Betrayed (31 page)

‘I see Flinty’s brought his gorillas,’ Matt said. He tapped Adrian on the shoulder. ‘How about doubling back when you can, mate, and going past again so I can get a snap of them?’

‘Is that wise?’ Rosie asked.

‘It’s okay. The traffic is quite heavy and it’s a reasonably busy street,’ Matt said. ‘These eejits aren’t going to be thinking anyone’s taking their picture from a car. The minders look like they’d have trouble knowing their left hand from their right. They’re probably the first generation of their family to walk upright.’

Rosie laughed. ‘Yeah. You might find they’ve got tails when they stand up.’ She turned to Matt. ‘But just be careful. Don’t do it if there’s even the slightest risk.’

‘Don’t worry. They won’t even know it’s done.’

They drove past as the taxi pulled up and McGregor, Dunlop and Mitch got out and walked towards Flinty’s table. McGregor was carrying a black holdall. Flinty stood up and shook his hand, then motioned them to another, bigger table, even though there was enough room for all of them where he was.

‘They must be expecting company,’ Rosie said.

A few minutes later, Adrian parked the car and they walked along the riverside where several of the cafes and restaurants on the quayside were beginning to fill up. For a moment, all three of them stood and watched the tourist boats glide down the river in the setting sun. Then they headed to the bar Garcia had told them to go to. It was two up from where McGregor sat, and the bar in between was busy enough to ensure that they were far enough out of the line of vision of anyone at his table.

‘It’s closer than I thought,’ Rosie said, looking around for a place that would keep them out of view.

She found a table behind some tall plants and they sat down.

‘The only way they’d be able to see us here is if they decide to go for a walk along this way and right through the cafe. We’ll be fine.’ Matt took a long look before he sat down. ‘And I might just be able to squeeze a snap in from here. If not, I’ll go walkabout. Nobody knows me.’ He grinned at Rosie. ‘You’re the one Jimmy knows.’

‘Don’t remind me,’ Rosie said. ‘But I still think he wouldn’t bat an eyelid if he walked up here and found me.’

‘Well, don’t be too sure.’

‘I can see Javier and Garcia,’ Rosie said, peering through the foliage. ‘Do you think you can spot the undercover cops?’

Matt looked around.

‘Don’t think so. The restaurant’s quite busy, so they could be sitting anywhere among the crowd.’

‘I can see who it might be,’ Adrian said, looking into the distance. ‘There are three guys on a couple of tables by McGregor. I think they are police.’

‘I see them,’ Rosie said. ‘You might be right there. How can you tell?’

Adrian shrugged and said nothing. The waiter came and they ordered coffee. Moments later, as the drinks were
placed on the table, Adrian’s eyes suddenly grew dark. He leaned forward, reaching across to touch Rosie’s hand.

‘Listen, Rosie. Do not react to what I am going to say. Please.’ He took a breath. ‘But your old friend Jake Cox has just come from the inside of the bar and joined them at the table.’

‘Tell me you’re joking!’ Rosie saw his face suddenly even paler than normal. Her stomach dropped. ‘Jesus! You’re not joking.’ She glanced at Matt.

‘Oh fuck! I don’t believe this.’ Matt blew out his cheeks and kept his head down.

Adrian’s eyes were fixed across at the bar. Rosie rang Javier.

‘Rosita. We saw you arrive.’

‘Javier. There’s a problem.’

‘What?’

‘That guy who’s just joined them. Can you see him?’

‘Yes. The older guy. I see him.’

‘That’s Jake Cox.’

‘Oh.’ He paused. ‘That
is
a problem.’

‘He must be involved with them. I had no idea. It didn’t even come up anywhere on the radar.’

‘I suppose maybe it should have. They are all connected, these gangsters.’

‘I know. But we were looking only at the UVF and McGregor. There will be other gangsters who smuggle drugs
in, of course. We can’t cover them all. I just had no idea Cox was at all involved with this particular mob.’

‘Well. Maybe he’s not involved as such. But he does live down on the Costa del Sol and he is a player back in Glasgow, so maybe he just came along to see some of his old mates. He could have come up for the Rangers match and has joined them for a drink.’

‘I don’t think so. Because McGregor is carrying the holdall and Cox wouldn’t be there during any kind of exchange if he wasn’t involved in some way. Have you been able to see if there’s any bag or anything at Flinty’s table?’

‘Of course, Rosie. We were here before he arrived. One of the minders was carrying the bag and he put it down on the ground next to where Flinty was sitting. Then when they moved tables, it was Flinty who carried it. If this is a handover, then I’d say that will be the coke. I suppose McGregor will be carrying the money.’

They were silent for a moment.

‘It’s dodgy for us here, with Jake Cox around. He could easily go for a walk to the river, turn around and spot me. Then we’ve had it.’

‘I know. Well, my friend Juan did say you shouldn’t have come, Rosita.’

‘Javier,’ Rosie said, irritated, ‘I’m here. That’s all that matters. No point in saying what I should or should not have done. I’m here, so let’s deal with it.’

‘Okay. Let’s just keep it calm. I think you are far enough
away and the place is getting busier for the evening. But you might have to think about trying to leave discreetly, because the longer you are here, the more chance there is of you being seen.’

‘All right,’ Rosie sighed. She had to agree with him, and deep down perhaps Garcia was right that she shouldn’t have been here in the first place, but she wasn’t about to admit that. ‘I’ll talk to Adrian and Matt and we’ll work it out.’

‘Okay.’

‘But what about you, Javier?’ Rosie said, an image flashing into her mind of him the night he was shot by Cox’s henchman on the Costa del Sol last year.

‘Cox has never seen me before. If you remember, the night I got shot, only the minder saw me. The one who held the gun to your head. And I shot him … saving your life … not that I’m casting it up.’ He chuckled.

‘But there were others, Javier.’ Rosie was too edgy for humour. ‘The guys who ran out of the whorehouse after Adrian and his sister. What about them?’

‘Rosie. I’m surrounded by five armed Civil Guards. I’ll be fine.’

‘And what about the handover of the drugs and money?’ Rosie couldn’t help her paranoia now that she was in a weaker position.

‘We can take care of things here, Rosie. If there is a handover then it will be recorded.’

‘Yes,’ Rosie said, ‘but if we haven’t recorded it ourselves
we have no guarantee that Garcia will turn it over to us.’ She paused. ‘I … I just like to do things myself to make sure it’s mine and I actually saw it … You know—’

‘Rosie,’ Javier interrupted and Rosie sensed his irritation. ‘We will deal with that in time. Now come on. You know it isn’t safe for you to stay here.’

‘Okay,’ Rosie said. ‘Talk later.’ She hung up.

She looked at Matt, then at Adrian, whose eyes were everywhere, scanning every face. She gnawed at the skin around her thumbnail as she glanced over again at Jake Cox, where she could just make out his big, ugly florid face as he threw his head back and cackled at whatever joke someone had just cracked around the table. He looked none the worse for the bullet Adrian had put in him the night he rescued his sister from the Fuengirola whorehouse last summer. The word on the street in Glasgow was that Cox was lying low, licking his wounds, and that big Al Howie was running the show for him – though after Rosie’s recent exposé on the missing refugees, he too had gone to ground. She made a silent prayer that Howie didn’t turn up here, because he was an even bigger psycho than Cox. But on this evidence, big Jake looked as much of a player as ever. She consoled herself with the thought that perhaps he was just up at Seville for the Rangers match, and was catching up with a few old cronies. But Rosie was certain of one thing – if this bastard got wind that she was sitting within shooting distance, she’d be dead. Her mouth was dry, and when
she lifted the water bottle she hoped nobody saw the slight tremor in her hand.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ she said, dropping some money on the table.

‘In a moment,’ Adrian said. ‘Don’t look, but there is a Merc with blacked-out windows coming along the road slowly. Could be anyone, but we stay here till it goes past.’

Rosie turned her head slightly and could see the Merc slowing up as it drove past the riverside cafes and then out of view.

‘Could be anybody,’ Matt said, more in hope than belief. ‘I’m sure there’s all sorts of people in Seville, from celebrities to Spanish gangsters. Let’s not get our knickers in a twist.’

‘Yeah,’ Rosie said, resisting the urge to smile at the look of dread on his face.

‘I think I should go and bring the car to the bar just two cafes along from here, then in a few minutes you come straight down and get in. Rather than us all leave here together.’

‘Okay,’ Rosie nodded, wishing she was sitting where Javier was, surrounded by armed Guardia Civil.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Rosie and Matt watched as Adrian disappeared from view, then allowed time for him to pick up the car before they left the bar. They walked briskly into the street without looking back in the direction where McGregor and his gang sat.

‘It rankles me leaving something before I can actually see what I came to see,’ Rosie said to Matt as they walked.

‘I know what you mean. But it’s better than getting rumbled by that fat bastard Cox.’

They made their way to the spot where they arranged to meet Adrian, and waited. Rosie took out her mobile phone and flicked through the contacts until she saw TJ’s name. She looked at her watch. It would be around lunchtime in New York, and she thought about giving him a quick call. She hadn’t spoken to him since the call the other night when Kat answered the phone in his apartment. No – leave it, she told herself. She’d wait until she got back to the hotel room, where she could think about the conversation
she would have with him, see if he mentioned anything about Kat staying there. She would be able to detect if he was being cagey. Again with the paranoia. All she knew was that Kat answered the phone and TJ was asleep. She’d call him later. Put her mind at ease, or deal with whatever she had to deal with.

‘Adrian’s taking a while,’ Matt said after they’d stood a couple of minutes longer than they expected. Then he suddenly patted his jeans pocket. ‘Shit! I’ve left my mobile on the table in the bar.’

‘Christ, Matt! Sprint back and get it. Adrian should be here in a second. Traffic’s heavy.’

Rosie peered into the distance hoping Adrian’s car would appear on the horizon as Matt ran back to the bar. Then suddenly she saw the Merc they’d seen earlier with the blacked-out windows. It was coming over the brow of the hill towards her in a line of traffic. Rosie turned her head away, anxious, and glanced back to where she could see Matt reach the bar. She was about to instinctively shout after him when the Merc slowed up and pulled into the kerb beside her. Panic lashed across her gut. The rear window slid down slowly. And in the back seat, his face a mask of grey, was Adrian. There was a gun at his head. The front passenger door clunked open.

‘Get in.’ A voice from the back seat. ‘Or your fucking mate’s brains will be all over the pavement.’

‘What the fu—’ Rosie automatically glanced over her
shoulder where she could see Matt about twenty yards away walking towards them. He stopped in his tracks and Rosie prayed he’d stay where he was.

‘Are you fucking deaf as well as stupid?’ the voice growled. ‘Get in the car.’

Rosie’s legs turned to jelly. Adrian was still as a statue, staring straight ahead. Then, when he looked up at her, there was no fear or desperation in his eyes, but there was trust.

‘You’ve got three seconds.’ All she could see was a hand, as the gun was pushed harder into the side of Adrian’s head, making a red mark above his ear.

Rosie stepped off the kerb and eased her shaking legs into the front seat. As the car drove off, she could see in the wing mirror the panic and confusion in Matt’s face as he punched a number into his mobile. Please let it be Javier’s and not mine, Rosie prayed.

The Merc slowed down a little as it passed the bar where McGregor sat, and she saw Javier and Garcia a few tables away from them, within shouting distance if only she could shout. In the seconds it took them to pass, Rosie glimpsed Jake Cox looking straight at the blacked-out windows and she could have sworn there was a smirk on his face.

A mobile rang in the back seat and Rosie heard the voice answer it.

‘Got the two of them, boss. It was no problem … All right … Hold on.’

A fist dug firmly into Rosie’s shoulder and she turned her head slightly to see a mobile phone thrust towards her. She briefly saw the bloated-faced man who held the gun to Adrian’s head, his thick lips curled into a sneer.

‘Here … Mr Cox wants a word.’

Rosie took the phone in her trembling hand and put it to her ear. She cleared her dry throat.

‘Welcome back to Spain, Rosie. Do you know who this is?’

She didn’t answer.

‘What’s the matter? Lost your voice, hen?’

Rosie stayed silent.

‘Well. You can just listen to me then, pal. You’re well and truly fucked this time. You and that Commie bastard in the back seat. That big cunt shot me in Fuengirola that night. Did you know that? You’ve not forgot, have you? Did he think he was going to get away with it? I’m lucky I’m still here. But not so lucky for you. Or him. Because we’re going to have a bit of fun now all right.’ He paused. ‘And by the way, you’re not as clever as you think you are, because my driver might be a thick bastard, but he never forgets a face. And he remembered your big Commie pal from Fuengirola, and spotted him the minute he drove past as you were in the bar here. That’s why you’re sitting there shitting yourselves and I’m enjoying a wee drink.’

‘People know where I am,’ Rosie blurted out, aware of the quake in her voice. ‘They’ll be looking for me.’