Undercover (21 page)

‘All right, what we'll be at is absolutely deserved by Norm in the court of natural justice, and it's all backed up with facts supplied to us by Tom and the van, what could be referred to with total accuracies as an indictment. I could still not feel right about it, though. In them circumstances – a religious event via Jamie's daughter – it wouldn't seem appropriate to ask him to do this necessary ferrying at a date so close to the church event. Finger irons might be in use and other metal. Do you see what I mean when I say inappropriate? This is a taste matter. It would be wrong. It would be crude. It would be disrespecting a family occasion – his family, and also a holy occasion. I would not feel correct if I demanded Jamie get this Wheels job done, regardless of his little girl acting a whore who gives it up when inspired. And this being so, I'm going to ask Tom here to take that role.'

Leo had another smile. It contained wryness. Tom had noticed a while ago that Leo possessed several types of smile and certainly knew when to use each of them. It amounted to an outright flair with him, a sort of RADA – trained aptitude. He said: ‘That sounds as if I'm asking Tom to take the Mary Magdalene role. No.'

Tom had a chuckle at this, and after a moment Empathy and Ivor did, too.

‘But do the
Wheels
role for me, Tom, would you?' Leo said. ‘This has a certain tidiness about it, because, of course, it's on account of your terrific work in this very van that we are on to Rice and Scray in a confirmed and clear way, though work at a different location, obviously – watching the dealer's property, noting the arrival and departure of Norm.'

‘Iconic,' Ivor said, sucking up late, but possibly not
too
late.

‘What? Leo said.

‘The van,' Ivor said.

‘Well, yes, it could be referred to with such a word, I suppose,' Leo replied. ‘It's not for me to describe it like that, because I had a part in the design.'

‘Definitely iconic,' Ivor said.

Tom considered that a shag within the marriage bonds, although unusually situated, in no way damaged the vehicle's iconic status.

Leo said: ‘When this meeting's over, I'll take you to have a look at Norm's place, Tom, so you'll be familiar with the route and the surroundings, and especially the best leave-the-scene roads.'

‘Fine,' Tom said. ‘But perhaps now is the occasion for a little van-based refreshment – to clinch the all round impression we have of its magnificent character – yes, its pure, iconic nature?' He stood and stepped towards the flask rack.

‘The Thermoses?' Leo said in an excited whisper, vivid anticipation aglow in his economical face.

‘What else?' Tom replied.

‘This is wonderful,' Leo said.

Tom took the flasks down and set them on the van floor, more or less where he'd lain when getting interim on-topped by Iris. He set one of the extra beakers alongside them as well as the teaspoon and sweeteners. ‘So, what will it be?' he asked them.

‘Brilliant,' Leo said. ‘This gives a striking glimpse of the van's capabilities.'

‘I think you should have first choice, Leo, as host,' Abidan said.

‘The soup is oxtail,' Tom said.

‘Soup, then,' Leo replied.

Tom put some into a spare beaker for him.

‘Tea for me,' Empathy said. ‘One sweetener.'

Tom poured, stirred and handed him the cup-lid. There was a community character to the occasion now, and Tom felt pleased to seem part of it.

‘If there's soup left I'll have that, please,' Ivor said. This would be another move to restore good vibes with Leo – the shared taste for oxtail, possibly showing a genes similarity.

Tom poured again and gave him the soup. Tom himself took coffee with two sweeteners.

‘This is ideal,' Leo said. ‘It's hardly like work at all, more a happy, relaxed, social get-together.'

‘Yes, indeed,' Tom replied.

Leo said: ‘There
is
work, of course – arranging plans for possible removal of that shite, Scray, and, in any case, for smashing some badly delayed regret into Norm. But the joy of the situation and circumstances takes away the drudgery of it.' A kind of intimate cosiness existed inside the van and phrases like ‘poxy louse', ‘that shite, Scray', and ‘smashing some badly delayed regret into Norm' seemed to float for several moments around them, affectionately cosseting Tom's ears, and, presumably, the ears of the others.

He said: ‘If anyone wants to switch for a refill, there's the other spare beaker.'

‘This soup will be enough for me,' Leo said.

‘Ditto,' Ivor said.

Leo said: ‘I like to think of Tom, secure and patient in the van, constantly checking the outer scene via the A-holes, possibly sipping a soup or coffee, even while deep into vigilance. And then, suddenly, after nine hours, to his grand satisfaction, here comes that fucking swindler, Norm Rice, pulling or pushing a case trolley, like someone at the airport off to Ibiza. Tom's wait has been
so
justified. I'd like you to recall what I said in my second e.g. about Jamie – if he gets a tip it's going to be a tip you can bet your castle on. Jamie gave us the dealer's particulars, name, address, specialities. And so Tom, in the van, can place himself at the right point, unobserved but observing. Did you ever think during this trip to and from that you might have a tail, Tom?'

There'd been the Astra. But that was on a route Tom shouldn't have been using at all – the road home: to remain unmentioned. And, in any case, it definitely disappeared after the stop at the bike shop. The Astra had gone its own way, unconcerned with the van, only on the same road for a while by fluke. ‘Nothing, Leo,' Tom said.

‘You were keeping an eye?' Leo replied.

‘Constantly,' Tom said.

‘I knew you would,' Leo said. ‘Basic. Elementary. This van has a wonderful ordinariness about it, and yet it isn't ordinary at all.'

‘Right,' Tom said.

‘Maybe Norman's case on wheels held cash funds when he went in, to make a purchase; then the materials on the way out,' Empathy said. ‘This is an image of how the market functions in a free society. A paradigm. Money to begin with. This money handed over. And in exchange come goods.'

‘You must of been doing an Open University Master's degree in Business Studies on the quiet,' Leo replied. ‘What I'm after now is a tableau.'

‘Certainly,' Ivor said.

‘I think the case might have been empty on the way in,' Tom said. ‘Not that it's material, I suppose.' It was material in helping prove Tom had truly been there and observant.

‘A tableau in the sense of considering the whole stack and spread of possibilities,' Leo said.

‘This has ever been your style, Leo,' Ivor said. ‘Overarching.'

‘The personnel in this tableau being Scray, Norm and us,' Leo said.

‘Exactly,' Ivor said.

‘Why the fuck do you answer, “Exactly,”? How do you know what I'm going to say?' Leo asked.

‘I meant “exactly” in general, Leo,' Ivor said. ‘Sort of globally.'

‘I'm what's referred to as “pragmatic”,' Leo replied.

‘No gainsaying that,' Ivor said.

‘Scray: a high-grade operator with a collection of customers that I – we – want and intend getting,' Leo said. ‘Now, maybe them customers got faith in Justin Scray as to quality of the product, price and security. Important factors. This is a valuable supplier-client relationship.'

‘Very,' Ivor said.

‘Therefore, we don't necessarily want Justin killed, regardless of how much the fucker has earned it.'

‘Which he undoubtedly has,' Ivor said.

‘We want him
with
us, not wiped out and with nobody. If he's with us he brings that crowd of devoted, disposable-incomed punters with him. They've got not just a habit but a habit of dealing with Scray. OK, the false bastard is as false as false will ever be, but it's only us who think he's a false bastard,
know
he's a false and stealthy bastard, because it's to us that he's the false bastard. His customers don't see it the same.
They
regard him as a true, reliable, honest gent who comes up regular with a packet of their delights every week or so. They long to stick with him. He's their beloved, safe, accommodating Mr Snort, or the Marquis of Mainline.'

‘I love it,' Ivor said, giggling. ‘“Mr Snort!” “The Marquis of Mainline!” Maybe “The High-Commissioner of H”.'

‘We need him,' Leo said. ‘What we don't need is daft rage, a stupid search for vengeance.'

‘Yes, we need the bastard,' Ivor said.

‘This is why I spoke of a tableau,' Leo said.

‘Of course,' Ivor said.

‘In this tableau we get to Norm Rice as openers.'

‘The poxy louse!' Ivor declared.

‘We gives him some pain and possible breakages, but not on an absolutely immense scale which might lead to medical and police poking about. Norm wouldn't want that; it would be like an intrusion on his privacy.
We
wouldn't want it, either, obviously. I'd like it so he can manage, say, the splints and poultices by himself, or through dear ones – no hospitalization and all the snags that could bring for the firm, such as questions re how he got in that state, whatever it might be. People outside the trade are not going to understand that Justin and Norm were asking for it by their obnoxious behaviour.

‘Norm's not our main objective, clearly. His injuries will be sort of messengers, and they are aimed at his master and scabby honcho, Justin Scray. And what do these messengers tell him, then? They tell him, first, we know what the fuckers are up to, owing to our own confidential methods, the chief of them methods being a tastefully customized van. Two, we don't like it. Three, we're not going to put up with it. Four, this is what a churl in their private outfit gets after he's been fully observed doing a deal to feed this secret string of punters; and if a nobody in his organization gets this, Scray better start thinking what might come to him, such as not just a bit of rough-house but something that suits his higher rank, for instance, a volley in the tit region.

‘My reckoning is he'll want to talk terms with us then, the terms being he stops fucking about with a select list but brings them to where the people on that list ought to be, that is, with us. Then, he can come back to his position in this firm and use his talents as they ought to be used, not for a firm within the firm, but for the firm.'

‘Right,' Ivor said.

‘This is why I said a tableau,' Leo replied.

‘And that's what it is, a tableau,' Ivor said.

‘This is why I said “pragmatic”,' Leo replied. ‘I look at the situation and, despite hatred and contempt for what they're doing, I put all that aside and ask myself: what's best for the firm? I ask it in a cool, constructive way. And what's best for the firm is Scray, unslaughtered at this stage – yes, at this stage – Justin Scray working with us, and his special battalion of big-spend customers added to our own and given a very hearty welcome.'

‘Right,' Ivor said. ‘That's definitely pragmatic.'

‘I ask myself, what's business about?' Leo said.

‘This is the question,' Ivor said.

‘Business is about accruing,' Leo replied.

‘Ah,' Ivor said.

‘Accruing – i.e., building up – income and capital, and, as one of the ways to this, accruing customers. Justin would bring a nice sheaf of them with him, customers who should of been ours, anyway, in the first place, the unscrupulous prick. But you probably think, Ivor – how can this sod get brought back fully into the firm at number three, going ahead of such as yourself, even though he been behaving in that dirty fashion?' Leo said.

‘No, no, not at all,' Ivor said.

‘Like, as if Scray advises himself as part of his career plan, “Go and betray the management and get promoted for it, Justin,”' Leo said.

‘You're the one who has to make decisions and policy about personnel, Leo. Everyone accepts that,' Ivor replied.

‘Don't be so fucking understanding and feeble,' Leo said. ‘It's why you get walked over.' Leo stood, opened the commode lid and produced a blue covered ring binder from the basin. He re-closed the commode and sat down again. He opened the ring binder. It contained what looked like a few lined sheets of paper. ‘Jamie has done some research and come up with a list of people using Justin Scray and Norm as their suppliers,' he said. ‘Jamie don't claim this to be complete, but he offers it as a guide to the kind of customers intercepted by them two. The names don't matter. It's the probable wage level, the earnings status that's important, you'll agree. We got to act, no question.'

He looked down at the top sheet in the binder and began to nod as he counted: ‘One, two, three four, five Chamber of Commerce people; two airline pilots; three RAF pilots, including a woman; two head teachers; three regular soldiers above the rank of major; likewise, two naval officers above the rank of lieutenant commander.' He turned the page. ‘Seven university lecturers and professors; two medical consultants and five doctors; four boardroom industrialists; two newspaper executives; four master plumbers; three software and IT specialists; three beauty parlour owners; two mastiff breeders; one high sheriff; two boutique proprietors; one stand-up comedian who gets on TV.' He closed the binder. ‘This will give you some notion of the scale of greed and disloyalty we're up against.'

‘Appalling,' Ivor said. ‘This is conspiracy – no other word will do.'

‘We've been dozy and careless,' Leo replied.

‘You shouldn't sink into self-blame,' Ivor said.

‘I blame all of us,' Leo said. ‘There's a holy duty to put things right. That's why it's so necessary to give Norm a bit of heavy bruising and so on at this junction.'