Black Ops: The 12th Spider Shepherd Thriller (11 page)

‘He said he was having problems at home and didn’t want his mum to find it. It wasn’t the first time.’

‘What?’

‘He’s done it a few times in the past and there’s never been a problem.’

‘I don’t see why anyone would think it was a good idea to take drugs into the school in the first place. And how were you going to get to this party?’

Liam looked away, embarrassed.

‘You were going to sneak out of school?’

‘Everyone does it, Dad.’

Shepherd shook his head in frustration. ‘I’m sure that’s not true. You were sneaking out for drugs and booze, is that it?’

‘For parties, Dad. Didn’t you go to parties when you were a kid?’

‘I didn’t take drugs when I was your age,’ said Shepherd. ‘Or any age,’ he added quickly.

‘But you didn’t wait until you were eighteen before you had a beer, right? No one does.’

Shepherd held up his hands. ‘Liam, this isn’t about you having the odd bottle of beer or even the occasional joint, this is about you being caught with a Class A drug. But none of this would have happened if you’d just followed the rules.’

Liam nodded. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I know you’re sorry. But unfortunately being sorry isn’t going to count for anything.’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t believe how stupid you’ve been.’

He got out of the car and looked at the card the headmaster’s secretary had given him. It belonged to a Detective Sergeant Paul Drinkwater and had a landline number and extension, and a mobile. He called the mobile but it went straight through to voicemail. He left a short message and then called the landline. That extension also went through to voicemail. This time he didn’t leave a message. He called back on the main station number and was told that DS Drinkwater had left the station and wasn’t expected back until Monday. Shepherd went back to the SUV and climbed in. Liam was wiping away his tears as he stared out of the window. Shepherd hated his son being so unhappy but knew that the lad had brought it upon himself. ‘I’ll have to talk to them on Monday,’ he said. ‘Meanwhile you’re grounded in Hereford. And I mean grounded. No TV, no PlayStation, no phone.’

Liam nodded but didn’t look at him. ‘I thought you’d be angrier than this,’ he said.

Shepherd forced a smile. ‘I am angry, Liam. I’m furious. But getting angry isn’t going to fix anything.’ He started the engine and put the SUV in gear. ‘Let’s see what I can do.’

H
arper picked up a rental car from an independent firm run out of a railway arch in the East End of London. He paid cash and didn’t have to show his licence. The car was a nondescript Ford Mondeo, three years old with almost 100,000 miles on the clock. Harper had picked up a UK street atlas at a newsagent. He never used SatNav. While SatNavs made navigation easier, they also provided a permanent record of where the car had been.

He left London and drove north, keeping just below the speed limit. By early evening he was sitting in the far corner of a service station car park on the M6 west of Manchester. Harper flashed his lights as he saw a silver BMW cruising around the edge of the car park. It parked in the next bay and a few seconds later, Jony Hasan slid into Harper’s passenger seat.

Harper knew the British-born Bangladeshi well and had bought untraceable weapons from him on several occasions.

‘Shit car, bruv,’ Jony said. ‘I thought you had better taste than that.’

‘I do. Sometimes it’s better not to draw attention to yourself, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?’ He looked him over. ‘Jesus, Jony, you look more like a throwback to the 1950s every time I see you. All you need is a quiff and a guitar.’

Jony broke into a broad grin. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment, bruv.’ He was in his mid-twenties, dark skinned and with slicked-back hair that was always glistening with gel, and as usual he had turned up dressed in his ‘uniform’ of black leather jacket and black jeans with pointed, silver-tipped black boots. He passed Harper a cigarette, lit one himself, and lowered the window a couple of inches. He blew a plume of smoke out into the gathering darkness and then glanced across at Harper. ‘So what’s it to be, bruv? Need a handgun, one careful lady owner, no history?’

‘Not this time, Jony. I’ll be needing stuff for this job that even you can’t supply. But I’ve got some work for you just the same, if you’re interested. A little bit out of your normal run and you’ll have to base yourself in London for a few weeks, but there’s some serious money in it. Five grand a week and you won’t even have to get your hands dirty.’

‘You just played my favourite tune. I’m in.’

‘Don’t you want to know what the job is first?’

‘Nah, it doesn’t matter,’ Jony said. ‘For five grand a week I’ll do anything short of murder.’ He frowned and flashed Harper a worried look. ‘It’s not murder, is it?’

Harper grinned. ‘It’s not murder, I just need you to bait a trap for me.’

‘And who’s the victim?’

Harper passed him the photo of O’Brien’s daughter. ‘She’s called Bridie. Bridie O’Brien. I need you to chat her up.’

Jony started laughing. ‘Not bad. Blonde, pretty, twenties; she’s just my type. If her dad owns a brewery I might be in love.’

Harper grinned. ‘Come off it, Jony, we both know they’re all your type.’

‘All right if I fuck her then?’

‘Be my guest, just as long as you take care of business first.’

‘And you ain’t going to pay me just for chatting her up, right?’

‘That’s the easy part. You’ve got to pose as a dodgy wheeler dealer, though that shouldn’t be too much of a stretch, should it?’ he said. ‘You’re selling knock-offs of one sort or another – hot phones, booze, whatever – from the back of a van. She’s always in her local getting pissed, and is always strapped for cash, so it should be fairly easy for you to chat her up and then hire her for a couple of cash jobs, driving you around while you make deliveries.’

‘And you’re sure she’ll do it?’

‘Like I just said, she’s always strapped for cash, so yeah, why wouldn’t she? Then you need to find a way to let her accidentally catch sight of a couple of weapons.’

‘Whoa, bruv, that’s putting me right in the frame.’

‘She and her dad are hardcore, Jony. She’s not going to be trying to grass you up, but she is going to try and buy some weapons from you.’

Jony put his head on one side. ‘And?’

‘The first time she asks you, you’re going to clam up. When she persists, you tell her you’re just the delivery boy. Your boss is a very big wheel in the illegal weapons trade, an East European guy who’s got contacts in all the old Soviet bloc countries and can get anything from a pistol to a nuclear bomb. But he never comes to this country and is very, very wary about new customers. When she persists – and she will – you’ll reluctantly agree to ask your boss.’

‘Which is where you come into the picture.’

‘Eventually, yes, but you need to knock her back the first couple of times she asks.’

‘Gotcha,’ Jony said. ‘That’s it?’

‘Except that you need to be very cautious around her. Make sure you keep plenty of distance on her and don’t let slip your real name or anything about you that would allow her – or her heavy friends – to identify or trace you. She’s not a real player herself, she’s just a foot soldier, but her dad is the genuine article – the boss of a seriously dangerous organisation, real hardcore. You don’t want to be messing with them and you sure as hell don’t want them knowing your contact details or anything that could help them track you down, because if they get the slightest hint that you’ve been playing them, you’re dead meat.’ He paused. ‘And when they realise they’ve been conned, they will definitely try to find you.’

Completely unfazed, Jony gave a broad grin. ‘They’ll have a job; we all look alike to you white guys, right?’

Harper laughed and handed Jony a thick envelope. ‘That’s your first couple of weeks’ payment and a bit extra for expenses. The address of her local’s in there as well; she’s there practically every night of the week apparently, but don’t be too quick to chat her up. Let her clock you a couple of times and catch sight of you shifting a few dodgy phones first. Softly, softly, catchee monkey.’

S
hepherd and Liam arrived back at Hereford after dark. They had driven the whole way in silence. When they eventually pulled up in front of their house Shepherd turned off the engine and looked at his son. ‘As soon as we get inside, pack a suitcase and I’ll drive you over to your grandparents.’

‘Why can’t I stay here?’ asked Liam. ‘Katra is here, she can take care of me.’

Shepherd shook his head. ‘I don’t trust you, Liam. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is.’

‘I’ll be good, Dad. I swear.’

‘Then you need to prove that to me. You need to earn my trust again.’

Liam put his hands over his face. ‘I can’t face them, Dad. I can’t tell them what I did.’

‘You have to own up to your mistakes,’ said Shepherd. ‘That’s what men do.’

‘I’m sorry, Dad. I’m really sorry. But please, don’t tell Granddad and Grandma. Can’t we just say I wanted to come back to Hereford?’

‘Lying is never a good idea,’ said Shepherd..

‘You lie, when you’re working. When you’re undercover, you lie all the time.’

‘That’s different. Don’t try playing that game with me, Liam. When I’m undercover I’m pretending to be someone I’m not. It’s my job. You’re talking about lying to people who love you.’

‘I can’t tell Granddad. I can’t. And I don’t want Grandma looking at me knowing what I did. Please, Dad, I won’t lie but can’t I just say I’m changing schools and leave it at that?’

Shepherd thought about it for several seconds. ‘Okay. You can say you wanted to come back to Hereford. But no lying. And you’re on a seven p.m. curfew every night, weekdays and weekends. And when you go out you tell them where you’re going and when you’ll be back.’

Liam nodded. ‘Okay.’

‘I’m serious, Liam. This is your one chance to get back on the straight and narrow.’

‘Dad, I made a mistake. I won’t do it again.’

‘Okay.’ He opened the door and climbed out. ‘And we’re still not out of the woods on this, remember? I’ll do what I can but you might still end up in court, and if that happens there’ll be no way of stopping Granddad and Grandma from finding out.’ He opened the rear door of the SUV and helped Liam take out the trunk.

Katra had the front door open for them as they walked up the path. She hurried out and hugged Liam. ‘You get bigger every time I see you,’ she said. She had her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail and was wearing a pink sweatshirt over cut-off denim jeans.

She smiled at Shepherd. ‘I’ll get his room ready,’ she said. ‘Then I can cook. I’ve got steaks.’

‘Steaks would be great, but no need to get his room ready,’ said Shepherd.

Liam manhandled his trunk up the stairs. Katra went to help him but he waved her away and told her that he could do it himself.

Katra followed Shepherd through to the kitchen. He sat down while Katra made coffee. He explained what had happened and why Liam was no longer at the boarding school.

‘Drugs?’ she said. ‘Not Liam.’

‘I’m afraid so,’ said Shepherd. ‘So he’s going to stay with his grandparents. I’m pretty sure I can get him a place in the Hereford Academy in Redhill. Do you know it?’

Katra nodded.

‘You can drive him there and back, but I want him staying with his grandparents.’

‘He can stay here. I can take care of him.’

‘I don’t think I can trust him, Katra.’

‘I’ll watch him like a hawk.’

Shepherd smiled. ‘I’m sure you would. But he was sneaking in and out of school to go to parties. I don’t want him doing that here.’

‘I’ll sleep outside his door,’ said Katra, and Shepherd laughed. ‘I’m serious, Dan,’ she said. She put a mug of coffee down in front of him. ‘This is his home. It doesn’t make sense for him to stay somewhere else.’

Shepherd sipped his coffee. ‘You might be right,’ he said.

‘I’ll get up before him and I won’t go to sleep before he sleeps,’ said Katra. ‘I won’t let him go out unless he checks with you first.’

Shepherd smiled at her enthusiasm. Katra had been his au pair for almost ten years and she was part of the family. ‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘How about you get started on the steaks?’

As Katra busied herself cooking, Shepherd sipped his coffee. He realised that Katra had been with him for three years longer than he’d been married to Sue, Liam’s mother. Not long after Sue had been killed in a senseless road traffic accident, Shepherd had hired her to take care of Liam. She was barely out of her teens at the time, and spoke reasonable English but with a heavy Slovenian accent. Over the years her English had improved and her accent had evened out. If anything she had picked up a slight Australian accent from all the Australian soap operas she watched. He found it difficult to imagine life without her. Over the last few years she had spent far more time with Liam than his grandparents had. She was family now, and she was right, the house was his home. It was where he belonged. ‘I’m just going up to talk to Liam,’ he said.

He went upstairs and knocked on the door to Liam’s bedroom.

‘Yes?’

Shepherd pushed the door open. Liam was sitting on the bed and from the redness in his eyes it was clear he’d been crying. ‘Are you okay?’

Liam nodded. ‘I’m nearly packed. I can leave some stuff here, right? This is still my home, isn’t it?’

‘Of course it is,’ said Shepherd. He walked over and hugged his son. ‘We just have to get this sorted out, that’s all.’

‘I’m really, really sorry, Dad,’ said Liam. He sniffed, then released himself from Shepherd’s hug and wiped his eyes.

‘Look, I’ve been thinking about you staying with your grandparents. If you promise to not let me down, it’d be all right if you stayed here.’

‘Really?’

Shepherd nodded. ‘I’ve spoken to Katra. She can take you to and from school and do any cooking you need. But I’ll talk to her every day and if you put a foot wrong you go to your grandparents and I let them know why.’

Liam nodded solemnly. ‘I won’t let you down, Dad.’

‘And keep your iPhone on and charged all the time.’

‘You’re going to track my phone?’