK, but stayed securely with just the four of them. ‘What we got, via the van and Tom, is a picture of Norm Rice rolling up in his proud, red Lexus at a known wholesaler's property and taking away definite freight for subsequent undisclosed dealing with punters who should of been ours, should of been the firm's.
This
fucking firm's. Not some splinter outfit's.' Passionately, he struck the right arm of the commode with two blows from the side of his fist. They obviously signified rage, but perhaps also, resolve.

He said: ‘Tom watched Rice as errand boy for Scray, pushing a case on castors for the bulk. What we have here is a kind of massive theft. They're stealing our best customers, that is, who
would
of been our best customers, but who got intercepted, who got hijacked, by that gifted turd, Scray. It's a prime disgrace.'

Tom reckoned indignation seemed to suit extremely well someone in such excellent three-piece, dark worsted tailoring, and the fine black lace-ups. Tom had noticed before that fury from a man in a buttoned-up waistcoat had exceptional edge, even someone short.

‘Nine hours!' Abidan said. ‘That's some tour of duty!'

‘This is the beauty of the van,' Leo said, a smile back, but more or less authentic now. ‘It can stand there, like, in total innocence, its harmless identity, or
alleged
identity, present in pretty lettering for all to read – its connection with healthy, familiar settings, such as back gardens, obvious. And, inside, the operative is utterly comfortable, nourished, untroubled by lower bodily pressures, and capable of multi-scrutinizing via the A-windows.'

‘Great,' Abidan said.

And Tom could more or less hear their minds whirring – Abidan's and Wolsey's – asking themselves, could a van wait there that long, unbothered by wardens or the police; unnoticed from his window by someone super-alert and nervous because he's about to do an illegal, highly murky deal with a courier who's perilously deep into a conspiracy against that baron of barons, Leo Percival Young? And they might think, too, that the courier himself would be very aware of risk and looking out for suspect vehicles doing crafty surveillance. The pretty lettering
was
pretty and very professionally done, but that didn't mean it got swallowed.

Leo said: ‘This kind of meeting – a planning meeting – well, obviously I'd usually invite Justin Scray. But you won't be surprised by his absence. Although he's number three in our company and, in some ways, a valued high-flier with several undoubted flairs, it's impossible for him to be one of us today in this unusual van venue. Why? Because he's the very object of this meeting, isn't he? He is our topic. If he was here, he wouldn't be present to discuss but to be discussed, and not in a friendly style, either. All right, this time it was Norm who actually done the transacting re new supplies of the commodities, but who's behind Norm? Who
sent
dear, two-timing Norm? I've already give you the answer to that one, though I'm sure you could of seen it for yourselves. This kind of filthy behaviour by Scray is not so very new news, is it? We've all known about it. Or, we all had an idea it was happening. The accounts showed something rotten going on. But proof? That we was short of, until this brill expedition by Tom and the van. I don't act without proof.'

‘You're well known for such carefulness, Leo, for such thoroughness. Ivor will confirm that, I'm sure,' Abidan said. He was giving him a chance to get back into harmony with Leo. Empathy Abidan liked relationships to be peaceful and healthy. He could have been a Foreign Office diplomat, even an ambassador, if his career hadn't happened to turn in this different direction owing to an acute, businesslike interest in the substances.

Ivor rushed to accept the help. ‘Definitely,' he said. ‘Talking to people from other outfits, I often hear them say how strict and uncompromising Leo is about the need for good evidence before, say, a full removal or punishment slapping. It's not always like that in their own firms, and they feel some shame.'

‘Which people from other outfits do you talk to?' Leo said. ‘What you talking to them
for
, Ivor? What you discussing me for? I don't think I want the company's name or my name discussed by all sorts.'

‘Not all sorts, Leo,' Ivor said. ‘One or two.'

‘Even so,' Leo replied.

‘Ivor would be very discreet, I'm sure of that,' Abidan said.

‘What do
you
think, Tom?' Leo said.

‘It's the kind of informal, possibly useful contact that needs a lot of caution,' Tom said. ‘Things can be learned from such conversations, quite possibly valuable insights into other firms, but there's also the danger of revealing too much about
our
firm.' He gave the ‘
our
firm' hefty emphasis, so as to stress his membership and constancy.

‘Exactly,' Leo said. ‘Caution. What I'd like to know is how my name came into things at all.'

‘It was in a very favourable way,' Ivor replied. ‘Positive, absolutely.'

‘In commerce, this kind of commerce, there isn't no favourable way of talking about another firm's chief. No positive way. If his name is mentioned it's because some sod is thinking: how do I push, kick and elbow that one off of his top spot and grab his rich domain?'

‘Favourable and positive because they admire how you get a true case together before someone is made the subject of extreme treatment,' Ivor said. ‘It's considered sort of rare and therefore refreshing.'

‘There's no admiring, either, in this trade. They're feeding you them little bits of praise to smooth and lull, so you'll go on talking about me and the firm, and they'll be listening for things you won't even know you're saying, but they'll be filleting your words for info, quite often words you'd imagine were totally OK and even dull, but they'll sniff at them, for their own reasons. It's how questioning works – known as interrogation, of course. They'll let you chatter away, like a woman on a bus, and they'll fix on some tiny point you might not of noticed at all speaking, but they will tie it to other tiny points and this will help them get the entire picture. And you'll be wondering how they done it, even though it was you who gave them the stuff.'

‘I know Ivor will be more cautious from now on,' Empathy said.

‘“Cautious” – that's Tom's word, and it's a good one,' Leo replied. ‘There's a saying about “throwing caution to the wind”. At school, I remember we had to read a story where “he threw caution to the wind” on account of an adventure. Well, the wind don't need that caution, so it shouldn't be thrown to it. I'd like you both to discuss with Tom later the many aspects of cautiousness that might be required. He'll show you how these work, how to get the best out of them.'

Ivor Wolsey said: ‘It will be a privilege to accept advice from—'

‘You'll notice there's someone else, beside Justin Scray, not present at this conference, who would normally be here,' Leo replied. ‘No, I don't mean Norm Rice. He's always only been a dogsbody, a lackey. He don't come in on policy discussions. Policy decisions tell him what he got to do. That's his only connection with policy. So, not Norm Rice, but Jamie Meldon-Luce. Nobody could call Jamie a dogsbody or a lackey. Skills. Ample skills, a bucketful. He supplies them, e.g., he sees what's what in an accounts sheet; second e.g., he has sources who bring quality insights; and third e.g., he's a wonderful Wheels, delicate in his touch, yet also familiar with the flat-on-the-floor-almost-through-to-the-road accelerator. And it's in that respect, the Wheels respect, that he would usually of been at a meeting such as this, because, obviously, something's got to be done about Norm Rice and Scray, which will need high-grade driving. The place where this action is to happen I haven't completely decided yet, but it's definitely going to require proper transport to carry the scold team and bring them away, possibly stained or even injured.

‘However, the point about Jamie is at present he's got a daughter doing Mary Magdalene in a church play and he's going to be there to see it, got to be there to see it. Naturally. She's eight. This is support for her from Dad and Mum. What are people going to think of them if they don't turn up to watch and join in the final clapping, if clapping is allowed in a church? For reasons I might explain later, the correction we have in mind for, say, Claud Norman Rice, first, the poxy louse, has to be done on a certain, specific day – the day of the church play with Carol Jane Letitia doing Mary Magdalene, as a matter of fact. But even if that was not so, I wouldn't want Jamie driving on this one. Forgive me, but I wouldn't. Maybe it's a weakness. How I see it is, I couldn't really ask someone whose daughter's going to be, or has been, taking a top level role in a church play – no, I can't ask him to carry out an operation where someone is going to get beaten half to death, at least half, owing to foul behaviour in a business context.