The Green Flash (42 page)

On the first floor were the offices. From under one door a light showed. I crept across and listened. Silence for a bit and then a snore. Comforting. Let sleeping dogs … Then someone coughed and struck a match. No doubt they took it in turns, one dozing while the other sat up. It was nearly half an hour before they would take their next promenade. We ought to be out of here in fifteen minutes.

Another room, empty except for some broken boxes. Then a room with what looked like word processors. A couple of snaps recording the brand names. It might still all be perfectly legal.

Out of this room and across the corridor, into a largish room that reminded me of the old Shona workshop in Isleworth. On a slab on the far wall two or three score of boxes of the familiar silver-faced pattern of Faunus and another lot of Charisma. I didn't need to see any more or even to take photographs. These perfumes had no business here. No one had farmed anything of ours out to this company.

Of course the workforce who came in every day would continue filling the bottles and sealing the boxes, unaware anything was wrong. They'd probably been doing Rubinstein last week – maybe quite legitimately. How would they know or care?

Camera back in hip pocket, take a sample box of Faunus and one of Charisma, stuff them into my other pockets. The lights came on.

A big square-shouldered ugly type. Sweater and slacks. Belted. In one hand the sort of truncheon that used to be laughingly known as a life-preserver. The biggest surprise was I knew him from Pentonville.

He'd been in the same time as me. Charley Something. Charley Elton or Ellis. A right bastard. One of the top four-letter men in the whole of that nick, which had more than its share.

Going straight. Or a different sort of crooked.

‘Ah,' he said. ‘Got you, me little buddy-boy.'

I crouched and said in a whining voice, ‘I was only looking round.'

‘You'll come and look around in my office,' he said. ‘What are you, a little nancy boy? Wait while I get the bulls.'

‘I've never been a hard man; my joustings with the law had never included street-corner thuggery; I'd done more fighting at Loretto than all the rest of my life; but things hadn't been sweet with me recently.

I went for him. I went head down and fists up. The truncheon thumped on my raised forearm; my weight took him back against the wall with a slam. I hit him with the torch, breaking it to splinters over his head. He collapsed but grabbed me round the waist; we rolled across the room and I came upwards, got him by the throat, bashed him again and again with the remnant of the torch. Blood on his head. Both hands now to his throat. I was losing the use of the left arm. His life-preserver was rolling on the floor, his eyes turning up in his head. He tried to knee me; I kicked back. His struggling began to stop.

A hand on my shoulder: ‘ Hey, guv! Creeping Jesus, that's
enough
! You'll croak the son of a bitch!'

Lights began to return to normal. Van pulled and pulled until my hands came away; helped me to my feet. Charley Ellis rolled over moaning but didn't try to cause any more annoyance.

‘I was 'alfway up when I heard the racket. Out of here double-quick!'

As we turned to the door the other guard showed up.

He was a shorter, fatter character than the first. He looked at us, both tall and masked, then at his partner rolling on the floor; he turned about very sharp and made off at speed down the corridor to his office. Van ran after him but the door slammed and the key turned just in time.

Van put his ear to the door. ‘Telephoning for 'elp. Les go.'

We went. My arm was numb now from shoulder to wrist, and Van had to steady me down the stairs. There was blood on my gloves but it wasn't mine. The camera must be broken, the way we'd rolled over on it, but the film should be all right.

‘It all depends, don't it, guv,' said Van as we got to the outside door.

‘What on?'

‘Whether they ring the roz or whether they've got more pals of their own nearby.'

I stumbled a couple of times on the way to the fence, but I realized from the way he was breathing that Van was the more afraid.

I

I took Van home and had coffee there and bathed my arm and did a few other running repairs – all, thank God, without waking Coral, who was ‘a light sleeper'; then I put my feet up on a chair and tried to rest my arm for an hour before going back to Dagenham. Van wanted to come with me, but for all his reformed life he still looked such an ex-lag to an expert eye that he'd have been a dead liability in any contact with the police.

Old antipathies don't die easy, and it was an effort even for me to push open the door of the station and ask for the officer in charge. Bud wanted things done and done at the double.

Detective Inspector Chalmers had just come on duty, and he saw me right off. Immense help to be a baronet! – suddenly you
realize
– it's as good as money in the bank. I was Sir David Abden, manager of the distinguished firm of Shona and Co., not some dissolute ex-public schoolboy frequenting a shady nightclub. And I'd come to provide evidence of a large-scale forgery business being carried on in their patch. Tactfully explain the provocations the firm had been suffering for months; as a result, two of my employees had taken the law into their own hands last night and broken into a warehouse nearby. This was unknown to me – clearly I wouldn't have sanctioned it – but the outcome had been a bull's eye. Exhibits: roll of film, two boxes of forged perfume, a Lancôme label and some consignment notes mentioning a number of other proprietary goods which it seemed unlikely this firm would be dealing in on a valid basis.

Chalmers was a stout chap, a bit short of breath – and likely short of temper if the need arose – but he cottoned on quickly. The roll of film was whisked away while I completed a statement and signed it. He did some telephoning and offered me more coffee, and the film came back developed and printed, and we looked at the results together.

He said: ‘Of course you know, Sir David, what we'd like to do now is keep the warehouse under observation for a few days.'

I said: ‘If they know the place has been broken into they'll rupture their guts trying to hide the evidence.'

The inspector's eyes flickered to what must have looked like a flowering anemone on my cheekbone. ‘Did you – did your men have to make the break-in evident? You were not able to cover your tracks?'

‘Afraid not. The alarm was given as they left.'

‘Too bad. By going in right away we stand much less chance of catching the principals.'

‘I see that.'

‘Also one other thing, sir. You do appreciate that yours is … well, call it a luxury trade, in which prices are somewhat artificially maintained by the top companies such as yourselves. We have to look on this not just from the point of view of stopping an alleged forgery but of bringing the forgers to book. Are you, for instance, absolutely certain that these boxes you brought out are forgeries and not copies? A different wording, a different spelling of a name and the magistrates would dismiss the charge out of hand. There's no crime in making fair copies. We would get rapped over the knuckles ourselves if we raided some firm which was doing a legitimate business.'

I said: ‘These are the same boxes we've found up and down the country during the last few months. The boxes are pretty exact copies, the perfume is a forgery.' He was going to say something but I went on: ‘But apart from that, look at these photographs. This one is a bit blurred, but I can tell you those are brake linings of some sort – probably from Taiwan. This case you can see here is full of consumer jeans – famous names – maybe made in Korea. And these – I wouldn't swear to it but they look to me like helicopter rotor hub bearings. It's
much
more a mixed bag than I ever dreamed. You may say it'd be hard to get rid of all this with the police watching, but I do know one man – I suspect he's got a hand in this somewhere – and he has a Houdini gift for spiriting things away when the police walk in.'

Chalmers pondered a moment more, rubbing his cheek. ‘All right, sir. I get your point. We'll obtain a search warrant right away. Where can we find you?'

He had the firm's address on the card, so I gave him my own address in Knightsbridge.

‘And the name of your two employees who collected the evidence?'

‘I don't want to give you that if you can get along without it. They were two young men who just looked on it as their duty.'

We stared at each other. I hadn't been so close to a cop for more than ten years, and it still didn't feel right. It's not a smell, it's an aura. Your skin prickles. I wondered if he had any reactions to me. If he had he didn't show them. ‘You've laid the information yourself, sir. We can leave it at that for the time being.'

‘I'd like my name kept out of it too.'

‘Any particular reason?'

‘I think I know some of the men concerned. They're members of a club I belong to in central London.'

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Like that, eh? Well, I'll use my discretion. At this stage it's hard to promise anything for certain. It greatly depends on what we find, doesn't it?'

‘And what you find depends on how quickly you go to find it.'

‘Could you give me the names of these friends of yours?'

‘They're not friends of mine, but I know them.'

I gave him the names. Fortunately it was my left arm and shoulder that were hurting and stiffening, and I hadn't had to use either during the interview.

II

Shona was back. She looked slim and dark and handsome, and I could have wrung her neck. She wanted to talk to me about an expansion she was planning for the Italian market, but I cut her short by telling her what had been going on.

‘But, David, that is wonderful! You have succeeded beyond my best hopes! But you took a risk. You have a bruise on your cheek! What will happen next?'

‘The police should be in the place by now.'

She waited. ‘And then?'

‘Then, unless the BF people are witch doctors, they won't have been able to hide everything.'

‘When shall we know?'

‘I've got Chalmers' private number to ring him about five.'

‘This is wonderful, David! Are you not pleased?'

‘I'm glad it's over.'

‘You have not injured yourself in some way?'

‘Nothing that won't heal in time.'

She came up to me. Her skin was still so clear and fine. ‘I have something in my medicine chest: a little unguent. Not one of our products but excellent to reduce bruising.'

‘Leave me alone,' I said.

She looked hard at me. ‘ Have I done something wrong?'

‘Good God,' I said ironically. ‘What could
you
do wrong?'

‘In this, nothing, I think. Do you wish to go home to rest?'

‘Yes.'

‘Does Erica know you have been on this mission? Is all well between you?'

‘Blissful,' I said. ‘Thanks for the recommend.'

‘What recommend? … Oh.' She stared at me again, then went over to her desk. ‘You have to be patient with her, David. This month – once this month is over – it will all be better again. You do realize how obsessed she was with the idea of going to Moscow?'

‘That came through to me in time.'

She sighed. ‘ I am sorry you are not in a good mood after so splendid a success. I have to thank you for all the trouble you have taken.'

‘Van Morris needs a rise,' I said. ‘A substantial rise. Be sure he gets it.'

I didn't go home but drove to the big garage near the South Kensington tube and saw the manager. I said I was willing to trade in the Jaguar for the Ferrari if the transaction could be put through in three days. He didn't hesitate to say yes.

When I finally returned to the nest my little lovebird was not there so I cooked myself bacon and eggs and made a fair job of one-handed eating. I was chewing the last piece of toast when she came in. The ponytail again today, with a green décolleté blouse and green Pucci pants.

‘Where the hell have you been?' she said. ‘ You've been out all night!'

‘I didn't think you'd notice.'

She put her Fortnum bag on the dresser. ‘ Not from anything you do while you're here, I agree. But since we cohabit …'

‘AWOL,' I said. ‘I know. I'm just finishing breakfast.'

‘It's after midday! Didn't she feed you? Or was it a he again?'

‘A he,' I said. ‘ We finished up rolling on the floor and I damned near strangled him. But you won't want to hear about my orgies.'

After a minute or so she said: ‘You've got a hell of a swelling on your face. Did you walk into a wall?'

‘That sort of thing.'

She took down the foil from where the pair were hanging and flexed it a few times.

‘Well, we didn't get anything.'

‘What d'you mean?'

‘In Moscow. Eliminated even before the semifinals!'

‘Good.'

‘Yes.' She dropped the paper on the table folded at the appropriate page. ‘Perverse and peevish satisfaction.' A few edgy feints and jabs in my general direction but I took no notice. ‘ Question is whether I would have done any better.'

‘You do yourself an injustice.'

‘Irony kills me, boy. Careful how you use it: this point is sharp.'

I got up slowly and began to put the dirty things in the sink. ‘I'm going to turn in for a bit. I've a few telephone calls to make at five, so I'll be on my way.'

‘Out again tonight?'

‘No.'

‘I suppose you're telling me the truth and it all ended in a terrible quarrel. Poofters fight like cats; I've seen 'em.'

At the door I said: ‘Oh, I've bought that car.'