Hard Landing (40 page)

The bathroom was at the back of the house, the door closed. Lewis put his hand on the handle and nodded at Jewel. Jewel held his gun with both hands and Lewis opened the door. During the day there had been a man in the bathroom keeping watch on the garden, but now he’d gone. Lewis frowned, then pointed towards the master bedroom. That was where Roper and his wife were sleeping. They moved down the hallway towards the bedroom. They passed the children’s room and ignored it. Fletcher had been insistent that they were not to be hurt. The same went for the wife. Roper was the target.

They reached the master bedroom. Lewis took the handle. Jewel nodded, and he opened the door. Jewel took three quick steps into the middle of the room and aimed his gun at the bed. It was empty. Lewis moved to the wardrobe and opened it. No clothes. Nothing.

‘Fuck,’ he said.

‘What’s going on?’ asked Jewel. He still had his gun aimed at the bed, his finger on the trigger.

‘The birds have fucking flown,’ said Lewis.

‘We’re getting paid, though, yeah?’ said Jewel.

‘Fucking right we’re getting paid,’ said Lewis.

‘Why don’t you just arrest them?’ asked Roper. He was watching a CCTV monitor that showed a night-vision view of the bedroom window of the safe-house. He could see two men standing in the middle of the room, holding guns.

‘It’d tip Carpenter off that we know what he’s up to,’ said Hargrove.

‘The fact the house is empty will tell them that,’ said Roper.

‘Not necessarily,’ said Hargrove. ‘They might just think we’ve moved you.’

‘Bit of a coincidence. They must have staked the place out, and then, just as they move in, the place is abandoned.’

‘Give me a break, Sandy,’ said Hargrove. ‘We got you and your family out, didn’t we? If we pull those two in Carpenter’s going to suspect we’ve got someone on the inside. At least this way there’s some confusion. There they go.’

On the monitor, the two men moved out of the bedroom. Hargrove flicked a remote-control button and another view flickered on to the screen. This time it was from a camera inside the house. The two men moved down the stairs. They were both wearing night-vision goggles.

‘Do you know who they are?’ asked Roper.

‘Not yet, but we’ve put a tracking device in their car so we soon will. And we’ll keep an eye on them from now on.’

‘None of his crew are black. None of the ones I met, anyway.’

‘They might be hired help.’

‘Which means what? That he didn’t want to risk his own people on a hit?’

‘That’s how I read it. We’ll keep an eye on them and pull them in when we’ve got Carpenter.’

‘Now what?’ asked Roper.

‘You and your family are on a flight to Florida. The DEA will put you under armed guard, with a watch at all airports for anyone who’s even spoken to Gerald Carpenter.’

‘Maybe they’ll take us to Disneyland.’

‘Maybe they will,’ said Hargrove. ‘But it won’t be for long. We’re entering the end phase now, Sandy. I promise.’

Roper nodded, but he wasn’t convinced. Hargrove and Mackie had promised on a stack of Bibles that he and his family were safe in Milton Keynes, but the two men in night-vision goggles had just given the lie to that.

Carpenter waited until just before dawn before he assembled his phone. He listened at the door, and when he was satisfied that the landing was clear, he switched it on and called Fletcher’s number.

‘Yes, boss,’ said Fletcher.

‘We’re gonna have to keep this short, Kim. Battery’s on the way out. Get me another sent in, yeah?’

‘Will do, boss.’

‘How did it go?’

‘Not good, boss.’

Carpenter cursed under his breath. ‘Spit it out, Kim.’

‘Roper’s gone. The house was empty.’

‘I thought you had the place under surveillance.’

‘We did. He was there, no doubt about it. But we had to leave to brief Lewis and pay him. By the time he went in, Roper had gone.’

Carpenter ran a hand through his hair. It might just have been bad luck – the Church might be moving Roper around as a precaution. ‘What does Yates say?’

‘His mobile’s off. I’ll catch him tomorrow. But I’ve got the last set of tapes from him. I’ll go through them now.’

‘You think there might be more on them about Roper?’

‘It’s a possibility. Yates does his best but he can’t remember everything.’

‘Do it, Kim. I’ll call you back tomorrow.’

‘Boss, Lewis wants paying. The full whack.’

‘That’s okay.’

‘But he didn’t do the job. Bloody liberty, if you ask me.’

‘Just pay him. It wasn’t his fault. But keep your distance. If they moved Roper out, they might have had the place under surveillance.’

‘There were no cops there, boss. Guaranteed.’

Carpenter swore. ‘Just let me do the thinking, will you? They might be trying to link Lewis to me by letting him run. That’s why we’ve got to pay him to keep him sweet. And get someone else to hand over the money. I’ve got to go. Don’t forget that battery.’ He cut the connection. He paced up and down with the mobile in his hand. That had been the last thing he’d wanted to hear from Fletcher. Roper was the key to his freedom. With Roper out of the picture, the case against Carpenter would collapse. He could only hope that he’d be able to find out where Roper had been moved to. But at least he still had the inside track on everything the Church did. Or, more accurately, Carpenter knew everything that Roy Mackie, Head of Drugs Operations, did. And wherever Roper went, HODO wouldn’t be far behind.

Shepherd spent the morning cleaning the ones with Charlie Weston. Amelia Heartfield was supposed to be overseeing them but she spent most of her time in the bubble with Tony Stafford. From time to time he heard her laughing. Shepherd wondered what she had to be so happy about. He never saw her in anything other than good spirits, yet she had a high-stress job with four children to take care of on the out.

There was no sign of Carpenter. At dinnertime Gilchrist came down from the threes and took a plate of food up to Carpenter’s cell. In the afternoon Amelia was back on the ones. Shepherd asked her if it was okay to use the phone. ‘You know you’re supposed to wait until association,’ she said.

‘It’s personal,’ he said. ‘During association every man and his dog listens in, you know that.’

Amelia looked concerned. ‘Wife trouble?’

Shepherd shrugged. Lying was a way of life when working undercover and it came naturally to him, but he still felt bad about being dishonest with Amelia.

‘Go on, then,’ she said.

Shepherd went over to the phones and tapped in his pin code followed by the number for Uncle Richard. A man answered.

‘Richard, it’s Bob,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’m calling to see how everything went.’

‘He had visitors but he wasn’t in.’

‘Anyone we know?’

‘We’re on the case.’

‘But no one known?’

‘No one obvious.’

‘And our man’s well?’

‘Fine and dandy. And you?’

‘As well as can be expected,’ said Shepherd. ‘Tell Sam that the Walkman’s working fine, but I’ve nothing worth listening to yet.’

‘I’ll tell him,’ said the man. ‘Do you need anything else?’

Shepherd tapped the receiver against his head. What he needed was to be on the out with his son. But first he needed Carpenter on tape, incriminating himself. And that was all down to Shepherd. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’ve got everything I need.’ He replaced the receiver and went back to cleaning the floor.

Carpenter waited until an hour after lock-up before he took the Nokia from its hiding place in his stereo and phoned Fletcher. His man had obviously been waiting for the call because he answered it on the first ring. ‘You’ve got a major fucking problem, boss. There’s a grass in there.’

‘What the hell are you talking about, Kim?’

‘Mackie talked about a guy in prison. He only refers to him in passing, but he says he’s got balls of steel. “Twentyfour hours a day among some of the hardest bastards in the realm” is what Mackie said. His name’s Shepherd.’

‘Why didn’t Yates tell you about this?’

‘It was a throwaway line, boss. Easy to miss unless you know the context.’

‘That’s all you’ve got?’

‘I ran it by Ryan. And he came up trumps.’

Malcolm Ryan cost Carpenter upwards of a hundred grand a year but he was one of his most useful police sources. He worked in the Metropolitan Police payroll and pensions office and had access to the Met’s personnel records. Carpenter was grateful that Fletcher had used his initiative rather than waiting for the go-ahead to contact Ryan. ‘What did he say?’

‘Said there’s a Daniel Shepherd who worked for the Met for a year but who was seconded to some Home Office undercover unit.’

‘Have you a picture?’ asked Carpenter.

‘Got better than that, boss. Ryan sent me a copy of his file.’

‘Get it to me, Kim. You paid off Lewis?’

‘Got the money to him,’ said Fletcher. ‘Did it through a courier. No link back to us, guaranteed.’

‘Good man. Don’t go near him again, not even a phone call.
Persona
bloody
non grata
.’

Carpenter cut the connection and put the phone away. He smiled savagely. As soon as he found out who the grass was, he’d take care of him. Permanently.

The next day the newspapers and mail weren’t delivered until after dinner. Carpenter was lying on his back listening to Mozart on his headphones when Healey appeared at his cell door with his papers and two letters, one from Bonnie, the other from his lawyers. Both had been slit open. All his mail, incoming and outgoing, went through the prison censors. ‘Short-staffed again,’ said Healey. ‘Lot of lead-swinging at the moment.’

‘Gym’s still on?’

‘Yeah. The problem’s over at admin,’ said Healey. He left and Carpenter pushed the door shut.

The manila envelope was inside the
Guardian
. Unlike the posted mail, it was sealed. Carpenter opened it. There were three sheets of A
4
paper, a printout of a computer file. There was a name at the top of the first sheet. Daniel Shepherd. There was a photograph in the top left-hand corner. As he recognised the man Carpenter swore. Bob Macdonald. Bob fucking Macdonald. Carpenter felt a surge of anger. He’d talked to the man, shared confidences with him. And everything Macdonald had said had been a lie. It had been a set-up, right from the start. Bob Macdonald was Daniel Shepherd, and Daniel Shepherd was a lying, cheating undercover cop.

Carpenter read through the file. School in Manchester. Studied economics at Manchester University. Left before taking his finals and joined the army, the Paras. After two years passed selection for the SAS. Left to join the police. Currently attached to a Home Office undercover unit but his salary was still paid by the Met. A list of a dozen commendations.

Carpenter flicked through the sheets. Married. One son. Carpenter smiled. He’d take care of Daniel bloody Shepherd. Inside and on the out. He’d show him what it meant to cross Gerald Carpenter.

Moira ruffled Liam’s head. ‘Gran, I’m concentrating!’ moaned Liam, his thumbs flicking across the controls, his eyes glued to the television set.

‘Those video games are bad for your eyes,’ said Moira.

‘So’s reading,’ said Liam. On the television, a racing car was hurtling along a crowded city street.

‘Oh? Who told you that?’ said Moira.

‘Everyone knows that if you read too much you need glasses. All my teachers have glasses.’ Liam groaned as the car crashed into the side of a bus and burst into flames.

‘Doesn’t that have a parental-guidance warning?’ asked Moira.

‘It’s a video game, Gran.’

‘Why don’t you go and help your granddad in the front garden?’ she said. ‘He’s pruning the roses.’ She looked through the sitting-room window. Tom was standing at the garden gate, talking to two men in dark coats. Moira frowned. They weren’t expecting visitors. The men looked like policemen. The man talking to Tom was smiling a lot. He had very white teeth, Moira noticed, too white to be real.

As she watched, Tom and the two men walked towards the house. Moira’s stomach lurched at the thought that something might have happened to Daniel. She clasped her hands together and took a deep breath. It had been two police officers who’d broken the news of Susan’s death. She’d opened her front door and known from the look on their faces that something bad had happened, and as soon as they’d asked her to confirm her name she’d known it was Susan they had come to see her about. They’d wanted to step inside the house, but she made them tell her on the doorstep and collapsed in the hallway. Her heart raced, but then she saw that the man with the white teeth was smiling and Tom was chatting to him. It couldn’t have been bad news.

‘What’s wrong, Gran?’ asked Liam.

‘Nothing,’ said Moira. She went to the front door and opened it, just as Tom and the two men arrived on the doorstep.

‘These are two policemen, love,’ said Tom. ‘They want to check our security.’

‘Why do we need security?’ asked Moira defensively. ‘Has something happened?’

‘Nothing’s happened, Mrs Wintour,’ said the man with white teeth. He had a slight lisp, Moira thought, giving credence to her impression that his teeth were false. ‘Just better safe than sorry.’

‘But why would we need security?’ asked Moira.

‘It’s okay, love,’ said Tom. ‘They just want to look round. Check the locks, the windows, that sort of thing.’

Moira sighed. ‘I suppose you’d better come in,’ she said. Tom waved the men inside. They wiped their feet on the doormat before stepping into the hallway. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ asked Moira.

‘Tea would be lovely,’ said the man with white teeth. ‘Where’s Liam, then?’

‘In the sitting room, playing video games.’

Tom shut the front door.