Dark Winter

28

Suzy was late. It shouldn’t have taken her so long. I was waiting against the Smith’s window with my shopping bags piled up at my feet, concentrating on the vehicles coming from my right on the one-way circuit round the square. While I looked out for Suzy, I took a mental note of every female driver of about her age, as well as the model of their car, its colour and registration number – anything to stop me thinking about Kelly.

I checked traser again and pulled out the moan-phone. ‘Where the fuck are you?’

‘Nearly there. Gimme two.’

I got out my own cell and dialled Josh, just in case they’d got back early. If so, I’d be waking the house – they were five hours behind. But all I got was his answerphone.

I spotted the Peugeot 206 first, a shiny silver thing straight from the showroom, then Suzy’s hair flying round as her head swung from side to side, looking for me. She saw me and swerved, her right hand on the wheel as her left changed down, and a cabbie hit his horn as he moved to avoid her. I stepped out on to the pavement and waved to her, then went back and gathered up my shopping.

I did a smily ‘Hello, how are you?’ as I opened the door and climbed in, dumping the bags in the back as she responded with her pleased-to-see-you routine.

‘Fucking traffic.’ She chewed hard on her gum. ‘We gotta get a move on.’

We nudged out into the flow, following the clockwise route round Sloane Square, and immediately had to stop at the lights. ‘Phone the boss, will you, Nick? Tell him what’s happening. I waited in case he wanted to talk to you.’

‘Can’t you do it?’

‘What – and break the law?’ She lifted both hands from the wheel. ‘Go on, you like him, really.’

I pulled out the moan-phone from the bumbag and dialled.

He answered with a gruff ‘What?’ The Yes Man had only wrong sides on his bed, and the moan-phone lived up to its name.

‘It’s Nick.’

‘Well?’

‘We’ve got a meet in just under an hour. We’re on our—’

‘Call me back when you’ve finished with him.’ The phone went dead.

‘There, you see?’ She shrugged her left shoulder and lifted a hand. ‘That didn’t hurt, did it?’

I didn’t answer, instead concentrated on putting the moan-phone back in the bumbag.

‘Just because I’m right. Anyway, what did he say?’

‘We’ve got to call back with a sit rep afterwards.’

She checked her watch. ‘I brought all the kit with me – there’s two ops bags in the back. I reckoned it’s better with us than back at the flat. Another blast from the past, eh?’

She was talking about the stuff that sat in the back of our cars when we went out on ops with the Det: a set of Gore-Tex, including boots, warm-weather kit, wellington boots, Mars bars rewrapped in clingfilm to cut down on noise, and a weapon. A lot of us chose the G3, a 7.62 assault rifle with a fixed butt so you could take good, sturdy, long-range shots, rather than collapsible stocks that tend to move about. It would have been my weapon of choice for this job, too, but the SDs in the boot would do just fine.

We left the square and headed east. Suzy nodded as we drove by Victoria station. ‘Look, they’re busy again.’ Parked at the roadside ahead of us were two unmarked police cars. The occupants looked nonchalant enough, but the sunlight glinted on the blue lights hidden behind their plastic radiator grilles.

I hit the radio and got a phone-in about post-conflict Iraq. Suzy powered down her window. ‘Were you in Gulf War One?’ She spat out the gum. ‘You know, with the Regiment?’

‘Yeah, looking for scud and stuff. It was the last time I wore NBC kit. Even then I wasn’t too sure what to do with it.’

The window got powered up and she laughed. ‘Come on, you know how to use this shit, don’t you? You want me to—’

‘I know – sort of. Not that it mattered much then. I reckoned that if I was in the middle of getting zapped with anthrax or whatever, trying to pull one of those things on was definitely shutting the stable door after the horse had bolted.’

‘But they work.’

‘Sure, but the fucking things also start to fall apart after a day. The only benefit I ever got from mine was that it kept me warm at night. But this time,’ I levelled my hand above my head, ‘I’m going to be up to here in charcoal and rubber.’

Twenty minutes later we found a parking space in Smithfield. I pumped in enough coins to take the whole two hours on the meter while Suzy put my shopping bags with the rest of the kit and locked up. The congestion charge wasn’t a worry for us because the cover company paid a yearly fee, but getting towed away would ruin our day. Those guys just slap on a ticket and the tow truck is there in quick time. We both double-checked inside the Peugeot before moving off.

‘Same as before?’

She nodded, extracting some more gum from her bag, and I dialled her phone to check comms. She pushed the hands-free into her ear and I waved her goodbye with a smile as we passed Starbucks and she went inside. There were fifteen minutes to go until the RV.

The pub wasn’t as packed as last time. I got myself a Coke, and could hear the Starbucks espresso machine gurgling and gasping in my ear as I headed for a seat back from the window. Over the sound of soft violin music Suzy ordered two cappuccinos. A minute or so later she sparked up. ‘Hello, I’m facing the main door, half-way up on the left.’

‘That’s me in position too.’

With three or four minutes to go a familiar face came out of the station and turned left, towards me. ‘Hello, stand by, Navy is here, same jacket on jeans. Approaching Turnmill.’

‘OK, that’s great, I’ll see you soon, then.’

Navy crossed the junction and looked into the pub as he passed. At that moment, things got even more interesting. ‘Here we go, Suzy. Our man is out of the station, towards me, same raincoat, now on. Grey is behind him, still suede on jeans, crossing over the road. Both heading your way.’

‘Yep, got it, just seen Navy pass. See you soon.’

The source walked past the pub, doing a good job of blending in with the world around him.

‘They’ve just passed me.’

‘OK, I’ve got that.’ Suzy spoke as if she was chatting to her mum about the prices in Sainsbury’s. I could still hear the violin music, and also catch some loud Italian gobbing off over the counter as people ordered coffee. Then an edge of concern crept into her voice. ‘Why don’t you come and have your coffee now?’ Maybe she’d seen something.

‘You OK?’

‘Don’t trust him, that’s all.’