Undercover (3 page)

D.H.:
‘The three? You said three left the Volvo.'

A: ‘Abidan, me, Tom Parry, as we knew him then. Tom Mallen, actually. Sergeant Tom Mallen. That soon comes out, after his death. Jamie Meldon-Luce stays with the car for our getaway.'

D.H.:
‘You walk together but then seem to break up.'

A:
‘Like that, yes. Abidan directs. He would go towards Guild Square. Tom had been allocated the Rinton shopping mall. I get the three arcade.: Morton's, Victoria, New.'

D.H.:
‘The thinking is that Scray will be out in one of these locations dealing, is it?'

A: ‘We don't know exactly where. We do know he works at around this time – nine p.m. to eleven – and generally these are his stations. Whoever finds him is to mobile the others. He isn't somebody to take on one-to-one, because he wouldn't be just one.'

A:
‘He'd have protection with him. Scray would know Leo was peeved. And he'd also know that when Leo was peeved, Leo was likely to do something to deal with whatever's peeving hi.: in this case, Justin P. Scray and his cherished, confidential list. Jamie would move the Volvo up towards Mitre Park. He couldn't stay at the bus stop. It would get him noticed.'

D.H.:
‘It did.'

A:
‘Cars parked in the dark around the Mitre are very usual. It's one of those intimacy venues – cheaper than a hotel room. Mostly hetero, but not entirely. More charming than a public Gents.'

D.H.:
‘That's your exit point?'

A:
‘Pre-agreed. Job done, we run to it.'

D.H.:
‘But the job wasn't done, was it?'

A:
‘You could say that. But we run to the Volvo, anyway. Job done or not done. There's a switch car at Pallindon Lane, a Ford, also stolen, of course. We have to get there and swap vehicles, leaving the Volvo. The front's in a mess after the incident, and noticeable.'

D.H.:
‘But, Ivor, we've galloped ahead a bit. Go back to quitting the Volvo at the bus stop. The three of you walk up Monthermer and then split. Your personal duty to trawl the arcades.'

A:
‘Well, you know the scene I expect. There's the Alfonso wine bar in Victoria. A deli and restaurant –
Au-Dessus
. And a coffee shop in the New. Half of Morton's is shut off after six p.m., but a One-Stop on the corner at the arcade entrance is open till eleven. Scray would meet people in any one of these berths – his personal-list people, mainly. Or that's what Empathy reckons, and he gets good intelligence. Scray liked, likes,
Au-Dessus
best of the lot, apparently. He can snack with a client, clients, in the restaurant. It makes things sort of civilized, but the French name gives a touch of raciness, too. That's an interesting combination for Justin Scray's quality snorters – it's chiefly snorters, but some H.
    ‘Most of these places have big windows on to the arcade. Customers can look out on who's passing, on who's approaching. So, searching for someone is dodgy. The target might get a reception ready. I watched for one of Justin's toughs doing sentry outside the deli and the other locations. I'd be recognized, of course. All of them – Scray, plus his heavies – were still, in theory, part of our firm. But he'd been building his own little outfit – as I said, an outfit within the outfit. And Justin and his people could make a fair guess about why I was there. I reckoned the arcades assignment was the toughest of the three. I took that as a compliment from Empathy. He thought I could manage it.'

D.H.:
‘You're a marksman.'

A:
‘So are some other guys, though. But I saw no guards patrolling any of the nooks. I went into the deli and restaurant and did a quick eye-scan. He wasn't there, nor in the Alfonso. So, I was on my way to the One-Stop when my mobile rang and Empathy said he'd found Scray in Guild Square. Well, no, he didn't say that, but it's what he meant. He said only, “Where I am.” Best not to blurt too much on a mobile phone. You don't know who might be listening. Remember the Prince of Wales and Camilla. Think of all that newspaper hacking into celebs' voicemails.
    ‘Abidan hadn't moved against Scray yet. He wanted me and Tom – Tom Parry, as we thought of him then – to get over there, so we'd have enough firepower to take on Justin and his chums. I say as
we
thought of him, but I'm still not completely sure who knew by then he was not Tom Parry, not a member of the firm, but a planted cop. Obviously, Leo knew. That's why things had been organized like this. Who else? Anyway, Abidan's “where I am” was the coded order to join up with him. It sounded urgent, it sounded hairy, but it was in line with the original scheme. Empathy had foreseen this kind of climax. I felt almost relieved. I wouldn't have to work my way through the arcades.
    ‘We'd all pre-decided the quickest routes from our search areas to anywhere Justin Scray might be found. I ran out of the town end of the Victoria, across Lavender Street, into Charlton Road, about fifty metres along, then left into the Square. I'd been a bit worried that when I reached there I wouldn't be able to spot Empathy at once. I thought he'd be in a sort of . . . well, in a sort of hunting, stalking position – watchful, but trying not to be watched. It didn't turn out like that, though, not at all. He'd got himself into full view, what seemed deliberately into full view, standing in front of the
Bonjour
caff big window and made very obvious by its lights behind him.
    ‘When I arrived, he said we had to get out of there and back to the Volvo immediately. Scray had been in the Square with some of his people, trading, but had seen Empathy, although he'd tried to stay hidden at the end of a service lane. It was as though they'd been expecting an attack because of Scray's abuse of the firm. Abidan feared they would return with more of Scray's outfit – too many for us to take on, too many for us to protect ourselves against. Well, all this seemed to me panicky and woolly, but he was determined. There'd been another fiasco a bit like this, involving a lad called Norman Rice.
    ‘So, now I asked, “What about Tom?” He hadn't turned up in the Square yet. Of course, I know now he would never show up, but in the Square then, as Empathy spoke, I thought Tom must have had a longer distance to come in response to Abidan's call. He said it would be madness to wait. He would get on the mobile to cancel his order, tell Tom not to come to the Square, but to return to Mitre Park and Jamie direct, for a quick exit. Empathy seemed to make that call, but I realize now he might have been speaking to voicemail. All this still seemed unhinged to me, but Empathy was the boss, so when he started moving towards the park, I followed.'

D.H.:
‘The two of you ran to the Volvo rendezvous?'

A:
‘Yes.'

D.H.:
‘Jamie was there waiting?'

A:
‘Yes.

D.H.:
‘But he wasn't at the wheel for the accident or the rest of the getaway?'

A:
‘He wouldn't leave because only two of us had arrived. Tom was missing. Jamie's a sort of professional Wheels. One of their trade rules is you don't pull away until everyone has returned. In fact, it's a major rule, basic, core. Empathy screamed at him to get clear, but he wouldn't. Empathy was shouting, “He's not coming. He's not coming. Never.” He sounded so certain, as if he knew something about Tom. So, eventually, Jamie does the gentlemanly bit. That's how he could be. Someone who'd wear a cardigan like that – well, it's the kind of antique, noble behaviour natural for him, and he takes his daughter to Sunday School. That sort. He got out of the car, showed Empathy how to start it without keys, and announced he'd go back on foot and look for Tom between the mall and Guild Square. He said Abidan could take the Volvo if that seemed so important to him. This was calling him yellow without actually saying it. Like I mentioned, Jamie could be a gent. He has politeness built in. He said if he found Tom he'd mobile for a taxi and meet up with us at the firm.
    ‘Empathy started the Volvo. I had only a second to make up my mind which one I'd go with. I think I made a half-guess that when Empathy said Tom would never come, he spoke from info only he possessed – only he of the four of us, that is. Not including Leo, naturally. I had an idea Jamie's decision was a mistake – as useless and gallant as that step out into the storm by Captain Oates. I wonder if Oates had a cardie on under his other gear. I jumped into the passenger seat. We left.'

D.H.:
‘Abidan seemed to know Tom was not going to appear, did he?'

A:
‘I didn't see how he could. Not logically. But I felt it, sort of sensed it somehow. You know how it can be.'

D.H.:
‘Anyway, Abidan is not a Wheels, and so the disaster?'

A:
‘No, he's not a Wheels, and we were doing big speed.'

D.H.:
‘Leaving Jamie behind.'

A:
‘He chose that.'

D.H.:
‘Abidan didn't stop, but drove on to the change car you had parked ready at Pallindon Lane?'

A:
‘He was driving like a loony. Up on to the pavement, knocks into those three girls from behind on their way to some clubbing, then we're down on to the street again. It seemed to me the kind of . . . sort of, yes, contempt – not spoken, but real all the same from Jamie – this contempt had upset Empathy's balance. I was yelling at him to slow down. I wouldn't let him do the next leg, when we got to the replacement car.'

D.H.:
‘You drove the Ford?'

A:
‘I had to take over.'

D.H.:
‘Which makes you an accessory to double manslaughter – woman slaughter – and failing to stop after an accident. Plus stolen vehicles and maybe a few other charges. Even a tie-in to the death of Tom Parry.'

A:
‘Which is why I'm coughing the lot for you, isn't it? It wasn't me driving at the hit. And I don't want to be fixed up with the Parry death. I'm not involved, you know I'm not involved, but that might not stop you trying to magic a link. I want a note to let the judge know I've been helpful and can be rewarded by a cut sentence and some protection.'

D.H.: ‘I'll see what can be done.'