To Kill For (7 page)

‘Mike?'

‘Some old friend of Kenny's.'

I thought about the second man in the car at Lee Valley, the one who'd run from my sights.

‘What's Mike's surname?'

‘Glazer.'

‘You know where he lives?'

She shook her head, her lips tightening in a frown.

‘And I don't want to know. About either of them. I made a mistake years back, with Kenny. I was young and stupid. He was flash, throwing the cash about. I always knew he wasn't legit, but I never thought he was so… so vile, you know? I think I didn't want to know. I thought I was going to live in a mansion. Look at me.'

‘You don't know where Paget is?'

‘No. I don't.'

Paget was going to be hard to find, but I might have more luck if I went after this Glazer. If, that was, Glazer was the second man.

‘You got a photo of Glazer?'

‘No.'

‘He's average height, stocky, shaved head?'

‘He's fat and bald, yes.'

So, I had him. The other man. Paget's accomplice. I looked at the pictures of the kids on the wall. If Paget had family, he might be vulnerable.

‘These kids, are they yours and Paget's?'

‘No.' She snapped the word at me, using it like a weapon, and her eyes sparked anger. She'd come alive for a moment, then the fury seeped away. ‘No, they're not his. I met someone else. He had a couple of grown-up children. He… he's gone .' She tilted her head at the photos. ‘They're the closest I've got to a family, and they're not even mine. They never visit. They just send photos. Every time one of them has a new kid, they send a photo.'

‘Got any ideas where I could find him? Glazer?'

‘I don't know anything about his life. He only came here because he was with Kenny. Kenny only came here because he wanted somewhere to stay for a while.'

‘Have you got anything of theirs? Any old address books? Photos? Letters? Anything like that.'

‘I've got nothing of theirs. Nothing.'

‘There was another man, with Glazer. Young, black.'

She nodded.

‘Saw him once or twice. Don't know him. Eric, something. Or Derek, yeah, Derek. Friend of Mike's. They never talked about things in front of me. They were hardly ever here.'

‘Where'd they go?'

‘Oh, shit. I don't know.'

She sighed and her head lolled backwards and rested on the cushions behind her.

‘Ah, Christ,' she said. ‘What a mess.'

She stared up at the ceiling, searching it for something, trying to see where everything had gone wrong. We listened to Browne snore. I felt tired, my head was fuzzy. I wanted to find a dark room and lie down. I wanted to stop.

‘Thank you,' she said to the ceiling.

‘What for?'

‘For what you did.'

‘I didn't do anything.'

She didn't hear me. She wasn't listening.

‘Must've been shock or something,' she said. ‘Didn't mean to take so many pills.'

It was as good an excuse as any.

‘Where do you think Paget went?'

‘I don't know. And I don't care.'

‘Give me something,' I said. ‘Anything.'

She looked back at me, and there was new fear in her face, like she'd just woken and was seeing me for the first time, seeing this hulking danger, lurking, waiting to strike. She pulled back, curling her legs further underneath, holding her arms more tightly about her.

‘You're one of his men,' she said. ‘You're one of his fucking men.'

‘No.'

‘You're one of Mike's fucking men.'

‘Mike's men? What does that mean?'

‘You are. You're one of them.'

She pushed away from me, scrambling backwards on the sofa, trying to get as far from me as she could, pushing herself back with her legs and arms. She was like a cat with its heckles up, claws out.

‘What does Glazer do?'

‘You're Cole's, then. This is a trick. What do you want? Who are you?'

‘I'm a man who wants to find your ex-boyfriend.'

‘Why? Who are you? Are you going to help him? Are you one of them?'

‘No.'

‘You're after the drugs, then.'

‘You've seen the drugs?'

‘That's it, isn't it? That's what you fucking want.'

‘I don't want anything from him.'

‘What do you want, then? What do you want? What the fuck do you want?'

‘I want to kill him.'

She stared at me, her mouth open, her face white, her eyes wide. She was panting, and her hand was twisting the life out of her dressing gown.

‘Yes,' she said. ‘Kill him. Kill him.'

Browne said, ‘It's to do with this man, Paget, isn't it? All this.'

The sky had lightened some, but not enough to give any depth to the buildings. We sat there, in the car, not saying anything, whirring down the road with grey above and grey around and grey between us.

There was something wrong with the woman. I thought it must have been delayed shock, or trauma or something like that, but I'd seen enough of that before and her reaction didn't fit, she was too violent too quickly. If Browne hadn't been there, I could've squeezed her more. Browne would go so far for me, for old times and because he thought he owed me, but the moment I touched the woman, he would've been on the phone grassing me up to anyone who'd listen.

It didn't matter. What I needed to know right then was about this Glazer character, and that information I could get from someone else: Derek.

So, I'd drop Browne off back at his place then make a few calls to local hospitals. That was the plan, anyway. It wasn't much of a plan. For one thing, I didn't have a surname for this Derek. For another, if I turned up at a hospital and asked about a man with a gunshot wound, they'd call the law.

I switched on the radio and listened to the eight o'clock news. They mentioned a stabbing in Hackney and a drugs bust in Bermondsey. There was no mention of a shooting in Ponders End, nothing about a man being shot. That could mean Derek ran out of blood and was lying face down in Epping Forest. Or it could mean that it was too early for the report. I wondered if anybody had yet discovered the car. If it was still there, I might find something about Glazer or Derek inside it.

I pulled over. Browne looked out.

‘What is this godforsaken place?'

‘Chingford.'

‘And?'

I fished twenty from my pocket and handed it to him.

‘Get a cab.'

He sat there for a moment.

‘Did you see her arms?' he said.

‘What about them?'

‘Scars. Old puncture scars.'

‘She was a user?'

‘Once. What are you going to do?'

‘You know what I'm going to do.'

‘You're going to kill them. You're going to find Paget and anyone else who gets in your way or had anything to do with Brenda's death and you're going kill them all.'

‘If you know, why're you asking?'

‘I said once you'd been beaten by life. Remember?'

‘Yeah.'

‘I was wrong,' he said. ‘I mean, that wasn't right, not exactly. You haven't been beaten by it, Joe. You've been gutted by it. There's nothing left inside of you.'

‘What are you talking about?'

‘That woman back there. I don't know who she is. I don't want to know, but she was… Damn it, I don't understand this world any more.'

If he'd only just discovered that the world was a stinking pit of snakes, each turning on the others, there wasn't much I could do for him.

I said, ‘Are you telling me you don't want to be involved?'

‘For Christ's sake. No, I'm not saying that. Cole went to Kid's funeral. Then he does something like that to that woman. All you people, I just don't understand it. I just…'

He sighed. He didn't seem to know what he was trying to say. He didn't understand that there was nothing to understand.

He ran a hand wearily over his head, over the thinning grey hair, over the years of wasted effort and forgotten ideals. He wanted something; order or hope or just a reason, and I couldn't give it to him.

‘I know the bloke who did it,' I said. ‘If I get the chance, I'll fix him.'

Browne looked at me, gazing right into my eyes. I had the feeling he was trying to find something there, trying to find an answer, maybe. Finally, he turned and opened the car door and got out and walked away.

I pulled out and turned into Kings Head Hill. When I hit the top of the hill, North London lay before me, like a slug beneath a sluggish sky. The reservoirs were the colour of dishwater. Beyond them was Ponders End.

The traffic was getting heavy and it was another twenty minutes before I got to the site where, only a few hours earlier, I'd put 7.62 mil rounds into Glazer's car. By now there would've been people who would have seen the car. If I was lucky they wouldn't have paid any attention. The car would've looked just like a joy-rider's wreck. There were plenty of those around. It was possible, though, that someone had seen the bullet holes and called the police.

I pulled into the car park and cruised slowly, ready to turn and leave quickly. There was no law. There was no car. I found broken glass and, further along, dried blood on the concrete. But the car was gone.

What did that mean? Had Paget been watching us? Had he driven the car away afterwards? No, that didn't make sense. For one, he would've had to drive to Ponders End and that meant he would've had his own car to drive, he wouldn't have been able to drive two cars. Besides, if he'd been there at all, he would've tried to kill me. Of that I was sure. And he wouldn't have gone there afterwards.

Had Glazer waited around and gone back for the car? It was possible, but I didn't think so. Why would he risk it?

I got back in my car and drove over to Enfield. I stopped at a cafe and ordered fish and chips and coffee. I took a seat at the orange plastic table and tried to work out what that fuck was going on.

The first thing I did was call Cole and ask him if he'd sent his men back to collect the car. He said, ‘Why the fuck would I do that?'

I listened to the nine o'clock news. There was still nothing about the shooting, nothing about this Derek. Had Carl lied about dumping him in Epping Forest? If Derek had been picked up from there, or anywhere near there, he would've been taken to Whipps Cross Hospital or maybe to the Princess Alexandra in Harlow. I phoned both places and told them I was a newspaper reporter who'd been given a lead. Neither one had treated a gunshot wound overnight.

I thought about things, as much as I could with my head all over the place. Paget had gone to ground. He was going to be a bastard to find. Plus, Cole was after him and if I went after Paget directly, I'd have to deal with Cole's mob at some point. I wasn't sure I was in the state to take them all on. But I knew something they didn't, I knew that Paget had a cohort: Mike Glazer. He'd been at Paget's hide-out in Loughton, he'd gone armed to meet me earlier that morning. He'd know where Paget was. I had to concentrate on him. I had to at least find out who he was.

Something Tina had said was ringing bells in my head. She'd asked me if I was one of Glazer's men. Did that mean he was in the game in some way? I'd never heard of him.

I decided to call Nathan King. After a dozen rings, I heard a woman's voice over the line. She sounded sleepy. I asked for King. I heard the woman shout, ‘Nat, one of yours.'

After a moment, I heard King's deep slow voice wanting to know what kind of idiot would call him at this hour. I told him. He said, ‘Thought you'd be dead by now.'

‘You ever heard of Mike Glazer.'

‘No. Should I of?'

‘He's something to do with Paget. Partner or something.'

‘Well, I'm glad I know that, Joe. Next time I have Paget over for cocktails, I'll be sure and invite this Glazer.'

‘I need to find out about him.'

‘Yeah? Good luck.'

‘You know people. You could ask around.'

‘I could. Why would I? What I hear, you're up to your neck in shit right now. Cole on one side, Dunham on the other, Paget out there somewhere, them fucking Albanians running around shooting people. I don't want anything to do with that. If I start raising my head and asking about people involved in that, next thing I know,
I'm
involved in it.'

It was a good point. I said, ‘There could be something in it for you.'

There were a few seconds of static over the phone. Then King's voice rumbled through the static.

‘Such as?'

‘Paget's got a million quid's worth of stuff that belongs to Cole.'

‘Forget about it. We get hold of that and Cole will come after us with all guns blazing. We don't need that kind of grief. Besides, we don't deal in shit. You know that.'

‘If I get it before Cole does, he'll deal with me, say 10 per cent finder's fee. You two get to split it.'

There was a little more thinking about that.

‘I'll get back to you,' he said.

He rang off. He was going to call Daley and speak to him. They were careful, those two. When he called back, he said, ‘What's to stop Cole taking the stuff anyway?'

‘I'll plant it somewhere.'

‘Why would he pay up? It's his stuff.'

‘He'll be glad to get it back.'

‘We give you legit info, we each get fifty grand?'

‘Yeah.'

‘Okay, Joe. We'll see what we can do.'

I put the phone in my pocket. My head throbbed and felt clogged with unclear thoughts. The neon lights in the cafe were starting to eat into my eyes, and the glare from the plastic table was making me feel sick. The waitress came over and put a plate in front of me. I looked at the food: oven chips and breaded fish straight out of a frozen packet. I pushed the stuff away then thought better of it. It might be a while before I ate again. I drowned the fish in ketchup and forced it down and ordered another coffee.