Hearts of Stone (3 page)

6

B
rady took that as his cue, and went over to put the kettle on. He shook it, then swore under his breath and left the cabin. I heard the sound of running water outside. He came back, plugged in the kettle and pushed the button on the back. He fiddled around with the cups and said to me, ‘Coffee or tea?'

‘Tea,' I said. ‘One sugar, and milk.'

He dropped a tea bag into a mug, added a spoonful of sugar, picked up a waxed cardboard carton of milk, smelt it, nodded to himself, and splashed some in after the sugar. All the comforts of home, I thought.

We all waited for the kettle to heat up. No one said anything. When it finally boiled and the button clicked out, Brady made the drinks and passed them round.

‘Mind if I smoke?' I asked.

‘Go on then,' said Endesleigh.

‘Anyone got a cigarette?' I asked. ‘I came out in a rush. You know how it is.'

Brady took a packet of Marlboro Lights from the pocket of his leather jacket and tossed them to me. I took one.

‘Light?' I said.

Brady sighed and found his lighter, came over and fired me up.

‘Cheers,' I said. Then I said to Endesleigh, ‘What then, Detective Inspector?'

‘Detective
Chief
Inspector,' he said back.

‘Christ!' I said. ‘Every time I see you you've put on a rank.'

‘That's how I like it,' he said.

‘You won't keep on if you lose too many troops,' I told him.

‘That's precisely why you're here.'

I didn't like the sound of that one bit. ‘And precisely why am I here?' I asked.

‘To help us.'

‘Don't be stupid,' I said.

‘Shut it,' cut in Chiltern.

‘Now, Nick,' said Endesleigh. ‘Let's be reasonable, shall we?'

‘You must be fucking mad if you think I'm going to do anything for you. I'm out of all that lark now. I'm out of everything to do with it – everything I used to be. I work in a bar. I get four pounds fifty an hour, and a meal every session that I do. Occasionally a punter will buy me a beer. Otherwise I buy my own. The only people I know are the customers. I've got no friends away from work. No girlfriend. The last sex I had was a blow job in the ladies after closing, in exchange for a couple of drinks, from some poor bitch who couldn't afford the price of a gin. That was months ago. Lately I think it's for pissing with.'

I didn't know why I was telling them all that.

‘My wife's moved to Scotland and taken my daughter. My car needs a re-bore, and sometimes I think I need one myself. I'm living a quiet life. I really don't need you lot to complicate it for me.'

‘You're breaking my heart,' said Chiltern. He went over to the filing cabinet, unlocked it with a key from a set he had in his pocket, and pulled open the top drawer. From inside he took out a small cardboard box that he brought over to the table. He took off the lid. From inside it he pulled a pair of disposable plastic gloves and put them on. Then he produced an automatic pistol. He removed the clip and put it back in the box. It was empty. He cleared the breech and placed the gun in front of me. I looked at it gleaming dully in the light. It was a Colt Commander Light Weight. But rather a special one. It had ivory grips with a ‘Colt' motif monogrammed on them in gold. The sights were special high profile, and it had ambidextrous safety catches.

‘Nice,' I said. ‘Special edition?'

He didn't bother to answer. ‘Pick it up,' he said.

‘Why?'

‘Because I say so. Pick it up. You
are
right-handed?'

I nodded.

‘In your right hand,' he said.

I did as I was told. It felt good. Smooth in the hand, with no sharp edges.

‘Do you know how to dismantle it?' he asked.

I nodded. I'd used one before.

‘Do it,' he said.

Again I did as I was told.

When I had the component parts in front of me, he said, ‘Put it back together again.'

I did that too.

When I'd finished, he picked it up and put it back in the box. Then he reached in and took out the empty clip, six .45 acp shells and an empty cartridge case: .45 acp again.

‘Pick up the case,' he said.

It was just a brass cartridge case. I held it in my hand, then put it back on the table. ‘Now load the clip with the rest of the bullets,' he said.

Nothing to it.

He took the clip from me, slid it into the butt of the gun, put the gun and the cartridge case in the box, the box back in the cabinet, and re-locked it.

‘Thanks,' he said pleasantly. ‘That gun killed one of our team. Whoever did that had cleaned it thoroughly before it was used. Then he wore gloves. There wasn't a print on it. Now there are.
Yours
. All over it.
And
we have the bullet that killed our man.'

‘Forensics and ballistics,' I said. ‘Inexact sciences both.'

‘But combined they could put you away for fifteen years minimum.'

‘Come on,' I said. ‘That gun's special. Can't you trace ownership?'

Chiltern shook his head. ‘It was stolen from a gunsmith in New Cross a year ago. Close to your manor.'

‘Jesus Christ! Give me a break,' I said.

He carried on as if he hadn't heard me. ‘It was one of a pair,' he said. ‘Special order. Consecutive serial numbers. That one's got the lowest number.'

‘So I'm a shop-breaker too?'

‘You could have bought it in a pub.'

‘And what about its mate?'

‘Never turned up,' he said.

‘Perhaps it will one day.'

‘Perhaps it will.'

‘And what happens if I have an alibi for the time your man was killed?'

‘It was four in the morning. If you're living the kind of quiet life you claim, I'll bet you don't have one,' said Chiltern triumphantly.

‘Do you think I'm going to sit still for something like that?' I asked.

‘You'll have no fucking choice, son,' he said.

‘Endesleigh,' I said, ‘are you going to let this happen?'

‘What?' He said. ‘I don't know what you're talking about.'

‘I thought you were straight.'

He shrugged.

I smiled a bitter smile. ‘I forgot,' I said. ‘No one's straight, are they? Not even the incorruptible Detective
Chief
Inspector Endesleigh.'

‘Two dead coppers in two weeks,' he said. ‘I'm not losing any more, and I don't care what I have to do to prevent it. You've been sailing close to the wind for years. Now the rent's due. Now you've got to pay or play.'

I took another of Brady's cigarettes from the packet, and he lit it for me. ‘I'd like to see you try and make me,' I said.

‘I think that can be arranged.'

‘How?'

‘I don't really think it'll be much of a problem. We have the gun.' He gestured towards the cabinet. ‘And your past record. You're a shooter, Nick – and a drug user. It's all in the records. Our man was in the drug squad, and he was shot.'

I stifled a yawn. He didn't like that, I could tell from his expression. ‘Motive,' I said. ‘I told you I'm leading a quiet life.'

‘We can give you a motive,' said Chiltern. ‘You decided to earn some serious money. It went wrong.'

‘Bollocks. That'll never hang together.'

‘Perhaps this will help,' said Endesleigh. He took something out of his jacket pocket and placed it in front of me. It was a bank account passbook. A deposit account. ‘Take a look,' he said.

I picked up the book. It was a Middle Eastern bank. The Mayfair branch. Very upmarket. I opened it. The account was in my name. I thumbed through the pages and looked at the entries. They stretched back five years. Regular deposits and withdrawals. Big ones. Very big. At least two a month. For the first time I realised they were serious. Deadly serious. I didn't like it.

‘This will never work,' I said. But the words sounded hollow even to me. ‘I've never been near this bank.'

‘There's staff there will swear you have.'

‘I don't believe this.'

‘Believe it.'

‘I'll go higher.'

‘Are you going to write to your MP? Or were you thinking of someone in the job? You haven't got a hope. And if you're thinking of appealing to Superintendent Fox, your old mate – don't bother. He's got problems of his own.'

‘What kind of problems?'

‘You don't want to know. Just take my word for it.'

‘And don't think about doing a runner,' said Chiltern. ‘We've got this.'

Brady pulled my passport out of his jacket pocket. ‘You should be more careful with it,' he said.

‘And we know where your daughter is,' said Chiltern.

I went for him then. Straight across the table in a flying tackle which ended up with us both on the floor. Me on top. I managed to get in one good solid whack before Brady kicked me in the kidney and dragged me up by the hair. Chiltern would have finished the job if Endesleigh hadn't said, ‘Leave it.'

Chiltern didn't want to. He massaged his jaw where I'd hit him. ‘I'll remember that,' he said.

‘Do,' I said. ‘And threaten my daughter again, and I'll give you plenty more to remember.'

‘I said leave it,' said Endesleigh. ‘Nobody was threatening your daughter, Nick. He was just letting you know that we know all about you. Now, settle down and be reasonable.'

I didn't have much choice. Brady was stronger than he looked. He put an arm-lock on me and dropped me back in the chair. I didn't say anything, just sat and glowered.

‘Well?' said Endesleigh.

I had to go along with them. I didn't have much choice. Not then. Not there. But they couldn't keep me there forever. ‘Tell me about it,' I said.

7

B
rady made more tea. It was 5.05 by my watch when Endesleigh started. ‘There's some extremely nasty people round south London these days,' he said.

Tell me something new, I thought.

‘The particular ones I'm referring to sell coke. Some of it goes for crack. Some is sold as plain charlie. For injecting or smoking or snorting.' As if I didn't know. ‘The particular wholesalers we want go to your bar. We know them.
You
must know them. You are going to become good friends. You can regale them with some stories of your past experiences. They'll relate to that. You're going to let them know that you're still involved with people who deal cocaine. We want you to discover exactly what they do – either by accident or because they can't wait to let you know that you're all part of the same great fraternity of scumbags. You, of course, will be amazed. Small world and all that. You'll volunteer to put one party on to the other. Then you're going to make a buy. Ostensibly for your coke-dealing friends. Just a small one at first. To test the water as it were. Then a big one. A very big one. We'll supply the cash for both deals. We'll have details of every note. When the buy's done, we'll nick them. Simple.'

‘What about me?'

‘You'll be nicked, too.'

‘Oh good. Then I'll end up on remand. Probably in the same shovel as the wholesalers. We might even meet when we're slopping out. They can do for me, and you'll have them for murder.'

‘It won't come to that,' said Endesleigh. ‘You'll get bail. They won't.'

‘Yeah? Then their pals come calling one dark night. Just like your pals here did tonight.' I looked at Brady and Chiltern. ‘And I'm just as dead. They'll check. They'll find out that you and me know each other…' I drew my thumb across my adam's apple in the age-old gesture.

‘Don't worry. You'll be safe,' said Endesleigh.

‘Oi!' I said. ‘Remember me? I used to be in this game. I don't want witness relocation. I'm happy where I am: South London, where all the nasty people live. The chip-on-the-shoulder merchants. I like it here. I fit in. I don't want to end up in Welsh Wales or the bloody Orkneys under a false name.'

‘It won't come to that.'

‘Sure.'

‘Sharman, you were a lousy copper. But you needn't have been.'

‘I could have been a contender.'

‘Don't be smart. You could have been
the
contender. But no. You lied. You stole. But that wasn't the worst thing. You betrayed your fellow officers. That was the worst thing. You took the piss. You spoiled weeks' worth, even years' worth of honest coppers' work. Because most of us
are
honest. And that's a fact. We do a job against odds that would make most men weep. We just get on with it. Well, it's payback time. You owe something, Sharman. And we're the bailiffs. So put up or be banged up. You're well overdue, my son. And from what we can see, there's no one left to miss you. You've finally run out of people to use. What goes round comes round, matey. Now it's our turn to use you.'

‘At least you're not appealing to my finer feelings.'

‘I didn't think you had any.'

What a charmer, I thought. ‘Nice,' I said.

‘We're not talking nice. We're talking real.'

‘Looks like I don't have much choice.'

‘I'm glad you're beginning to see it my way.'

I sat there and smoked another of Brady's cigarettes. My throat was as rough as an emery board, and my mouth tasted bad. I felt like an animal caught in a trap. I looked around the room, at the three faces. ‘And when it's all over, what guarantee do I have that you'll leave me alone in future?' I asked.

‘None,' said Endesleigh. ‘You'll just have to trust us.'

‘Is that supposed to make me feel all warm inside?' I asked.

The three of them just looked at me, and no one said a word.