Gatecrasher (23 page)

Monday
.
12.30pm
.

The strain was clear on
Gresham
’s face and he turned away from the reflection in the glass and stared at the floor. He knew the others in the room could see it too and he didn’t like them to see him weak or scared.

And right now he was both.

He had not been able to sleep in the two nights that she had been gone. When finally exhaustion overtook him, the dreams that he’d seen in sleep were too awful to bear and he had woken shouting her name more than once.

He had sent Slater and the others to see what they could find out, see what people knew about
Walker
. But no-one would talk even if they did know anything and
Gresham
was well aware that he would find out where she was only when
Walker
told him.

But the waiting was worse. The inactivity and the feeling of impotence as he stared at the phone were more than he could take. At least if he was doing something to find her, however futile, it was better than the waiting.

‘Have we heard anything about
Campbell
? Did Drennan’s man get to him yet?’
Gresham
asked them.

Nobody spoke. Slater shrugged. Keane and Warren exchanged a brief look.

‘I want somebody watching
Campbell
’s flat. All the time. If he even pops in to get his post I want the fucker. We get him, we get the stick, we get the m
oney and then we get Angie back,
’ he said qu
ietly, his eyes still cast down.

Nobody wanted to suggest that there might be no Angie to get back. Or
Campbell
. They all knew that
Gresham
was already all too aware of that thought anyway. Now was the time to say the right thing and do what the boss said and find some way out of this. Ever since that fateful night the fabric of their world had started to tear and it got worse at every turn, not better.

‘We’ll do shifts then. Me and Keano will take first shi
ft,
’ offered
Warren
.

They all murmured their agreement and the two men shuffled out the door,
Warren
patting a hand on
Gresham
’s shoulder as he passed.

Monday
.
2pm
.

Tyler
looked no less like a doorman whether he wore a suit and tie or the jeans and black leather jacket that he favoured. Drennan tried to make more of an effort over his own appearance and was a vain and self-important man. He made no effort to encourage
Tyler
to improve his own hair and clothes though, preferring the impression of menace that
Tyler
’s unkempt appearance tended to convey and the often unsettling contrast it presented with his own.

They had heard from their paymaster only once since the end of the previous week and been told to wait. The young man who had got himself embroiled in this situation was soon to be eliminated. Drennan thought this more than over-cautious behaviour on his employer’s behalf but was in no position to question or influence the decision.

Once he was out of the equation they could proceed with the plan as agreed. In the meantime he had been in contact with
Gresham
once more to tell the man to sit tight and to keep hold of the memory stick he had stolen and keep it safe. Drennan had felt that the further removed it was for the time being from himself and his employer the better. There would be no call for it yet.

Gresham
had struck him as edgy and ill-tempered but gave no reason why. Bad night’s sleep Drennan thought, or maybe he was just a belligerent bastard all the time. Maybe he was getting nervous keeping hold of the memory stick, which had, after all, got one of his men killed. Never mind, he’d just have to be patient if he wanted his money.

The phone rang and Drennan noted the caller on the screen of his mobile.

‘Sir?’

‘Afternoon.’

‘Are we ready to move?’

A pause. ‘It seems that our young friend is a more resilient man than we gave him credit for.’

‘Sir?’ Drennan thought he knew what he was getting at but knew better than to say so.

‘My man failed Matthew. I have heard nothing in two days. I can only presume that something has gone gravely wrong. He was due to report in yesterday evening but has yet to do so and cannot be reached.’

Drennan remained silent, aware that they were both probably thinking the same thing: that there was more to
Campbell
than they had thought, or perhaps he had finally gone to the police despite
Gresham
’s best attempts to threaten him into silence. What was clear was that Drennan’s paymaster had sent someone to kill him but that
Campbell
had evidently escaped that fate as well. Which meant that he was still out there somewhere, still in a position to ruin everything for them.

‘Do we wait?’

Another pause. ‘No. No more waiting. There’s no more time. We make our play now.’

‘Very good. You would like me to make contact?’

‘Yes. Today.’

‘I’ll make the call.’

‘And Drennan, do me another favour.’

Dre
nnan waited for it but knew what was coming.

‘Get rid of
Campbell
for me. As soon as you can.’

Monday
.
2.30pm
.

Two hours after leaving
Gresham
’s house and
Warren
was getting bored and uncomfortable. They had found a parking spot a few hundred yards short of
Campbell
’s flat and sat drinking hot coffee and listening to the radio quietly. Nudging at his colleague to get out and take a walk past the flat he turned down the stereo and watched as Keane zipped up his jacket against the chill and strolled nonchalantly off down the road.

Soon bored with the radio station
Warren
began sifting through the cds in the glove compartment and slid one in. Looking up again as the bass kicked in through the speakers in the doors he saw Keane walking briskly back towards the car and then the door popped open.

‘Lights are on,
’ he said.

‘
He’s back?’

The telephone ring sounded like an alarm bell and sent a surge of shock ripping through him. His hand trembled as he picked up the receiver and he had to fight to control his voice before he spoke. Slater stared at him eager for a sign.

‘Looks like we got a break George.’
Warren
’s voice.

Gresham
felt something sink again when he didn’t hear his daughter on the end of the phone but then the words began to register.

‘Do what?’

‘Looks like he’s home. Lights are on.’

Feeling a rush of elation
Gresham
gripped his e
mpty hand into a fist. ‘
About time. Right, now let’s be careful. One of you ring the bell and the other go round the back make sure he doesn’t get scared and do a runner again right?’
Gresham
ordered and noted that already he felt more in control, less helpless.

‘
No worries George. We’re moving,
’ said
Warren
and then he passed the instructions on to Keane. He came back on the line. ‘I’ll call you back in a tick boss.’

‘Alright son. Give me good news Jools.’

He dropped the phone and then sank into a chair as Slater began asking questions.

It rang again and he had the receiver up in half a ring.

‘Jools?’

‘Try again.’

W
alker
.
Gresham
’s head dropped.

‘Frank. How is she?’

‘Lovely George. Just lovely.’

‘You fucking lay one finger on her Frank-’

‘Now, now George. Lets be professional. I find that insulting.’

Gresham
seethed silently.

‘OK. Now listen. I’ve been having a little natter with the young lady and I must say I am mighty intrigued George. Seems like you had some sort of scam going to get my money back. Something of value to be sold off, no?’

‘Sort of,
’ he replied apprehensively.

‘Hmm
. Sort of. I see. Well here’s what I think George. I think if you have something of value and I have something of value then we might be able to make some sort of swap. I know you’re
a big cheese and all that
but I rather think I might be able to negotiate a better deal than you have and... well... you aren’t too worried about making yourself any money right now are you George? Mind on other things?’

‘Fine. I don’t care if its cash or not Frank. Just leave her the fuck alone and you can have the thing,’ snapped
Gresham
.

‘Excellent decision George. I’ll be in touch.’

And he was gone.

On the third ring Slater picked up the receiver as he noted that
Gresham
, now slumped in a chair, eyes closed, looked broken. The memory stick would have got them the cash they needed but there may have been other ways to get cash if that had failed. Now his boss had cut their options down to one in his desperation and he looked like he was beginning to question the wisdom of his rash decision.

‘Jools?’ he said into the phone.

‘Keith? Where’s George?’

Slater held the phone out to his boss who took it from him almost hesitantly, as if afraid of what it might do to him this time.

‘George here.’

‘George. Nobody home.’

‘Shit,
’ he murmured and raised a hand over his eyes. After a pause he spoke again. ‘Stay there until he gets back then alright? Lights are on aren’t they? Then he’s probably just popped out.’

‘No
,
I don’t think he’s coming home any time soon George.’

‘What?’

‘He’s left you a note.’

‘He’s what?! What does it say?’

‘Says “George. Call zero, seven, seven, eight, nine...”’  but the words trailed off as
Gresham
stared off into space.

The little bastard.

What the fuck did he think he was playing at?

Monday
.
3pm
.

His schedule was a busy one and allowed little time for relaxation. His working day began when most people were waking up and ended after they had all gone home again. Unless there were some meeting or function to attend he would snatch a quick lunch to eat in his office or between appointments.

Today he had few actual engagements booked in to his diary and he was trying to make headway with the Malaysian project. Two junior ministers from the Department for International Development sat on the other side of the table from him in the corner of his office poring over files and schematics, columns of figures and graphs. Asquith was starting to get the feeling that the more he looked the less he saw.

The ringing phone was a welcome distraction.

His secretary greeted him. ‘Sorry to disturb you Minister but I have a personal call on line three. Insists that it’s important. Name of
Griffin
.’

The call was patched through and Asquith put his back to the two men in the corner. ‘Andrew?’

‘Not quite but that should serve as a clue. Are you alone?’

Asquith turned around. ‘Gentlemen would you give me a moment? I’m most terribly sorry. Take a ten-minute breather shall we? This is all getting a bit much.’

If they were offended by the dismissal neither man showed it and shuffled quickly out of the office with Asquith smiling his polite gratitude at each of them.

‘Who is this?’ he barked into the phone as the door closed.

‘I represent certain interests Mr Asquith. Certain interests who are familiar with certain transgressions of your past.’