Fear of the Fathers (22 page)

Kamal took a thoughtful sip of coffee. “There is not much to tell. I was orphaned at the age of five and grew up on the streets. I worked hard and educated myself in books and the martial arts. When I was twenty-two I became a bodyguard – for the Prime Minister, Mrs Gandhi. I left when she was assassinated.”

Annie stared at him open-mouthed. “But wasn't she assassinated by her bodyguards?”

“Yes, but not by me. She was a great woman, and the daughter of a very great man; she was my mentor. I felt utterly betrayed by my colleagues. An enquiry tried to inculpate me in the crime, but I was eventually exonerated. Even so, I never went back.”

“So what made you become a hitman?”

“Disgust, I think. I lost faith in humanity the day she was killed. She turned to the guards and greeted them with the word
Namaste
. They answered by shooting her in cold blood. It chills me to this day.” He looked away, his eyes flickering. “From that point I felt lost and without emotion. Becoming a hitman seemed like the easy thing to do. I was an expert in armed and unarmed combat, and of course the money was very good.”

“What does
Namaste
mean?” Annie asked.

He turned back to face her. “Literally it means ‘I bow to you'. In yoga it means ‘may the light in me honour the light in you'. Ultimately it is a sign of respect and peace.”

“Why did they shoot her?”

“It is a long story. But in brief, Sikh militants had taken over the Golden Temple at Amritsar, they were using it as a base and were killing Hindus and other Sikhs. And rightly, or wrongly, Mrs Gandhi sent in the army to stop them. Her Sikh bodyguards shot her in retaliation.”

“Why didn't she get rid of them?”

Kamal smiled ironically. “Because she trusted them…she trusted us.” He paused. “After that day I renounced my religion. It made me sick to think that I was part of something so cowardly. We were supposed to be brave – ‘Singh' means lion. There was nothing brave about shooting a defenceless woman.”

“But what about that?” she said, pointing to the bangle on his wrist. “Isn't that religious?”

“It was given to me by my mother before she died. I wear it to honour her, not any religion.”

Kamal fell quiet, and Annie left him to his thoughts. For a second time she sensed he might almost be human. His eyes were moist and his face filled with solemnity. A part of her wanted to get up and give him a big hug, but she knew that he did not desire pity.

After a prolonged silence Kamal spoke: “We should get ready to go. I will meet you in your room in one hour.”

“Okay,” said Annie. “I'll be ready.”

A cold breeze prodded her cheek and brought Stella back to consciousness. She was lying face-up on the floor next to the sofa. Cushions were scattered around her along with shards of smoked glass from the coffee table. She pulled herself up and shook the dizziness from her head.

When she finally got to her feet and surveyed the full extent of the damage, she felt like crying again. The front window was smashed; shelves had been pulled out of their units, leaving books and CDs broken, and strewn haphazardly over the wooden floor; the stereo was lying in pieces in the corner; and the television had been flipped onto its back behind the stand. She held her head in her hands.

The buzzing of the intercom broke the silence and made her heart jump. She walked zombie-like to the still-whole panel and answered. “Who is it?” she said wearily.

“It's Tags.”

“Tags?” she said dreamily. “Who's Tags?”

“Tags, from the Angel,” said the voice. “Old friend of Oggi and Stratton's. We met the other day. Can I come up?”

Stella thought for a moment, trying to engage her blank mind. “Tags. Sorry, I remember now.” She looked around the stricken flat. “It's not really convenient at the moment. Can you come back later?”

“It's important.”

“Sorry, it's just not convenient,” she repeated. “Give me a few hours.”

“Listen Stella,” he said. “I can see the broken window from down here. Whatever's happened, I can help. Just let me up. Or do I have to camp out here all day annoying you and your neighbours with constant knocking and buzzing.”

Knowing that he probably meant what he said, and being too exhausted to argue, she relented and buzzed him in. She opened the front door and turned round to start clearing up the mess.

“Fucking hell!” said Tags as he entered, “What the fuck's gone on here! Have you been burgled?!”

Stella, who was crouched down picking up CDs, turned to him with teary eyes and said, “I had a bit of an accident.” She stood up and started to cry.

Tags put a comforting arm round her. “Don't worry,” he said. “I'll give you a hand sorting all this out. It'll be back to normal in no time. Why don't you go and sit down at the dining table. I'll put the kettle on and make you a cuppa.”

Against her nature, Stella did as she was told. Her incandescent rage had turned to amnesial emptiness. Incapable of much more than the slightest movement, she slumped down and waited for Tags to return with her tea.

“There you go,” he said, placing the mug in front of her. “I put a couple of sugars in it. Apparently the sweetness helps with shock. Of course it may just be an old wives' tale.”

Stella smiled briefly and murmured her thanks.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” said Tags, delving into his jacket pocket. “I found this in the hedge downstairs.” He held up her coffee mug.

Stella gave a small laugh. “Well, at least not everything's broken.” She took a sip of the tea and felt a trickle of life prick her veins. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“I was passing by and I saw the window, so I thought I'd better check it out.”

She cocked her head and eyed him suspiciously. “But how do you know where I live?”

“I know everything,” he said enigmatically.

“Don't give me that,” she said. “You weren't just passing by either, were you? You're here for a reason.”

Tags pulled out a soft pack of Marlboro and offered one to Stella, who accepted. He lit it and then his own. “Okay, I wasn't just passing,” he said. “I heard rumour that something was going down, so I came to see for myself.”

“Are you spying on me?” she asked.

“I wouldn't exactly call it spying. Just keeping an eye out for you.”

“Spying then,” she said as a matter of fact. In any other circumstances she would have been seething, but as well as being too listless to argue, she was secretly pleased at the company.

“When I saw you with that priest the other day, I started to worry. There was something funny about him – something that didn't ring true. Since then I've had someone breeze by a couple of times a day just to check you're okay.”

“But why are you so concerned? You hardly know me.”

“True, I don't. But you were important to Stratton, and also Oggi seemed quite fond of you. I'm sure he wouldn't want a priest taking advantage of your grief.”

“It all sounds a bit flimsy to me,” she said, her senses gradually returning. “There's more to this than you're telling me.” She sipped her tea and took a drag of smoke. “How is Oggi anyway?”

“I don't know what you mean,” said Tags. “I haven't seen him for three months or so.”

“Don't give me that crap,” she said. “Someone had to break him out of that prison van. And someone must be hiding him now. There's no way he could have got out of the country.”

Tags shrugged his shoulders. “Search me,” he said. “I've got no idea what happened. The police have already questioned me and the boys. Our alibis are airtight.”

“I'm sure they are,” laughed Stella. “But if you're doing this as a favour to Oggi then you must have seen him. I'm not in the police anymore you know, I'm a civilian. You can trust me not to say anything.”

“I don't trust anybody,” said Tags. “Especially not an ex-copper. But in the interests of forwarding this conversation, I'll take a chance and come clean. Oggi is fine, a bit smelly and pissed off, but he's fine.”

“Where is he then?”

“Listen Stella, I've told you enough already. Let's talk about you and this mess. What happened?”

Stella hung her head. “Nothing important,” she said.

“Nothing important doesn't lay waste to a flat though, does it?” said Tags.

“Look, I don't really want to talk about it right now. All I want to do at the moment is get this place looking semi-habitable again.”

“Fair enough,” said Tags. “I'll help you clear up. But after that we need to talk.”

Kamal drove the Subaru steadily down the A361 towards Banbury, his face calm yet concentrated. He wore the same false beard he had done for the job at the racecourse. In the passenger seat Annie gazed out into the overcast countryside, chewing nervously on her nails. For all of Kamal's reassurances she could not shake the sickening that threatened to overwhelm her. She concentrated on her breath, slowing it to regular intervals in an attempt to stem the tide of hopelessness.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked. “I mean, wouldn't it be better to wait until the odds are in our favour?”

“The odds were against us from the start,” said Kamal, keeping his eyes front. “We have to take the chance. I do not like it but that is how it must be.”

Five minutes later, just before the village of Bloxham, Kamal turned off the main road and headed down a country lane.

“Do you know where you're going?” Annie asked.

“Yes, I do,” said Kamal. “I have memorized the route. We will be there in about five minutes.”

“It seems very out of the way,” said Annie.

“I know. But this is how it is to be done. We are not calling the shots.”

All too quickly for Annie they reached their destination: a quiet picnic spot just outside of Banbury called the Giants' Caves. A rusty gate led on to a small access road, which in turn led to a minimal gravel parking area enclosed by trees. Kamal stopped the car before the gate. “You must wait here,” he said. “I must go up there alone.”

Annie was defiant. “No way,” she said. “It's my family – I want to be there.”

Kamal turned to her and took her hand in his. “You must trust me on this. Your presence will only complicate matters. I have a better chance of getting them out of here on my own.”

Annie looked at him pleadingly. “Are you sure?” she said.

“I am sure,” he nodded. “Now get out of the car, and hide behind that bush until I return. Be on your toes because we will have to be quick.” He paused and looked at her earnestly. “If anything happens to me, and I do not return, then you must take your chances and go to the police. It will be your only option.”

Annie looked at him softly and said, “Thank you.” She kissed him on the cheek, got out of the car and crouched down behind the bush he'd pointed to.

Kamal looked at his watch. It was 11.30am. He was fifteen minutes early. He drove slowly up the badly-kept track checking the foliage on either side for signs of movement. He reached the car park without incident.

In front of him to the left he saw a blacked-out Lexus. To the right was a space with picnic tables that broke the surround of the trees. He pulled the Subaru in so that his back was to the open land. Getting out of the car he surveilled the trees carefully, and stood waiting in the drizzle.

The driver's door to the Lexus opened, and then the passenger side. Two men got out. Both were wearing dark grey suits and highly-shined shoes. One was dark-haired, the other grey. He recognized them from Cheltenham. They were part of the team that had tried to catch him. Annie had been right all along – they were Special Branch.

The younger man pulled a gun from a shoulder holster. “Where's the girl?” he said.

“She's not here,” said Kamal. “I came alone.”

“The deal was for both of you to come.”

“Well, I am afraid you just have me…And, of course, the money.”

“Where is it?”

“It is in the boot of the car.”

The younger man walked over to Kamal keeping his gun trained. He motioned him to open the boot. “And no tricks,” he said.

Kamal flicked the boot and removed a sports bag. The man opened it and checked the contents.

“Is it all there?” shouted the older man.

“Looks like it,” said the younger.

“Right then,” said Kamal. “Where are the boy and the woman?”

“In the back of the car. But we want to see the girl first.”

“I told you, she is not here,” said Kamal. “There is no need for her to be. You have the money so release the captives.”