Authors: Tania Carver
‘H
ow we doing?’ asked Imani. She was staring at the screen alongside Elli, both of them scanning footage from the Malmaison.
‘Did you nod off?’ asked Elli, eyes affixed to the screen, smile on her face.
‘All these hotel corridors look alike,’ Imani said. ‘It’s like watching a twenty-four-hour version of
The Shining
, except that nothing happens.’
‘I saw something like that once,’ said Elli, eyes never leaving the screen.
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Well, it wasn’t
The Shining
but it was
Psycho
. A twenty-four-hour version of
Psycho
.’
‘Jesus…’
‘It was art. Or meant to be art.’
‘How was it art?’
‘This guy, this artist, had slowed the film down so that it lasted exactly twenty-four hours. All in slow motion. Incredibly slow motion.’
‘Oh.’ Imani knew Elli was the resident geek and counter-culturalist on the team, but she looked at her colleague as if there was nothing more she could say that would surprise her. ‘And… did you enjoy it?’
‘Nah, not really. Preferred the original.’
‘Good to hear.’
They went back to watching the screen.
More corridors. The lobby. More corridors. Imani yawned again.
‘How far back do these go?’ Imani asked.
‘We’ve got the day before, too. If that woman came there, checked in, we should be able to catch her.’
Imani took out her notepad.
‘What you doing?’
‘Just making some notes. Trying to find a timeframe to help us. What time did the call come in to Phil? What time was it logged?’
Elli ran her fingers over the keys, another screen momentarily appeared. ‘Six oh three,’ she said.
‘Right. And he said he was far away by then. That we’d never find him.’
‘Yup.’
‘So how did he get away? And when did he get away?’
‘Before then, presumably.’
‘Exactly. Elli, where do these cameras extend to? Just inside the hotel or outside?’
‘There are none outside.’
Imani sank back in her seat. She had become momentarily excited by her hypothesis. ‘Shit.’
‘But I did pick up the ones for the car park underneath.’
Imani turned to her. Elli was smiling.
‘Then why aren’t we looking at them?’
‘Because the boss told us to check the hotel footage. The car park, strictly speaking, isn’t part of the hotel. I had to put a separate requisition in for their footage.’
‘And you’ve got it?’
‘Yup. Was going to watch it after we’d finished all this.’
‘Well, I think the boss will also reward our initiative if we decide to look at this first, don’t you think?’
Elli frowned. ‘Give me a minute.’
She stabbed more keys and the screen image disappeared. Imani had always liked Elli. She wasn’t typical police material, which made her company all the more appealing. Imani could see why Phil wanted her there. They had a lot in common. Or rather, they had more in common than they realised. Both were given a certain amount of leeway in their dress sense but that was because they both got results and claimed their appearance helped them. And neither conformed to the stereotypical image of a copper yet they were both attracted to the job and had even managed to carve a successful niche for themselves in it.
There were other aspects that weren’t so similar. Elli was Indian and from a strict religious background. She was rebellious in her outlook with her piercings, skin ink and dress sense, yet she could be quite conservative in her views. Imani found the juxtaposition appealing.
‘Here we go,’ said Elli. ‘Got it. I’ll just…’ The screen showed the car park under the Malmaison. Well lit, low ceilinged. Full, as usual. ‘What time did you say?’
‘He called the boss at six oh three.’
‘Six oh three…’ Her fingers played over the keys once more and the screen speeded up, went in reverse, slowed down. ‘Right… Give it an hour or so… Here we go. Let’s start from here.’
‘You take those two,’ said Imani, pointing to the ones on the left. ‘I’ll take these.’
They began watching once more. The screen was split into quarters, each one showing a different part of the car park. People came and went. Cars drove in and out. Every time they saw someone pulling a case or carrying a holdall they became interested, jumping forward in their seats. Once they saw it wasn’t their target they sank back in watchful torpor.
This pattern continued until Imani jumped forward once more.
‘There,’ she said, almost shouting. ‘Stop it there.’
Elli did so, peered at the screen. It showed a woman, not unlike the one Glen Looker had been talking to the previous night, same height and build, pulling a suitcase behind her.
‘That her?’ said Imani. Her pulse was racing, heart pounding.
‘I think… Let’s go back.’
Elli’s fingers moved and the image moved in reverse. They watched again. The woman came into view once more. Elli paused the tape.
‘There,’ she said. ‘She’s about to cross the road. She has to look both ways and we can get a look at her face.’
Elli advances the tape slowly, frame by frame. The woman’s head turned slowly. Imani felt another race of excitement through her body.
‘Shit.’
The woman stopped short of fully turning, depriving them both of seeing her features.
‘She knows where the cameras are,’ said Imani. ‘She must do.’
‘Which means she’s been there before. Planned this. Which means there’s footage of her.’
‘Yes, but we don’t know how many days, weeks, months or even years ago she did it,’ said Imani. ‘Which means we have a lot of watching to do.’
‘Let’s have a look at her,’ said Elli. ‘Let’s see where she’s going.’
‘You sure it’s her?’ asked Imani.
‘As sure as you are. You saw her last night, what d’you think?’
‘I’d say it’s her.’
‘Right. Let’s watch.’
The woman walked away from the camera, still pulling the case. Something, thought Imani, didn’t look right about her. She couldn’t say what it was, just a feeling she got.
‘She looks… odd,’ said Elli.
‘Yeah, I know what you mean.’
‘Can’t put my finger on it, but… odd.’
She passed out of range of one camera. The other ones failed to pick her up.
‘Where’s she gone?’ asked Imani.
‘She’s parked somewhere where there aren’t cameras. She planned this.’
‘Where’s he, then?’ asked Imani. ‘There’s her leaving, but where’s he?’
‘In that suitcase?’ suggested Elli.
‘We’ll think about that later.’ Imani stood up. ‘Check the cars as they come out. See if you can spot her.’
‘Where you going?’
‘Back to my own desk. I want to run the guest names again. Compare Malmaison with the Radisson Blu. See if anything stands out. Keep at it. We’re on to something.’
Imani walked away. Elli looked back at the screen. Thinking of
Psycho
again had made her uneasy.
But still, watching that woman walk, she was sure there was something not quite right about her…
‘N
ot there,’ said Moses Heap, ending the call before it could go to voicemail. ‘I’ll text him.’ He had been trying to contact Glen Looker all morning. Before he had tried his mobile he tried his office. His secretary said she didn’t know where he was, with what sounded like a touch of fear in her voice, and didn’t know when he would be back. He didn’t want to press her on it, none of his business. Maybe they were having a thing, or something, and he had told her he was going back to his wife. Or girlfriend. Or whoever. He didn’t really know much about Glen Looker’s private life and didn’t much care. He just needed his help professionally now. It was an emergency.
‘I’ll text him,’ he said. ‘Tell him what’s happening.’
‘What… what is happening?’ asked Letisha.
‘You know what, babe,’ he said, thumbs working over the screen, ‘we’ve got to get away. Move out. Make ourselves scarce.’
‘Look, I know it’s dangerous, and all that, you said it was, but… can’t we just stay here? If we say —’
‘No.’ Text sent, he put his phone down, took Letisha by the shoulders. Not roughly but firmly. Looked right into her eyes. ‘You know what’ll happen. You knew what would happen as soon as you came to the studio.’
‘I didn’t know Tiny would be there.’
‘Why not? Think. It’s a truce. We’re supposed to be on the same side. Whatever suspicions he had about us long gone. Supposedly. Seeing you and me together again, for whatever reason, will start him off again, man. He hasn’t forgotten. Never would. And you know what he’s like. What he’s capable of.’
Letisha shuddered. She had seen, all right. Her head dropped.
‘Well, we can’t take that chance. We got to get out of the way. At least until things cool down again.’ He took his hands from her shoulders, put one gently under her chin, turned her face up to his. ‘Yeah?’
She smiled.
‘Okay. As long as, you know… You’re with me.’
‘I’ll be with you, babe.’
Despite the feeling of apprehension, of danger, Letisha felt more than a little glimmer of hope. ‘Then let’s go.’
They broke their embrace, Letisha going into the bedroom to pack.
‘What shall I take? What have you got?’
‘As much as you can carry. I just threw some stuff in a bag. Don’t know how long we’ll have to be away. Once we’re gone I’ll get Looker on the case. He can start negotiations for us to come back.’
Letisha stopped what she was doing, put her head round the door. ‘What if… y’know? What if he can’t or they won’t let us?’
Moses tried for a brave smile, for Letisha’s sake. ‘Then we’ll just see where we end up.’
She went back into the bedroom smiling. As she packed, putting what she thought of as her good clothes into a cheap, black, frayed holdall, she thought about his words
. See where we end up.
That sounded good. In fact, that sounded even better than them having to come back to Birmingham. Proper romantic. Just the two of them on the road, not knowing where they would go, what would happen. Turning their lives into one big adventure. Together. The more Letisha thought of it, the more she wanted that more than anything else.
She was starting to think that she was glad she had gone to see him, glad that this thing with Darren Richards had put Moses back in her life. Maybe it was fate. Meant to be. Karma. She didn’t know what that meant, not really, but she had heard it on telly and thought it sounded good. The way the people on the TV had been talking about it made it sound like for every bad thing that was done to you if you’re good you get a good one back. That sounded fine to Letisha. She had had that many bad things done to her over the years, she was owed a whole shitload of karma.
And then there was a knock at the door.
Letisha froze.
Another knock.
Letisha moved as quickly and as silently as she could into the living room. She stared at Moses who was staring at the door, his eyes wide with fear and horror. Neither moved.
Another knock. Accompanied by a voice this time.
‘Hey, Moses, know you’re in there. Car’s down here. Open it.’
Tiny’s voice.
Hearing the voice, Moses broke out of the spell the knocks had cast on him. He looked around frantically. He ran to the window, opened the doors. Letisha ran with him. The balcony was small, the distance to the ground huge. He looked along. The next balcony was a couple of metres away. He might make it if he jumped, but he might not. And Letisha might not.
He even thought that they could do a trick he’d seen in films where the hero – James Bond usually – hides from the bad guys by hanging underneath the balcony, only coming back up, pulling himself in when they had gone. Yeah, that was going to happen. That would work. No problems with that.
Another knock. Tiny’s voice: ‘I’m gettin’ impatient out here, man…’
Letisha was next to him, looking up into his face, eyes scared but trusting. She would have gone over the balcony if I’d asked her, he thought. She looks like she’s ready to follow me to the ends of the earth.
‘What do we do?’ she asked, her voice a frail whisper.
Moses sighed. ‘Let him in, babe.’ His voice spoke of resignation. ‘What else can we do?’
‘But… can’t we…’
‘We tried, babe,’ said Moses. ‘We tried.’
Letisha grabbed his hand. ‘I love you, Moses.’
He gave her a sad smile. ‘And I love you too, babe.’
Moses dropped her hand, went to answer the door.
‘S
o explain, then,’ the Lawgiver said, standing directly in front of Glen Looker, blocking out the light, making him Looker’s whole focus, whole world. ‘Explain. How can tolerating a small evil save us all from a larger one?’
‘You’ve never heard of that principal before?’
‘Well, obviously, yes. But I’ve never believed in it. It’s bullshit. There’s no such thing.’
‘Let me give you a small example,’ said Looker, his voice back in lawyer mode, as if he was addressing a room full of people who needed to be impressed by his opinions. ‘And, needless to say, this is an example that I was personally involved in.’
The Lawgiver waited, a malevolent shadow eclipsing the light.
‘Remember the gang wars?’ Looker asked. ‘The Birmingham gang wars? Only a few years ago, course you do. You must.’
‘Vaguely,’ said the Lawgiver. ‘Lot of black-on-black killings. The poor wiping each other out. It didn’t concern me much. The more of each other they killed, the less of them there would be walking the streets. Win win.’
‘Bullshit,’ said Looker, getting into his stride. ‘You know nothing. The gang wars tore this city apart.’
The Lawgiver bristled at Looker’s more dominant, aggressive change in tone but said nothing.
‘The Handsworth Boys? The Chicken Shack Crew? No? They tore the city up between them, blew people away. Kids with guns. Scared kids with guns. Don’t you remember all the innocent kids who got killed in the crossfire? Shot, knifed? Made all the papers, national news. Remember?’
‘Yeah, I remember.’
Looker gave a tight smile. ‘Well, I made it all go away. Or at least I helped to. Played a significant part, shall we say. In making this city more peaceful and safe.’
‘How?’ The Lawgiver’s voice was flat, emotionless.
‘There was this gang leader. Let’s call him Julian.’
‘Wilson,’ said the Lawgiver.
Looker smiled widely. ‘So you do know what I’m talking about.’
‘Just keep going.’
‘Okay. It was like this. He had a girlfriend. The number-one bitch in his stable of bitches. His words, incidentally, not mine. Well, this girlfriend was only with him because of what he could offer her. If we’re being honest. I’m sure she liked him, probably, but she liked what he gave her more.’
‘Jewellery,’ said the Lawgiver. ‘Material things.’ A sneer of contempt behind the mask.
‘Yes,’ said Looker, ‘to an extent. But more substantial things, too. A better life. A way out of the dead-end drudgery she’d been born into.’
The Lawgiver said nothing.
‘But there was a problem. While this girl was with Julian for what she could get, she fell in love with someone else. Really fell in love. Properly head over heels. And that was with the rival gang leader.’
The Lawgiver let out a harsh, grating sound. A laugh. ‘The Montagues and the Capulets.’
‘If you like. Now she wanted to leave him for this other leader. Let’s call him —’
‘Moses Heap.’
Looker laughed. ‘You know, you pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about…’
‘Someone from the Handsworth Boys killed Julian Wilson. We know that. Is this story going anywhere?’
‘If that’s what you think then you don’t know as much as you think you do. That is the official version of events. I know the real one. Listen up and I’ll tell you. Now, as I said, this girl wanted to leave. But she couldn’t. The trouble was, Julian found out about this. Now, I’m not saying this girl was the love of his life. He probably felt about her the way she felt about him. Good arm candy, willing in bed, that sort of thing. But he didn’t want to lose face, didn’t want her to go over to the enemy. He’d be a laughing stock. Severely weakened. So he tried to kill her.’
‘Tried?’
‘Tried. He should have got someone else to do it, one of his soldiers, but no. He wanted to do it himself. Except it went wrong. He tried to shoot her. There was a struggle. She got the gun off him. Shot him.’
‘And this is all true?’
‘All true. Now, not knowing what to, she called Moses over. They had a choice. Play it straight, throw themselves on the mercy of the police, tell them what happened, that it was self-defence and he was trying to kill her, then stick to the truth and take their chances with that through the legal system. A system that hadn’t been skewed in their favour up till now, I hasten to add. In fact, it had been actively biased against them.’
‘That’s what all the liberals say.’
‘Yeah, they do,’ said Looker. ‘Especially the ones who work in it every day. As I said, one way of doing it. The other way was to try to get out of it. That’s when they called me in.’
‘To do what?’
‘To stage Julian’s death, make it look like he was killed somewhere else, by someone else.’
The Lawgiver leaned forward, peering at Looker through the eye holes of his mask. ‘Why are you telling me all this? What do you hope to gain?’
‘What d’you think?’ said Looker, louder than he had intended. ‘You’re going to kill me, I’ve worked that one out. No matter what I say, what arguments I come up with, you’re going to kill me. I know that.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘I do.’ Looker laughed. ‘I know you better than you know yourself. So maybe I’m just getting it off my chest. One last confession.’
The Lawgiver stood back, blocking the light once more. ‘Keep going then.’
‘Fine. We staged Julian’s death. There are people I know, friends of friends really, who can do that kind of thing. I don’t call on them often, but, needs must…’ He attempted a shrug. Continued. ‘But while we’re getting this sorted, Moses decides he wants to use it for something else. Not just for him and Letisha – oh dear, I said her name.’
‘Keep going.’
‘Okay. Him and Letisha to get away with murder. He wants to make something of it. Use it as a springboard to bring peace between the two gangs. I told him it was risky, but he wanted to do it. So this is what he did. He approached Julian’s younger brother, Tiny, knowing he’d be the one to take over. Now Tiny’s a bit mental, bit unstable, so he has to tread carefully. He does. He tells Tiny that he’s sick of all the bloodshed between the two gangs, the violence. He wants peace. Tiny’s not interested. He wants blood. Moses tells him that if he can find out who was responsible for Julian’s death – because the order hadn’t come from him – find out and deal with it, will Tiny sit down and talk? He says he will.’
‘So he killed one of his own men.’
‘No. He found one of his gang who was willing to take the rap for it. But he didn’t kill him. This is where I came in again. Again, friend of a friend… So this gang member gets a new identity. And money. He’s not dead, just living in Runcorn. Which, admittedly, some would say is the same thing.’
The Lawgiver said nothing.
‘Now obviously, Tiny must never know. That it was Letisha who killed his brother and that the person he thought responsible isn’t dead. And that Moses lied to him. If he found out, the peace would be over. If Moses and Letisha even see each other again then Tiny would suspect. He’s never fully believed Moses but he’s gone along with it.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he can see how beneficial peace is as well. For everyone.’
Looker sat back. Or attempted to. ‘So there you go. A small evil covered up for the sake of a much larger good. Not really evil, in fact, just a messy accident that couldn’t be reported. So what d’you think, Lawgiver?’ Looker seemed to relish saying the name. ‘Where does that fit in with your philosophy?’
The Lawgiver said nothing. Just stared at him.
Looker smiled. ‘Right. That’s me done. Do with that what you like, it’s in your hands now. So fair’s fair. I’ve shown you mine, you show me yours. I want you to tell me about Diana.’
The Lawgiver stared at him. The staring went on so long that Looker began to tremble, feeling he had gone too far. Then the Lawgiver did something Looker hadn’t expected. He ripped off his mask.
Looker had no idea who he was. Although his eyes looked smaller, his face more nondescript, he kept staring.
And that was when Looker realised.
I’ve seen his face.
I’m not going to walk out of here alive
.