Don't... 04 Backlash (38 page)

“Huh?” Gabe
glanced over, his look lost to how Dare played the wood by running
his fingertips over it. “We’re not watching...” He let that fade
seeing Gray. “Dare.” Gabe looked down. “You up for a game of
pool?”

“Yeah.” Gray
waited for Dare to catch on and—“Oh, yeah. Next floor up,
right?”

As Trace
passed, Gray patted his abs, his thanks for taking care of Jan.
Trace returned it, then gave a worried glance back.

“He’s scared
and damn ill,” he said quietly. “Go easy on him. Please.”

Gray nodded. “I
know.”

Trace offered a
sad smile, then took out his phone. Gray put his hand over the pad.
“Make all calls from the Oval.”

There was a
brief frown, then a nod. “You get another message?”

Ten
hours remaining. A number will be provided, and I expect you to
give me a name. Kes.

“A warning,”
said Gray, and he looked at his watch as Trace snorted.

“This Kes knows
when to hit, hm?” Trace tapped Gray’s arm.

Gray glanced
quickly at Jan. “I’ve confiscated all phones. Make sure they don’t
get access to any others over the next few hours, including your
guys. That goes for iPads, MP3 players—” Gray rubbed at his head,
nursing a headache, and Trace gave a sigh.

“Okay, we’ll
handle this. Go talk to Jan.”

Gray waited for
Trace to leave. Seeing Jan on the sofa, he went over and crouched
in front of him.

“We okay?”

Jan shrugged,
and when Gray picked Jan’s hand up and held it out with a finger
underneath, it shook.

“I’m sorry,”
Gray said in a soft tone.

“Not half as
much as me.” Jan took a swig of beer as Gray removed his touch. “So
fucking stupid back then.” He dug his fingers into his forehead and
closed his eyes. “So fucking stupid now. I should have told
you.”

“We’ve all done
things we regret, Jan.”

Jan gave a
bitter laugh. “Fraud, Gray. That’s slightly more serious. And you
still want me here?”

Gray snorted a
chuckle. “Have you met Jack? His shit-list? Mine? Besides... I love
your soft ass warming my couch.”

That caught
Jan’s attention.

“It took me
over twelve years to say Jack has a place here. I’m not fucking up
another chance, Jan.” He cupped his cheek. “You know I’m here for
you as much as Jack, and as much as I’ll pull Jack up for fucking
up, that goes for you too.”

Jan laughed
softly and Gray caught a tear of his. “And when you fuck up?”

Gray gave a
hard sigh, that run of tear taking his attention. “I’ll know, trust
me,” he said gently. Again a message came through, and Gray shifted
to make sure it came off his and not Logan’s.

Death
certificate: Mr Robert Kershaw. Official cause of death shows
massive haemorrhage due to penetrative head trauma. HIC (Head
Injury Criterion) states that the head injury is relevant to
acceleration and impact. No narcotics found in bloodstream.
Accidental Death on a car crash verdict given.

Another text
came through a minute later.

Interesting point: The car being driven was only a few
months old, with stop/start fitted as standard. Computer reported
that the engine had cut off 15 minutes before impact, but a
mechanical investigation showed no sign of loss of power. It was
marked as a technical glitch on the computer’s
part.

It couldn’t
have been the Stop/Start function. Micro-hybrid engines were one of
the best eco moves in the auto industry to reduce fuel consumption
and meet EU-guideline emissions; the engine cut off once the car
stayed idle. Once pressure was applied to the clutch pedal, the car
then restarted. Transition from start to stop, then stop to start
was smooth enough for the owner not to notice, but it wasn’t ever
meant to kick in whilst the car was in transit. Gray knew the Met
had been working on a way to cut out a stolen car, mid-chase, by
using something that tapped into the IBS system. But that was still
at planning stage. Unless someone had beaten them to it?

Another
vibration came from the phone.

Cruise control was pre-set at 70 mph, on a slippery road.
Fault marked down on engine that: driver forgot to disable it by
use of an on/off switch. Note from Kershaw’s wife stated that Mr
Kershaw had a habit of leaving the cruise control on after coming
off the likes of a motorway. He never liked the clutch option for
cruise control.

Gray eased back
a touch. Now that was something else. If the cruise control hadn’t
been switched off, the car would automatically build to the preset
speed. Add a slippery surface which the cruise control shouldn’t be
used on, a minor distraction with the engine cutting out, a
forgotten cruise control, a very handy, and no doubt well-placed
barrier....

Historic death reports on MI6 ops. Four out of six died of
natural causes outside of field duty. The remaining two were
accidents. Both automobile. Engines were before on-board computers.
No engine fail filed, but both of the deceased had similar injuries
to Mr Kershaw. MI6 investigated, but accidental death notices were
given, note: grudgingly.

Gray looked at
Jan. Had Elena been the smart one in this? Maybe she’d known things
could go wrong and had possibly hunted for some evidence to bargain
with against those who funded what she did.

Why
highlight a possible link between the codes and Richards? Between
the possible accidental death link with MI6 deaths and Rob? Why
mention Kes? Had the missing part of Elena’s code been hidden for
that long? Twelve years? More importantly, and somewhat darkly,
had
Kes
been on the scene for that
long?

Someone knew
something. And if not Jan, Elena, or Jan’s father due to his death,
then....

Oh
.... Gray
stroked gently at Jan’s leg. “Would it be okay to go and talk to
your mother? I need to ask her some questions. You okay with
that?”

“My mother?”
Jan frowned.

“I just need to
run some questions by her about your father.”

Jan sat up.
“You going to tell her about the fraud?”

It was there,
the need to take away that look, but mentioning Rob, a possible
murder investigation into his and his toddler’s death, all to
possibly do with the fraud? It would tear him apart only further.
It would have to come at some point, but Gray would delay it as
long as possible. And he’d damn well make sure some evidence was
lost so his part of the fraud wouldn’t be mentioned at all in any
court of law.

“Only what’s
necessary for me to clear some details up for my own records. I
won’t mention your involvement. Not if you don’t want me too.”

Determination
was there in his eyes. “I swear I’ll tell her. Just... just not
now, please.”

Gray
nodded.

“You don’t have
to come with me.” Gray managed a weak smile. “But I have a really
lousy history with in-laws.”

Jan nodded,
choked a laugh, then eased down a little.

“Go where?”
said Jack, padding back through with two cups of coffee. Sitting
next to Jan, he offered him one, then Gray got the other. Jack
pinched sips from both, tasting from both mugs (one white with one
sugar, Jan’s black with none) and Gray hid a grin at the
symbolism.

“My mother’s
place.”

Gray winced. He
kind of figured what was coming next off Jack.

“I’ll get my
coat.”

A borough in
the north-east of London, Hackney’s southern tip touched down just
a mile away from the Thames. The Slum Clearance of 1931 had
impacted heavily on business, so that by the 1980s, the borough
population hit an all-time low. The later de-urbanisation and
proximity to some of London’s finest had worked its magic since,
Hackney now having one of the more dense populations. The likes of
Hackney Empire theatre had a fine record of appearances: Charlie
Chaplin... Stan Laurel... and the Broadway Market that ran every
weekend attracted some of the finest food-lovers.

Growing up in
the 80s and beyond, it would have been a good place to be.

Oswald Street
itself offered complete conflict to the space of the nearby
marshes, cramming rows of flats on the one side that crowded and
curved into a dead-end street, whilst the other was packed full of
two and three bedroom houses. The latter would fetch a humble
£295,000 on the market, and for London, that was incredibly humble.
It left the street just as chaotic when it came to parking, and it
took several mumbled apologies off Jan before Gray managed to weave
his way into a space.

Jan lived at
number six, just past Meandor Court. He hadn’t always lived here;
some of his childhood was spent on a council street, and this was a
definitive step up from the spit and sawdust homes that the
government had owned back in the 80s. Gray had been here before
when he’d questioned Mrs Richards whilst both Jan and Jack had been
in hospital. But he let Jan lead, Jack loitering behind with him as
they passed a wall to their left that would take them to Jan’s. An
L-shaped half-wall helped guide them into the 4x4 concrete yard and
the offer of a pencil-thin two-bedroom home.

Jack offered a
secret grin when Jan used the door chime, then his key, a polite
knock, then a call of “Hey, Mom, just us,” following close
behind.

“Soft lad,”
coughed Jack behind his hand and Jan glanced back as he pushed the
door open.

“You arranged
to go around for dinner with your dad yet, Jack?” Jan whispered
just as quickly.

“Yeah, stop,
the pair of you. It’s only—Mrs Richards, good to meet you
again.”

“Kate,” said
the woman peering out from the kitchen. Jan carried her dark-brown
eye colouring, its warmth too as Kate came down the hall, wiping
her hands on a towel. “Jan said you were coming and I’ve put some
tea on,” she added in between getting on tiptoes to kiss at Jan’s
cheek. “You—” She stopped when she saw Jan. “What?” The lines on
her face changed shape so many times. “What’s wrong, luv? You
look... look—”

“Bad few
nights’ sleep.” Jan kissed at her cheek. “Few nightmares, faced
realities, and something I shouldn’t have been taking.”

Kate pushed Jan
away. “What?”

“Long story,
Mom.” Jan pulled her back. “I’ll tell you over a coffee, just not
now, okay?”

Kate’s look was
on Gray as she tiptoed and returned Jan’s hold. “You know I’m here,
luv.”

“Always.” Jan
made his hold a little tighter and Kate relaxed. Jan hadn’t been
doing that a lot lately. Jack and Gray hadn’t been the only ones to
notice.

“Mr Raoul.” She
held out a hand when she let Jan go.

“Gray,” he said
gently, welcoming the offering, and Kate burned a blush, enough to
take a step back and—

“Oh, Gray. Yes.
Jan keeps mentioning you. And this—” She cleared her throat. “This
must be....”

“Jack.”

“Jack.” Kate
frowned for a moment, but it was lost as Jack went all in and
kissed her cheek. “Tea’s this way, right? Although I like coffee
better.”

Kate laughed
and gave a graceful shift of hand towards the kitchen. “Jan already
warned me. Coffee’s on too, Jack.”

“Jan say much
about me? Only whatever it was, he did it.”

Jan pushed at
Jack’s shoulder and Kate smiled as they headed for the kitchen.
Gray had been in the lounge last time. An offer of tea had come
then but Gray hadn’t felt comfortable accepting it, not whilst he
was doing background checks on Jan after Jan had been raped. He
didn’t know how much Jan had told Kate since then, but they were
close in general, and he hoped Jan had her to talk to whilst Jack
had been sectioned. From her frown at Jack when they’d been
introduced, something had been mentioned.

“You’ve just
missed Lacey,” said Kate as she busied herself by the peculator.
Four mugs sat beside each other and she added sugars without
asking. No doubt Jan had already warned in advance.

Jack and
Gray pulled out seats at the dining table. It sat next to the one
wall, whilst the other had a run of matching units. Almost seemed a
quiet acceptance between the two, that
I’ll eat whatever you cook,
comfortable feel. Gray had
grown up with a formal dining room set aside from the kitchen. It’s
why he had made sure there was a table given pride of place in his
kitchen now. He loved the anticipation of a meal almost as much as
tasting it.

Jack smiled
over at him, and Gray gave that a second thought. Maybe it wasn’t
so much the where, but the who. He loved how the foods and spices
always seeped into Jack’s skin.

“How’s she
doing?” said Jan, drawing his and Jack’s attention. Jan was by the
patio doors, looking out. “Megan’s first term at nursery,
right?”

“Oh God, yes.”
Kate brought their drinks over, then handed Jan his. “She hasn’t
stopped crying yet.”

Jan took the
coffee. “Megan?”

“Lacey.”

Jan laughed.
“So her and Steph are haunting you through the day?”

“Just for a few
hours before I go to work.”

“Apologies,”
said Gray, looking at the time. Kate was due at the supermarket in
an hour. She’d been moved up to manager, but he doubted her area
manager would appreciate her flouting office hours.

“No rush,” she
said gently, now coming over and taking a seat next to him. She’d
bypassed the one by Jack, but it meant she could no doubt keep an
eye on Jan. Smart, tight-fitting black trousers shaped her legs,
and a snug waistcoat with name tag complemented her white
shirt.

“So, you’ve
been seeing my son for a year, Jack,” she said, that frown back on
her face. “Why has it taken you this long to come and say hi?”