Necrocrip (30 page)

Atherton thought a moment. It was frustrating to know so much and so little. He wasn’t even sure, though he had an idea, where his guv’nor’s suspicions were leading. ‘Are you sure he didn’t tell you the name of this other man?’

‘Quite sure,’ Mrs Lam said. ‘He was an English man, that’s all I know. When he spoke about him to me, Micky
used to call him something in Chinese which means White Tiger – I suppose because he was a powerful man. I think he didn’t want me to know the real name, so that I would not be able to betray him by accident.’

‘Very wise,’ Atherton said. Then, ‘Do you know how much Micky was to be paid for this last job?’

Her cheeks grew pink again. ‘He said two million dollars,’ she said with quiet pride. ‘American dollars, not Hong Kong.’ Atherton whistled softly, and she looked gratified. ‘He would be an important man with so much money. My father would have to listen to him then.’ She stood up. ‘Now I have to go. They will be waiting for me, and I must not make my father angry.’

‘I’ll walk back with you,’ Atherton said, rising also.

‘Please not. It will be better if I go alone. You will find Micky for me, won’t you?’

‘Yes,’ Atherton said, a little absently, his mind revolving the sum of money. Was it genuine? Was it a lie? And if so, by whom to whom? ‘Anything else you can remember, anything at all, please let me know. Particularly if you remember any names your husband might have mentioned.’

‘I will try,’ she said sadly, ‘but I am sure he did not.’

Pauline Smithers had known Slider since his first posting, was five years his senior, and had been one rank above him for the whole of their acquaintance; and that she was only a DCI proved how slow promotion had been for both of them. She had always had a soft spot for Slider, a fact he had known without knowing what to make of it. His own diffidence had led him to be careful of being too friendly with her, and it had been left to her to make all the running. Their present easy terms were a monument to both her perseverance and her tact. Whenever their paths had crossed, they had gone for a drink or a meal together. She had never met Irene, though she knew more about her than Slider would have realised he had told; Slider had no idea even whether Pauline was married or not.

She received his telephone call with cheerful caution.
‘Hullo, Bill! So what’s all this cloak-and-dagger stuff? Are you moonlighting or something? Some old pal looking for a divorce?’

‘Nothing like that. It’s just a line I’m following up, but there’s someone who doesn’t see eye-to-eye with me about it.’

‘In other words, you’ve fallen foul of Mad Ivan,’ she said wryly.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Oh come on, Bill, this is me! It’s all right, no-one’s listening. Actually, as soon as I heard he’d gone to your nick in Dickson’s place I thought there’d be trouble. He’s not your kind of guy.’

‘There isn’t any trouble,’ Slider said doggedly, and then, with a sigh, ‘Does everyone in the Met know about this bloke except me?’

‘Probably,’ she said cheerfully. ‘You’ve always had your nose to the grindstone. Makes it difficult to keep your eyes on the horizon at the same time. But Bill, really, are you all right?’

‘Yes, really,’ he said. The concern in her voice was both flattering and alarming. He didn’t want himself seen as a case for pity. He didn’t want other people discussing his problems, real or imagined. ‘All I wanted was a bit of information without letting the world know about it. It’s no big deal.’

‘Ah, yes, the information,’ she said lightly, going along with him. ‘I just love the way you threw that one at me. Ask old Pauline to find a man in Fulham who opened a shop two years ago. Don’t give her anything else to go on. No sense in making it too easy.’

‘You found him,’ Slider said, smiling. ‘I can tell by your voice. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.’

‘It was only your dumb luck,’ she said, and he could hear that she was smiling too. ‘There are two or three lads in our Department who are computer crazy, and when I threw the name at them casually, they threw it right back with an address and telephone number. Seems your Peter Ling has a weakness for coppers – gives us very generous discounts. It’s well known round our shop that if you want
anything in the computer line you go to Ling’s. He’s apparently very knowledgeable and has all the contacts. Can get you anything you want practically at cost.’

‘So it won’t have roused any suspicions, your asking?’

‘Not at all. It’ll just give me a reputation for liking to play with pc’s.’

‘I always knew that about you anyway. Give me the address, will you?’ He wrote it down. ‘Thanks, Pauline. You’re a prince.’

‘Dumb luck, as I said.’

‘Well thanks, anyway. We must get together one of these days – I owe you a drink at least.’

‘Any time. Just give me a ring.’ A faint pause. ‘Bill, is everything all right? I mean, with you generally? You can tell Aunty Pauline, you know.’

A pause of his own. ‘I wish I could. Maybe I will one day. When I’ve got this case out of the way. I could do with a friendly ear and a bit of female advice.’

‘Ah, I thought there was something! Well, the ear’s here and switched on, whenever you want it.’

‘I’ll give you a ring,’ he promised.

‘Bye then,’ she said, reserving belief. ‘And Bill – be careful.’

It was too late for Ling’s shop now – he wouldn’t get there before it shut. That would have to wait until tomorrow. The American end, though – given the time difference, it would be a suitable moment to make some telephone calls. What he needed was a phone in a quiet place where he could not be disturbed. He thought automatically, and then wistfully, of Joanna. In a brief spasm of self-indulgent imagination he saw himself knocking at her door, being taken in, furnished with a drink, a sofa and the telephone, and afterwards offered supper and the luxury of Joanna to discuss it all with. He thought so much better when he thought aloud to her.

But her door was closed, and that was that. He turned his mind away from her as one determinedly pulling the tip of his tongue away from a mouth ulcer. The pain of
thinking about her was more pleasant than not thinking about her, but every touch delayed healing. He didn’t want to go home. He was getting almost superstitious about going home. In his own office he would be bound to be disturbed. That left Atherton.

He drove back to the station, parked down Stanlake Road, and went in cautiously through the yard. Atherton’s car was still there. He paused at the charge room door and saw Fergus perched on the edge of the desk eating a bacon sandwich and reading the
Standard.
He looked up as Slider appeared, and his face creased itself with concern.

‘Where in th’hell have you been, Billy me darlin’? Haven’t they been draggin’ the lakes and rivers of Shepherd’s Bush for you all day?’

‘Oh, I’ve been busy,’ Slider said vaguely. ‘Fergus, can you get Atherton on the phone for me? I don’t want to go up there in case somebody sees me.’

Fergus sighed gustily. ‘You’re cookin’ trouble for yourself. Yerman Barrington’s been havin’ a conniption – wants to wind his case up and can’t lay his hands on half his team.’

‘He wasn’t meant to. I need a couple more days. I’m getting somewhere at last.’

‘Maybe you’d be better off not gettin’ there,’ Fergus warned. ‘As the Chinese philosopher says, it is better to travel hopefully than to book yourself into the Deep Shit Hilton for a mid-week mini-break.’ But he balanced the remaining half of his sandwich delicately on top of his tea-mug and reached for his telephone all the same. ‘I’ll give Boy Blue a bell for you, if that’s what you want.’

‘Mmm,’ said Slider, deep in thought. He had to come back from some distance a moment later to register that Atherton was being pressed to his ear by O’Flaherty’s meaty paw.

‘Is something going on, Guv? Aren’t you going to make an appearance?’

‘I’ve still got some lines to follow up. What’s been happening your end?’

Atherton told him about Amy Lam’s story. ‘It accords with what Leman said to Suzanne about being involved in
a really big job, and being rich enough never to work again. I think you’re right and it must all be connected after all, though for the life of me I can’t see how.’

‘Nor can I, yet, but now we see the direction we’ve got to keep going.’

‘Yes,’ Atherton said. ‘More so than ever now. We’ve had a response from Hong Kong.’

‘The dental profile?’

‘Yes. The chip-shop corpse was definitely Michael Lam.’

‘Ah!’said Slider.

Atherton was puzzled at the response. ‘Is that what you expected?’

‘I don’t know. No, on the whole I think I thought that Lam really had gone to Hong Kong. I don’t understand it yet – but I will. It’s coming slowly.’

‘What do you want us to do, then, Guv?’

‘Do?’

‘Mr Barrington’s been in and out all day,’ Atherton said delicately.

‘Just – just don’t say I’ve been in touch. I need a bit more time.’

‘What about the Lam identification? Mr Barrington wants us to find a connection between him and Slaughter, so we can write it off as Slaughter murdering Lam and then committing suicide.’

‘It’s all right. Go along with it for now. I’m nearly there, I tell you. I’ll sort it out with Barrington tomorrow.’

‘But—’

‘I need to make some phone calls. Can I use your house?’

‘Yes, I suppose so. Yes, of course. You’ve got your key with you?’

‘Yes, I have. Thanks. I’ll see you later.’ Slider put the phone down, and turned to face O’Flaherty’s Atlantic-wind-roughened facade. ‘You haven’t seen me,’ he said.

‘I know there’s no point in tellin’ you,’ Fergus said, ‘but mountin’ a crusade in his memory never did any dead man a tither o’ good.’

Slider didn’t even hear him. ‘Didn’t you say Seedy Barry ran a garden centre in Brunei Road?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Do you know where he lives?’

‘Right next door. One o’ them converted council houses. You can’t miss it – all over trellises and climbin’ plants.’

‘Thanks,’ said Slider.

O’Flaherty watched him go thoughtfully, and then reached for his telephone.

There was nothing overtly seedy about Barry, and Slider concluded that his nickname referred to his present calling rather than any physical shortcomings. In fact he was really rather dapper, and apart from a few missing teeth he did have quite a strong resemblance to Leslie ‘Oh Ashley’ Howard in his heyday.

When Slider arrived at the much becreepered house, he found Seedy was expecting him.

‘Come in, sir,’ he said, holding the door wide. ‘Mr O’Flaherty said you was coming, and I was to tell you what you want to know. Mr O’Flaherty’s done me and mine a lot of favours over the years, and what he says goes with me.’

He closed the door and led Slider through into the lounge – a bright and cheerful room with a cherry-red carpet, wallpaper patterned with large orange circles, an imitation red-brick fireplace housing the electric fire, and the largest collection of brass ornaments and horse-brasses Slider had ever seen. There was a magnificent new three-piece suite in emerald green cut moquette, and in pride of place on the wall behind the sofa was a framed reproduction of the Chinese lady with the green face.

‘Sit down, then, sir,’ Seedy said kindly, gesturing towards the sofa. Slider sat obediently, facing the brasses. There was a hatch in the wall to his right, and through it he glimpsed a fluorescent-lit kitchen and a woman tracking in and out of sight. There was an agreeable smell of boiling potatoes. ‘My wife,’ Seedy said, seeing the direction of his glance. ‘We have our tea early, I’m afraid.’

‘I won’t keep you very long. I don’t want to disturb your meal.’

‘That’s all right, sir. Stay and eat with us. There’s plenty.

‘Oh no, really, thanks—’

‘It’s no trouble.’ Seedy cocked a knowing eye at him. ‘Mr O’Flaherty said I was to look after you. Said you probably hadn’t eaten all day. P’raps you’d like to join us.’ Without waiting for Slider to answer, he stood up and moved towards the hatch. ‘Nice bit of boiled bacon, pease pudding and potatoes, how about it?’

‘No, thank you. Really. I’ve still got a lot to get through tonight. Thanks all the same.’

‘Up to you,’ Seedy said, gently closed the sliding door of the hatch and returned to sit in the chair diagonally opposite Slider, and said, ‘All right then, what did you want to know? Tea’ll be ten minutes, more or less.’

Slider nodded. ‘It’s about Jimmy Cole. I understand you know him?’

‘Knew him before and after. Knew him when he was a kid, and I was sorry to see him get himself into trouble. He was a nice enough boy, but impressionable. Well, he paid dear for it, and I hope he’s going to go straight from now on. I’ve told him I’ll help him get a job. I’ve got plenty of contacts in the nursery business, and there’s nothing better than an outdoor life when you’ve just spent ten years inside.’

‘Ten years isn’t much for killing a policeman,’ Slider said neutrally.

Seedy eyed him sharply. ‘It wouldn’t be. And I’ve no time for that sort of thing, I’ll tell you straight. I’ve done me crime and I’ve done me time but I never held with violence, and if I thought Jimmy had anything to do with shooting those two coppers, I wouldn’t give him the time of day now. But the fact is everyone knows Jimmy never went near a gun in his life, never mind pull the trigger. It was that scumbag Blackburn done the job. Jimmy never even knew he had the shooter on him, I’d bet my life on that.’

‘What do you know about that business?’ Slider asked. ‘There was something funny going on, wasn’t there? I mean, what were Cole and Blackburn doing there anyway? I don’t believe they were just having a drink.’

‘Well, sir, from what I heard there were two jobs going on in the Carlisle that night. There was the regular drugs dealing, which the Bill were onto; and there was something else going down which nobody knew about except Jimmy and Derek Blackburn. But something went wrong, and instead of being out and away before the Bill turned up, Jimmy and Blackburn got caught up in the raid, and that’s how come the shots got fired. Blackburn afterwards always swore he’d been fitted up, though, and he went on yelling double-cross until someone closed his mouth for him, permanent.’