Rider (13 page)

‘I am now showing Mr Rider a photograph taken in evidence from his personal belongings,’
Wilson
said for the tape. ‘Where did you get this?’

Kane glanced at
Clark
. ‘It was on one of Ryan’s cameras. I guess when
Dawson
searched my flat he was looking for printed documents, not photos.’

‘Do you know any of the people in this photograph?’

Kane nodded.

‘We need to hear you, Rider,’
Wilson
said. ‘For the tape.’

‘Yes,’ Kane said. ‘This is David. That’s
Dawson
.’

Wilson
pointed at the photo. ‘David who? Does he have a surname? That could be anybody.’

Kane closed his eyes. ‘Bernhard,’ he said. He thought it had been obvious. ‘David Bernhard.’

Indicating the other men in the photo,
Wilson
said, ‘And these two?’

‘
Dawson
’s men,’ Kane told him. ‘O’Reef and somebody.’

Clark
said, ‘Noonan. Darren Noonan and Mike O’Reef.’

Kane pushed his chair back a few inches, rested his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands. He was tired.

Wilson
checked his watch. ‘Okay, Mr Rider, let’s have five minutes. Interview suspended at eleven twenty-six.’

* * *

A few months ago, when spring was slowly giving way to an early summer, Kane and Ryan had spent the weekend at Margaret’s while she and David were in
Dublin
on business.

They had eaten an early dinner and drank a bottle of wine, and they had taken a second bottle out to the pool as the sun was tumbling down behind the distant horizon, their jeans rolled up to their knees, feet wading in the cool water.

They lay down and watched the first stars appear and Ryan made a wish. He leaned his head on Kane’s chest and said, ‘People are confusing.’ He was being philosophical.

‘You’re confusing,’ Kane laughed.

‘I know. That’s my point.’ He unfastened one of the buttons on Kane’s shirt and slid his hand inside, cold fingers against Kane’s warm stomach. ‘I wish I was psychic,’ he said.

‘Why?’ Kane asked.

‘So I could know what people are thinking.’

‘I thought being psychic meant talking to the dead.’

‘You know what I mean,’ Ryan said. ‘I could be a mind reader.’

Kane wrapped an arm around Ryan’s shoulders. ‘Whose mind would you read? There’s not much in mine that you don’t already know.’

‘I know everything I need to know about you,’ Ryan said. ‘But think about all the other people in the world. Who knows what they’re thinking, what they’re about.’

‘You’d want to read their thoughts just to find out?’ Kane asked.

‘Wouldn’t you?’

‘I don’t think we need to. I think what makes us human is the fact that we can get to know people in so many other ways.’

‘But you never really know them,’ Ryan said. He sat up, sighed, took another drink from his glass. ‘Fuck it,’ he said, and that was that, subject changed. ‘Get your kit off,’ he said.

They laughed like naughty children as they stripped naked and jumped in the pool, and they swam lengths side by side and splashed each other and Ryan let Kane take him at the shallow end.

Later, lying next to each other on a blanket, shivering in the night air and holding each other tight, Ryan said, ‘You know I love you, don’t you?’

‘Do you? I thought it was just lust.’

Ryan slapped Kane’s naked thigh. ‘That too,’ he said, then he pinched his lips together. ‘You touch me in ways no one else ever has.’ When Kane was about to say something witty, Ryan slapped him again. ‘If you’re going to be like that,’ he said, ‘you can bite me.’

‘I already have,’ Kane laughed.

Ryan stood and pulled his jeans on.

‘Hey, babe, don’t be like that.’

‘It’s okay,’ Ryan said. ‘I’ll get another bottle of wine and then I’ll kick your ass.’ He crouched, kissed Kane deeply, and went inside the house.

Kane put his hands behind his head and stared up at the night sky. Ryan’s philosophical moments weren’t just alcohol-induced. Lately, it seemed he could fade out of the real world into his mind without any notice or warning. Kane often had to repeat a question before Ryan would acknowledge him. It wasn’t so much a distance as a detachment, Kane thought, like he was pondering the laws of the universe.

Ryan was right, Kane thought. People are confusing.

* * *

After another hour of questioning,
Wilson
left
Clark
to finish up. When she took Kane through all the paperwork, she walked him to the front of the building and showed him out.

‘So you’re just letting me go?’ Kane asked.

‘Go home, Kane,’ she said.

‘What am I supposed to do?’

‘Get some rest. You look like you need it.’

He thought they all looked like they needed it. ‘But…
Dawson
,’ he said.

‘Yeah, off the record? Thanks for that.’

‘I didn’t do it.’

‘You were part of it, though.’ She sighed. ‘We were planning on bringing him in. That’s the official take. Unofficially, I’m glad he’s off the streets and not tying up our hands.’

‘David was his boss?’ Kane asked.

‘Associates,’ she told him. ‘
Dawson
worked for many people but was bossed around by none.’

Kane watched her as she put her hands in her pockets and stared down the street. ‘And what about David?’ he asked.

‘We have it in hand. We’ll find him.’

‘If he had something to do with Ryan’s death, I want to destroy him. Stab him the way Ryan was stabbed.’

She touched his shoulder. ‘If ever we need you to do that, I’ll get in touch.’

Kane looked around. ‘I can’t believe this is it. After all I’ve been through, this is it?’

‘Listen,’
Clark
said. ‘Hang up your spurs, cowboy. Your involvement stops here. Leave it to the professionals, okay? Don’t go chasing bad dreams. If you pursue this, I
will
arrest you.’

Her mobile phone started ringing and she unhooked it from her belt.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

Kane flatted his lips together. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Me too.’ And he walked away from her.

* * *

She watched him walking down the street and felt sorry for him. She knew it couldn’t have been easy for him, coping not only with the death of his partner but also the revelations that followed.

She brought her phone to her ear. ‘
Clark
,’ she said.

Wilson
sounded like he was out of breath. She could hear his footsteps on stairs. ‘I’ve just spoken to the guys on the street,’ he told her.

‘What’s happening out there?’

Kane was almost out of view now, his shoulders slumped, his gait slow and meaningless.

‘They’ve found him,’
Wilson
said, referring to Bernhard. ‘He’s on the move.’

‘Where is he? Where’s he headed?’

‘They’re tailing him now. He’s going west.’

‘On his own?’
Clark
asked.

‘He’s with three other men. One they recognise. The other two are just shadows. Intel has it Bernhard knows someone’s in town.’

‘Rider?’ she asked. How could he possibly know?

Wilson
said, ‘Bingo. I want him disappeared.’

There was another voice on the phone then, someone passing by. ‘Not now,
Dixon
,’
Wilson
said. ‘I’m in a hurry.’

Clark
laughed. ‘Kick him for me,’ she said. ‘He still owes me for that bet last month.’

There was a brief exchange between
Wilson
and
Dixon
before
Wilson
said to
Clark
, ‘I want him in a safe house.’

‘I’ve just let him go,’
Clark
said.

‘You’ve what? Get him back.’

Clark
started running down the street before he’d even said it. ‘I’m on it,’ she said and she ended the call.

Kane was walking the few short streets back to the B&B so he could pick up his things and think about heading home again when he heard, some distance behind him,
Clark
’s voice calling his name.

He turned towards her and saw that she was running as fast as she could.

‘Kane!’ she shouted again. She stopped in front of him, not even remotely out of breath. ‘You've got to come back.’

‘What?’

‘Bernhard’s on the move. He knows you’re here.’

‘How?’ Kane asked. He looked around the street as though David would come strolling up towards him at any minute.

When they got back to Interpol Headquarters, Clark led him up to
Wilson
’s office. As he sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk,
Wilson
was on the phone. ‘Just keep me posted,’ he was saying. ‘Stay on him.’

He slammed the phone down and
Clark
asked, ‘Where?’

‘What’s going on?’ Kane asked.

Wilson
ignored him. To
Clark
, he said, ‘Embankment. They’re still moving.’

‘Who’s his tail?’

‘Mickey Brown,’
Wilson
said. ‘He won’t lose him.’

Kane watched the exchange between the two detectives, only half able to follow the words. How could David know he was in
London
?

Wilson
looked at him, sighed. ‘You have no idea what you’ve got yourself into, have you? We’ll put you in a safe house, away from harm. Bernhard won’t find you.’

‘He’s actually looking for me?’ Kane asked.

‘
Dawson
’s dead and the news is out. He knows his wife took a hit, too.’

‘What’s he doing now?’ He looked from
Wilson
to
Clark
.

‘Coming after you, no doubt,’
Wilson
said.

Kane shook his head. ‘Why isn’t he going home?’ he asked. ‘If he knows Margaret’s in hospital—’

‘He’s too shrewd for that,’
Wilson
told him.

‘But he loves her.’

‘Collateral damage,’
Wilson
said. ‘If he does love her, he’ll send her flowers when he’s finished his business here.’

Kane stood and curled his fingers into fists. ‘You still haven’t told me what’s going on.’

‘Sit down,’
Wilson
said.

Clark
said, ‘It’s best if you don’t know.’

* * *

The safe house, a ground floor flat in a nondescript street in
Central London
, was run down but serviceable. It was one of eight houses that Interpol currently utilised throughout
London
and the Home Counties, under authority from the Met. In truth, it appeared more of a storage hold than a welcoming home, but as Clark opened the door and allowed the afternoon sunlight to fill the living room, dust mites dancing in the air current, she nodded almost to herself, and said, ‘It’ll do for now.’

Kane and PC Burton—lending a watchful eye from the Yard—stepped in behind her.

‘You really think he’s coming after me?’ Kane asked, looking around at the grotty flat.

‘You want to take that chance?’
Clark
said. ‘
Burton
, put the kettle on, will you?’

‘Yes, ma’am,’
Burton
said and went to the small kitchen off the living room.

‘You can’t keep me here,’ Kane said.

‘It’s for your own protection.’

‘You said I wasn’t under arrest.’

Clark
pulled a dust sheet from the sofa and dropped it in a corner. ‘You’re not,’ she said. ‘But we still have the power to hold you. I can arrest you if it makes you feel better.’ When Kane was about to protest,
Clark
added, ‘Look, we’ll take Bernhard out soon. Until then—’

‘Take him out?’ Kane asked. ‘Kill him?’

Clark
smiled ruefully. ‘No. If only we had the authority to dispose of the bad guys, our job would be a hell of a lot easier. He’s too important to have him in a body bag.’

Kane sat on the sofa and picked at a thumbnail. ‘The man’s a bastard,’ he said. ‘How could he keep this secret life from everyone?’

Sitting down beside him,
Clark
said, ‘Everyone’s got secrets, Kane.’

‘Drugs,’ Kane said.

‘Excuse me?’

Kane shook his head. ‘Ryan had a secret. He was jacking up on heroin and I didn’t have a clue.’

Clark
looked away from him, chewed her lower lip.

‘What?’ Kane asked. She ignored him, adjusted the cuffs of her jacket sleeves. ‘What?’ he said again. ‘You can’t tell me he wasn’t doing drugs. I saw the coroner’s report.’

She looked at him. ‘Kane.’

‘Tell me.’

Clark
stood, sighed, walked away from the sofa to the old gas fire in the brace wall, and walked back to him as she spoke. ‘It’s true they found heroin in his system during the autopsy. But it wasn’t what he wanted. Not that.’

‘It never is, is it?’ Kane said. ‘But I didn’t know. How could I not have known?’

‘He did his best to keep it from you.’

Kane stared at her, looking up from his seated position. ‘How well did you know him?’

Clark
sighed again. ‘NCB have been in contact with him for nearly six months.’

‘Six months?’ The idea that Ryan had been involved in this subterfuge for so long both shocked and confused him.

‘He was a good asset,’
Clark
said. ‘He shouldn’t have been, but he was.’ She sat back down beside him, watched his face. ‘The heroin…It wasn’t his fault. You have to understand that.’

‘Go on.’

‘Jesus, I’m going to lose my job here,’
Clark
said. She pinned a strand of hair behind an ear. She looked towards the kitchen, making sure Officer Burton was still out of ear shot, and she lowered her voice. ‘I’m only telling you this because—look, I’m doing you a favour. You have a right to know.’

Kane kept quiet, listened intently.

‘About four months ago,’
Clark
said, ‘Bernhard knew Ryan was on to him, but he didn’t know how deep he’d gotten.’

‘How deep did he get?’

‘Deep enough,’ she said. ‘Listen to me, Kane. David Bernhard had Ryan injected with it. With the heroin. It was never much, just enough to give him a taste. They threatened him with larger doses, lethal doses.’

Kane closed his eyes and listened to her voice as she told him what Ryan had relayed directly to her—the warehouse, Dawson, O’Reef, the heroin. When they knew he was getting too close to their dirty little secrets, they accosted him, strapped him into a chair in that dank storage unit in the middle of nowhere, tied a shoelace around his bicep to lock his veins and reveal them under the gloomy overheads, and stuck a needle in his arm.

Ryan had screamed, tried to thrash about, but they had tied him down and gagged his mouth. And they stood back, Ryan had told
Clark
, stood back and watched as he tripped off his face. He was dizzy, tingly at first, but a rush of warmth quickly consumed his whole body and his brain was buzzing and alert and he felt euphoric, he felt alive.

And the funny thing, Ryan had said, the absolute funniest thing, was that he could have sworn David Bernhard was standing in a recess, in the shadows, watching and smiling and smiling and watching.

And he felt alive.

And he felt fit.

And he felt happy.

When Kane opened his eyes again there were tears on his lashes. ‘Why?’ he breathed. ‘Why give him heroin?’

‘To keep him in line,’
Clark
said. ‘To stop him chasing their tails. He wouldn’t grass on the one man who could…’

‘Make him feel happy?’ Kane asked, sensing the irony. ‘Make him feel alive?’

‘Drugs are like that, Kane. That’s not who he was and you know it.’

‘So this whole thing,’ Kane said, ‘all this shit—it’s all about drugs?’

Clark
shook her head. ‘The drugs were just a sideline.’ She glanced at the kitchen again, realised
Burton
must have heard at least part of their conversation and was staying out of the way, and she said, ‘It’s weapons, mostly. This is one of the biggest cartels we’ve ever seen, operating out of more than twelve countries.
Mexico
,
Peru
, the
US
,
UK
,
Spain
—’

Kane stood. ‘Ryan was killed because of drugs and guns?’

‘No,’
Clark
said. ‘Ryan was killed because of Bernhard’s greed.’

‘He loved David.’

‘But he didn’t trust him. Not at the end. He knew too much. The heroin was a way to put him off, get him addicted so that he needed Bernhard to keep supplying it. We were arranging rehab.’

‘But why?’ Kane asked. ‘Why get him hooked on drugs? Why not just kill him when they found out he was on to them?’

‘We could speculate forever,’
Clark
said.

‘And you,’ Kane accused. ‘Why didn’t you stop it? Why’d you let him get addicted instead of pulling him out and saving his life?’

‘We didn’t know. He didn’t tell us about the drug-taking until it was too late. This is not a blame game, Kane. We did what we could with the information we had.’ She stood and touched his arm. ‘Believe me, if there was any other way, if he had told us from the start, we’d have fixed it. This is Bernhard’s fault. Ryan wouldn’t have started on the heroin if it wasn’t for him.’

Kane nodded, resolve in his eyes. ‘You have to let me help. I can get close to him. Reel him in or something.’

Clark
shook her head. ‘I can’t allow that. He knows you’re here and he’ll know we’ve got you. You’re not friendly any more. I’ve told you before, let us deal with it.’

‘I can’t just sit here and wait for it to be over.’

‘If you don’t just sit here,’
Clark
said, ‘it
will
be over—for you. I’m sorry, Kane, but there’s nothing you can do.’

They faced each other, staring hard, anger and frustration flashing between them.

When
Burton
came back into the living room, carrying a tray of mugs and a teapot, the movement at his peripheral vision broke the spell and Kane relented. He said, ‘I want my boyfriend back.’

‘I know,’
Clark
said. She touched his arm again. ‘I know.’