Die Twice (60 page)

‘I won't have shaved for a few days, I'll be wearing glasses, and anyway the street's not particularly well lit or well used after dark, so I don't think we'll have a problem there. When Krys arrives all we do is wait for him to go in – apparently he usually travels with a couple of associates – then one of us goes to the door and gains entry.'

‘How does the person gain entry in the first place? Presumably they don't let in any Tom, Dick or Harry.'

‘Someone'll have to do a dummy run first to get an idea of the place. Whoever does it'll use the name of one of the regulars, say that the bloke's recommended it to him. Then once he's been once, he shouldn't have any problem going back a second time. So when he gets in the second time—'

‘If he gets in.'

‘He goes upstairs to reception, which is supposedly fairly quiet, and when he's satisfied that everything's all right, he pulls a gun, takes control of the reception area, and gets the receptionist to let the rest of us in. Then, when we're up the stairs, we find out the room where Krys is doing his thing, and grab him.'

‘What about the men with him? What'll they be doing all this time?'

‘They usually tend to be with their own women. They certainly don't hang about guarding Krys. The beauty of it is that they'll be really easy pickings. Caught with their trousers down, so to speak. We tie them up, disarm them, and then we're out of there. By this time, we've hired a nice little place out in the country on a short let, and we keep him there until the ransom's sorted out.'

‘And how the hell are we going to collect the ransom without getting ourselves killed in the process?'

I paused, not sure whether I still needed to convince myself of this bit. ‘We get his dad to deliver it.'

‘Who? Stefan?' I nodded. ‘Max, we're talking about a man who's a virtual recluse. How are you going to get him out running errands?'

‘Because Krys is his son. One of his boys is in prison, and now he risks losing another one. From what I hear, they're a close-knit family, and Krys, even though he's meant to be one mean fucking bastard, is also the apple of his mother's eye.'

‘Where are you getting all this information from?'

‘A lot of it's common knowledge, Joe. You know that. The Holtzes might try to be secretive but everyone knows about them. I think that if we play this right, then we're going to be able to get his old man to come. And, obviously, if we can do that, then the chances of anyone trying to fuck us over are minimal. They won't dare do anything that'll risk hurting the big boss. Then we take the money, give Krys a nice kicking so he knows what it's like to be on the wrong end of a beating for once, and we're out of there.'

‘And that's it?'

‘That's it. If we make a straight ransom demand of half a million in cash, that'll be enough to make up for the risks we're going to have to take, and give everyone involved the opportunity to take off elsewhere until things either calm down or they don't. Either way there'll be a nice little nest egg, and it's not a sum that people like the Holtzes are going to have any trouble raising. Not with their money. The whole thing'll take a few days and then, bingo, you'll be a whole lot richer than you are today.'

‘If we get away with it.'

‘It's a risky venture, I know that. I'm asking for your involvement because you're my mate, and you know I've got to do something to sort out this situation. Plus, I think the money outweighs the risks. Think about it. We spent months at a time fighting people who make the Holtzes look like pussycats, and all for five hundred quid a week tax free. This might be dangerous, but it's no more dangerous than anything else we've ever done, and this time we can all take a nice long holiday at the end of it.'

Joe took another slug of the beer. ‘Have you spoken to anyone else about this?'

‘Apart from Elaine, no.'

‘And what does she think, this woman you've known for all of one weekend?'

‘I think she'd prefer it if we just got out of London and forgot the whole thing, but now that she knows I'm committed to doing it, she's right behind me.'

‘How do you know she's not going to go and blurt the whole thing out to one of her mates?'

‘Because she's no fool, Joe. Plus, she owes Krys Holtz after what he did to her last night. She won't let us down.'

Joe sat back in his seat and lit a cigarette, still not back in the habit of offering me one, so I pulled out one of my own. ‘The police came to see me again this morning,' he said eventually.

‘Oh yeah? How come?'

‘Eric's missus. She's reported him missing. This detective came round asking questions. Had we seen him? How long's he worked with us? That sort of thing.'

‘Did he mention anything about me?'

‘No, it was a different bloke to the ones who came round Saturday. I got the impression that this one didn't know anything about you. God knows why. You'd have thought they'd have co-ordinated things a bit better.'

‘That's the Old Bill for you. Do you think he suspects anything?'

He shook his head. ‘I don't think so. He sounded like the whole thing was routine, but we really don't need the attention, not with everything else. And you've got to think, they're going to be able to put two and two together eventually, aren't they?'

‘That's another reason to go ahead with this. If we've got money in our pockets, big money, we're not going to have to worry about it.'

He sighed. ‘I don't think they can prove much anyway, not without a body, but it's a worry. You know, it's amazing how everything can change just like that. This time last week everything was hunky dory. Now look at it.' He sat in silence for a few moments and I watched him closely, knowing that if he didn't bite I might as well forget the whole thing now. ‘This sort of operation's going to need at least four people involved, maybe even five,' he said after a while.

‘Yeah, I know. I thought we'd use Johnny Hexham as the driver. He's always available for work, and we don't have to tell him what we're doing. Not until it's too late for him to do anything about it anyway. I can even get him to nick the vehicles we'll use for the snatch. Any ideas who else? Anyone we've worked with in the past? I was thinking of ex-squaddies who are looking for a bit of extra cash.'

‘Not many are going to want to get involved in something like this. Too many things could go wrong.'

‘With half a million to play with, we could make it worth their while.'

‘What split are you suggesting?'

‘Equal shares for everyone who has to carry a gun, fifty grand for the driver, and thirty to Elaine for her part in setting it up. Does that sound fair?'

Joe nodded. ‘Yeah, but we've got to be very careful who else we bring in on this. We don't want to talk to anyone who then turns round and says they're not interested, because that'll compromise everything and probably land me on the same target list you're on.'

‘I agree, but I can't think of anyone offhand. A week ago I'd have said Tony. He was the sort of bloke who'd have gone for this.'

‘When are you hoping to make the snatch?'

‘As soon as we've got everything organized. The place where we're going to hold him, the cars, and obviously the people. It'll be a few days yet, but that's all.'

‘And who's doing the organizing?'

‘I'll do all that, if you can get the other people. I think you're right, perhaps we should have four gunmen. So, are you going to come in on it?'

Joe finished his beer and sighed. ‘All my instincts tell me I'm an idiot for it, and if it was anyone else I'd run a hundred miles in the other direction, but I guess I could do with the money. Yeah, count me in, and give me a couple of days to come up with other possible men. In the meantime, you get things moving. Are you going to use the cash I gave you to cover the costs?'

I nodded. ‘Yeah, that should be plenty.' I offered him another beer, thinking I could probably do with the company, but he said he had to go.

After he'd left, I poured myself one anyway and relaxed in my seat. In the end, I'd always known that Joe would be up for it because, like all people who'd worked the mercenary game, he longed for excitement and had been shot at enough times not to worry too much about the danger involved in what even I had to admit was not exactly a foolproof plan. The rewards, though, were not to be sniffed at.

All I had to do now was make sure the basics were in place, and then we'd be ready to go.

Wednesday, eleven days ago

Gallan

When I arrived at the restaurant, Malik – I assumed it was him – was already there, sat at a table at the far end. I could see why he'd picked this place: he was the only customer in it, which didn't bode too well. I don't usually get an opportunity to sample restaurant fare while I'm on duty, so I hoped Malik knew something the rest of the West End's lunchtime trade didn't.

He stood up as I approached and we introduced ourselves and shook hands. He was a young guy, thirty tops, with a friendly smile and the air of someone with a lot of self-confidence. He was dressed in a dark grey suit that looked more expensive than a copper's wage would allow, and a natty-looking red tie. A bit formal for an eighty-degree day with high humidity, but he carried it well. I thought he looked more like an up-and-coming executive than a copper, but there was something genuine about him. A sense that you could trust what he had to say. If he'd been selling, I'd have definitely been in the marketplace, and it's not often I say that.

A waiter appeared almost as soon as I'd sat down and asked if I'd like a drink. I saw that Malik was on orange juice, but since the Met were paying and I had a pack of peppermints in my pocket, I opted for a beer. I'm not a man who has any problem drinking alone.

‘So, this case you're working on,' said Malik as my drink arrived. ‘What's it all about?'

I gave him a brief rundown of the Matthews inquiry. ‘It's going nowhere fast. There's still been no sign of Jean Tanner – it's like she's vanished into thin air – and the preliminary autopsy on Craig McBride showed he died of a heroin overdose, of all things. Again, no signs of a struggle. Other than that, we've got nothing. No new leads, and no joy with any of the old ones. My hunch is that someone from the Holtz organization is definitely involved, because of the way everyone either ends up dead or disappears, but I'm not in a position to do anything about it.'

Malik nodded thoughtfully. ‘I'm not sure how much help I can be, John.'

I took another sip from my drink. ‘I don't know either, but I'm beginning to run out of options and you never know, you might have something that'll move us forward. Basically, I want as much information as you can give me on the Holtzes and Neil Vamen. I know a little bit, but it's very patchy.'

‘Let's order first,' he said. He picked up a menu from the table and handed it to me. ‘I particularly recommend the saltimbocca.'

‘What the hell's that?'

‘Escalopes of veal and parma ham cooked in a marsala sauce and served with veg of the day and sautéed potatoes. Bellissima!'

‘It sounds like you're part-owner of the place.' I gave the menu a cursory scan but nothing else leapt out at me. ‘OK, I'll go with the escalopes. In honour of my ex-wife.'

‘She used to like them, did she?'

I allowed myself a malicious smile. ‘No, she was a strict vegetarian.'

‘Clearly not an amicable separation.' He laughed.

‘Are they ever?'

‘Maybe more amicable than that. But who am I to judge?' He waved the waiter over and gave our order. ‘Anyway,' he said when the waiter had gone, ‘the Holtzes. I've been part of a team that's been investigating them for getting close to eighteen months now, and let me tell you, they are no easy target. It's like trying to penetrate concrete.'

‘Why's that?'

‘A couple of reasons. One is they've been around as an organization of sorts for getting close to thirty years so they're very well established. The old man Stefan's the lynchpin. He started out as a nasty little thug and amateur boxer who got into debt collecting on behalf of various scumbags before deciding he'd be better off branching out on his own. What differentiated young Stefan from a thousand other lowlifes was that he had a brain, and a very sharp one at that. He was, and is, a very good businessman. I'd say he was wasted in crime but he probably earns ten times more through that than he would do by being legit, and he's expanded majorly over the years. Moved into gambling, counterfeiting, armed robbery for a while, though of course never getting his hands dirty himself. He organized everything but he made sure he only surrounded himself with people he could really trust. That's why in many ways it's always been a family outfit. His two brothers were heavily involved with him in the early days, and then, when they got old enough, his sons got into it as well. They probably never would have been a massive outfit, though, if it hadn't been for drugs.'

I allowed myself a wry chuckle. ‘Same old story.'

‘Always the same old story. Everyone's made big cash out of drugs, no doubt about it, but for an outfit like the Holtzes, with an infrastructure and good underworld contacts already in place, the opportunities have been huge. And they've taken them. You know, the word is Stefan Holtz can't stand drugs. Won't let any of his family touch them, although of course they all do. But as an organization they were into them from the outset. Dope, amphetamines, coke particularly, even heroin. Over the years they've forged alliances with numerous other crime organizations both here and abroad and now they're one of the biggest importers in Britain. They also supply a lot of the gear, particularly Ecstasy and coke, to Ibiza for the summer season. So, if your nice middle-class teenage kid goes over and drops a tab or snorts a line, the chances are that some of the profits on that are heading straight back to the Holtzes, and we're not talking about small quantities here. Thousands of people are taking millions of pounds' worth of gear every night between May and October. And that's just one part of their smuggling activities.