Heaven's Door (28 page)

“Hi, Jad, how are you? Stupid question. I …”

Jad's expression was a reflection of his own, and Tom could see the impact of his own weight loss and haggard appearance in his friend's eyes.

“Better than you, ol' pal o' mine.” Jad's voice was a hoarse whisper. He paused for a long time. “Tom, I'm so sorry about … I don't know what to say … I should have got in touch, but …”

“It's okay, Jad.”

“I know I must be the worst Godfather in the world, but I've always felt close to him, you know.”

The two looked at each other in silence, both breathing heavily. They each moved forward and embraced.

“I've done nothing for him in his entire life,” Jad continued as they stepped apart. “I just wish I was out of here and then maybe …”

“Actually, I came here to ask for your help; and advice. There may be time yet to do something.”

*

David Gerard called for a paper on the way back from his visit to the Alpha Male Grooming Emporium in Cullen Hall. Before starting to read it, he checked his landline for messages. There was one from his daughter.

“Hi, Dad. Linny here. Just to let you know that we'll be away for ten days from tomorrow – that's Tuesday. Back a week on Friday. Caz has got to use up some hols carried over from last year before the end of the month. We're going to the Lakes. Doing a bit of walking. Take care. Love you. Bye.”

David smiled. Linny and her husband, Caz, had recently moved to Earlsfield in Wandsworth, a short commutable distance from their work in the Capital. He started to text her to ‘have a great time' and then stopped as an idea came to him. He called her instead. She answered immediately.

“Hi, Dad!”

“Hi, Gorgeous!”

“Did you get my message?”

“I did. It sounds great, though I can't remember Caz asking permission to take my daughter away.”

“No? Well, I definitely told him to.”

They laughed.

“I'll have to have a word with that little rascal,” said David.

“He's not little, Dad. He's six-two. He only looks little next to you.”

“Whatever. Anyway, I want to ask you a favour. I've got a job – some security consultancy work – in and around Cobham for the next week or so. Would it be possible, seeing as you're away, to stay at your place?”

“'Course, Dad. But you could have stayed anyway. I hope you know that.”

David looked at his reflection in the mirror over the fireplace; at the shaven head, at the colourful tattoos on his forearms and round his neck – albeit temporary ones he could remove using the small bottle of special solvent which came free with the make-over – at the clip-on earring with its dangling cross. He wondered if his daughter's invitation would have survived the shock of his new image.

“Yes I know I could, but I never thought about it until I picked up your message. You sure it's okay?”

“Of course it is. Listen, why not come tonight and stay over. We would love that and …”

“Sorry, Linny, but I can't make it tonight. What time are you leaving tomorrow?”

“First thing. Trying to get a flyer before the worst of the M25. Leaving around five. Probably better if you're not here. We'd only wake you up, I guess.”

“Perhaps I could stay to welcome you back. You could show me all your photographs and if that didn't work, Caz could beam me to sleep.”

Linny laughed.

“That would be great. So make sure you plan to stay over the Friday night we're back. You've still got your key? Not forgotten where you've put it or anything?”

“Look, I'm only fifty-six. You're not suppose to start forgetting things until you're at least sixty.”

“Really?”

“Really. By the way, what did you say your name was?”

*

Week 11; Tuesday, 2 June…

David arrived at 23 St Herbert Street – a medium-sized Victorian terraced – just after noon. He was relieved to see that there was no-one around.

He pulled off the road onto the paved area in front of the house – previously the front garden – grabbed his hold-all from the back seat and rushed into the property. He was starting to think that the two parts of his brilliant plan might not fit comfortably together. His new image, calculated to give him an air of menace in any confrontation with his quarry, might prove to be something of a liability in a tranquil London suburb. He wondered what the neighbours would think of a very large, shaven-headed, tattooed individual suddenly replacing a friendly young couple in their street. A couple who, it might seem, had disappeared without trace overnight.

He settled into his temporary accommodation, laying out his clothes and placing his toiletries in the bathroom. He checked the fridge and noted that Linny had left him enough milk, eggs, bacon and spread to last him a good few days. In the freezer compartment there were also several ready meals for the microwave and a couple of loaves of bread, one of which he removed and placed on the worktop to defrost.

He changed into black jeans and a tight black tee shirt, flexing his chest and arms in front of the mirror to test the effect. Satisfied, he picked up his leather jacket and peered out of the front door, looking up and down the street before rushing into his car like an escaping bank robber.

*

“Bon soir, Cherie.”

“Hercule! Quelle surprise! ‘Ow goes eet?”

“I'm just phoning to let you know I'm staying at Linny's – moved in earlier today – just in case you were planning to drop by my place with wine and flowers. It's in Earlsfield, on the Cobham line into Waterloo. How's that for a piece of luck?”

“That's great. I feel a bit sorry for Linny, though.”

“No need, she's, on holiday in the Lake District, but thanks a lot, anyway.”

“Then I'm definitely
not
sorry for her. Have you done anything yet? A bit early, I guess.”

“Just a bit, but I've been to Cobham, checked around the railway station for likely dealing places – no obvious ones, as you would expect – but found the guest house where Laser's aunt lives. Not asked around at all yet. Planning to do that tomorrow at the stations along the route. Very exciting, all this.”

“Great, keep me posted. How's the invisibility cloak working?”

“I tell you, you wouldn't see me if I was standing right behind you.”

Jo laughed.

“Well, just be careful, anyway. Speak soon.”

*

Week 11; Wednesday, 3 June …

Before they left the holding centre, Mags spent a few minutes with Jason while Katey went to see her brother.

Tom waved Emily to one side.

“Could I have a word in private, please?”

“Of course.” Emily smiled and waved him towards a door off the reception area and they seated themselves across the table in a small interview room.

“Look,” said Tom, “I wonder if I can have another one-to-one with Jack. Could you arrange that? I just want to put everything right between us. I don't want to look back and think of things I should have said. I'm sure you can appreciate that. And I know Jack will feel the same.”

Emily hesitated. “Well, as you know, sir, such a meeting would normally only be allowed at the request of the prisoner.”

“Well, ask him!”

“But …” Emily continued, still smiling sweetly. “I really can't see a problem. Frankly, I've never understood why that rule applies; it seems nonsense to me,” she added. “What about tomorrow afternoon? Three-thirty?”

“Yes, thank you,” said Tom, a little sheepishly. “That would be ideal.”

*

Emily watched them leave the building then picked up the phone.

“Alison Anders speaking.”

“Hi Chief, just to let you know, father and son have another meeting arranged for tomorrow – Thursday – three-thirty – just the two of them again. After the weird conversation they had last time, thought you might be interested in listening in; perhaps Doc Wallis as well. Did you come up with anything about ‘Heaven's door', by the way?”

“Not yet,” said the Chief. “Still looking into it. Obviously some connection with the father's years in the armed services, but there's nothing jumps out. I'll definitely come down and listen in tomorrow though, and I'll ask the doc.”

*

“Right,” David said. “The story so far, day two.” He was stretched out on Linny's sofa with a large malt at his elbow and his clip-on earring in his pocket. “I have spent the whole of the day – well, pretty much – travelling between Waterloo and Cobham – backwards and forwards. Did you know you can get a daily saver ticket for £10.80 that gives you unlimited journeys…?”

“That's absolutely fascinating,” interrupted Jo. “And I've made a note of it, so you don't have to keep the receipt. Now, can you tell me – was it worth it? What did you find out?”

“You know, you can be very pushy sometimes. Anyway … around most of the stops I managed to locate some user action – nothing major, just soft legit stuff. I waved the photos of Laser around and five people at three different stops identified him, though none of them could – or would – say where I was likely to find him. They all confirmed, however, that Laser's patch – or perhaps ‘stretch' is a better word – is along the railway like we thought, but none of them had seen him for quite some time.”

“Did you check at the guest house yet?”

“I didn't want to knock on the door and risk frightening her so I phoned instead.”

“No, I can understand that. An elderly lady answering the door to someone she can't see; a disembodied voice asking her awkward questions – very scary.”

“Look, I think you're taking the invisibility thing a bit too literally. It's my new street-fighting-man image that's a bit … well, I'll show you next time I see you.”

“Can't wait. So what did you find out?”

“Well, I asked if she knew where her nephew was – said I was a friend who'd arranged to meet him last night and was wondering why he hadn't turned up. She hadn't seen him for nearly a week, but – very encouragingly – is expecting him any day to pick up the benefit payment she's just collected for him. So tomorrow, I'm bound for Cobham and a stake-out at Chez-le-Nook.”

“And how does your new image assist you in the hunt?”

“So far it's worked pretty well. The biggest challenge is getting back into Linny's without causing a panic. I keep thinking about that scene in
Frankenstein
where all the villagers are marching to the castle carrying flaming torches to burn the place down and kill the monster. I've put the fire extinguisher next to the front door just in case.”

Jo laughed.

“Good luck tomorrow. Keep me posted. Oh, and please be careful.”

“I will. Night.”

“Night.”

Week 11; Thursday, 4 June …

Jack was wearing just his tee shirt and jeans, having discarded the fleece. He looked thin and frail; his fair hair was uncombed and flat to his head and his whole body seemed to have sagged.

“Before we start, can I see Katey again afterwards?” he asked.

The door opened briefly and Jools popped his head in.

“Will do, Jack. We'll extend the session for ten minutes or so.” Mags thought how very young he suddenly looked, and how vulnerable.

“Are you eating, Jack?” she asked, tentatively. “You don't look as though you are.”

He took a long time to reply.

“Not much,” he said. “Can't see the point, really.”

“What about exercise?” Mags realised she was asking obvious, basic questions for the first time.

There was another long silence.

“We have access to a gym and there's an exercise yard. Been out there a few times just to see Jay.” He looked intensely at her and then Tom. “But, as I said, what's the point?”

“Jack, we haven't given up you know. Where there's life …”

“There's shit happening!” Jack completed the sentence for her. “You carry on hoping, Mum. Do it for both of us, because I'm not sure I …”

He stopped, as if he had simply shut down; as if a switch had been thrown inside him. He stared intensely at her for a time, his eyes gradually softening. Finally, he gave her a smile before turning to Tom.

“So, how are things coming along, Dad. Making progress, are we?”

“I'm doing what I can,” said Tom.

“Well, I guess you'll keep me posted.”

Most of the time they sat in silence, but the atmosphere became more relaxed. As they left, he shook hands briefly with Tom and then hugged Mags closely to him for a long time. When they broke off the embrace, his eyes were full of tears.

“Take care, Mum. And please, I want you and Dad to stay friends. You love each other. Everyone knows that. You must take care of each other. Promise me that.”

Mags broke down and Tom could feel his own eyes filling up.

“Of course we will, darling,” she said, choking out the words. “Of course.”

As they left the room, Jack shouted out to the prison officers.

“Is Katey coming? I need to see her.”

“She's on her way, Jack,” said Jools.

*

David had not seen a soul for two-and-a-half hours; which made it all the more remarkable that the first person he did see was the one he was looking for.

A thin, stooping figure in the same shabby hooded top he had been wearing on the CCTV images, scurried furtively up to the front door of The Nook on Ivygreen Avenue. The houses on both sides of the road were small semi-detached dormer-bungalows with reasonably large and neat front gardens and narrow drives. The guesthouse was a conversion of a pair of semis into a single dwelling with a porch added in the middle to form the entrance. The front gardens had been paved to provide off-road parking for up to six cars behind a low brick wall with an iron gate opposite the porch for pedestrian access.

Turning the knob and finding the door locked, Laser hammered impatiently with the knocker, looking anxiously around him as he did so. David, watching from his car a hundred or so yards away, guessed that someone had told him there was a big guy looking for him. Lawrence Harvey Newhouse was decidedly uncomfortable. His aunt eventually opened the door and he almost pushed her over in his haste to get inside.

*

He had a decision to make. It was two hours since Laser had gone into the house and by now David knew there was a good chance he would have seen him waiting in the car.

He started the engine and drove along Ivygreen Avenue, passing The Nook on his left without looking at it, and accelerating fiercely to give the impression he was leaving the area. He turned first left fifty yards beyond the house, and then made two further left turns, taking him round behind the guesthouse and stopping just before he reached Ivygreen again.

He got out, threw the hi-vis jacket he'd been wearing onto the back seat and walked quickly towards the avenue, positioning the clip-on ring on his left ear as he went.

*

Tom sat at his dressing table and opened the small padded box, which held his grandmother's locket and chain. Taking it out, he opened the large oval-shaped pendant and removed the two small photographs of his grandparents, carefully replacing them with a picture of him and Mags in one side and one of Jack and Katey in the other. When he had finished, he looked at them for a long time before his grief overwhelmed him and he sobbed, loudly and uncontrollably.

He got up and put on his sports jacket, placing the locket in the left side pocket and checking for the fifth time the small envelope in the right one. Then he strode from the room, down the stairs and out to his car. He looked at the dashboard clock – 2.40 pm – and eased down the drive and out through the slowly opening gates.

*

As David approached Ivygreen Avenue on foot, he heard the metallic clang of a gate closing. He quickened his pace, looking left as he reached the corner. Laser was heading towards him along the avenue, half-walking, half running and looking back over his shoulder, checking there was no one following him. When he turned to the front again, the two men were no more than five yards apart.

Laser stopped, eyes bulging at the man blocking his way. David moved forward quickly, reaching out and grabbing his left arm just above the elbow.

“It's your lucky day,” said David. “You're obviously in a big hurry, and now you've got a lift.”

“Look …I …” stammered Laser.

“Plenty of time to talk in the car,” said David, increasing the pressure on his arm and turning to walk him the short distance back to where he had parked.

When they reached the car, David spun him round to face it, pushed him hard up against the passenger door, and checked his pockets.

“Lost your screw-driver, Laser?”

“Wha…”

David could feel him trembling, and when he opened the door and shoved him roughly into the seat, he looked as though he was going to burst into tears. David slammed shut the door and went quickly round to get in the driver's side. He grabbed Laser by the chin and twisted his head round towards him, leaning across until their faces were only inches apart.

“Listen, son,” he said, “I have no intention of hurting you – none at all – providing you cooperate, tell me what I want to know, and do exactly what I ask you to do. But if you
don't
cooperate, I promise you I'll break every bone in your body, finishing with your neck. Understood?”

“I haven't done anything.”

“Understood?” David shouted.

Laser gulped and nodded.

“Say it!”

“Understood.”

“Good boy,” said David, releasing his chin and slapping him hard twice on the cheek in acknowledgement. “Now put your seat belt on.”

David started the engine and pulled away. He drove out of the residential area to where the road passed through fields before reaching an abandoned builders' yard. There were still piles of old bricks, timber and breezeblocks lying around the crumbling walled perimeter, but the extensive presence of buddleia and thistle was evidence to its disuse.

He pulled in to the yard, turning sharp left and parking out of sight of the approach road against the boundary wall, close enough to prevent Laser from opening the passenger side door. He switched off the engine and took his mobile from his jeans pocket, pressing the mode button a couple of times and placing it in the hands-free console.

“Okay, Laser, we can do this one of two ways. Either we can sit here in comfort and you agree to everything right away, or I can introduce you to some of the materials round here – bricks, stones, blocks and such like – until you do. Personally I don't mind either way, so you decide. What's it to be?”

“I'll do whatever you want,” whined Laser. “I mean … just tell me. And then you'll let me go, right?”

“Well, let's see how we get on before I start making promises I might not be able to keep.”

Laser looked blank. “Who are you?” he asked. “What am I supposed to have done?”

“I want some information. You share it with me now, and then with the police afterwards. Okay?”

“The police? What information?”

David continued to stare at him.

“Just ask me,” said Laser. “I'll tell you whatever you want to know. I haven't done anything wrong.”

David thought about the thirteen convictions, but said nothing.

“Look,” said Laser. “Just tell me who you are and what you want.”

“I work for this man, see. I tell you, Laser, he's a fucking vicious bastard. He scares the shit out of me – and I don't scare easily.” David prodded him hard in the chest. “Know what I mean?”

Laser nodded jerkily.

“He's a sort of …healer, I suppose you could say. He makes people feel better. At least he supplies the
stuff
that makes them feel better. He's the guy who gets it into the country to the dealers, who get it to the pathetic little people like you. With me so far?”

Laser nodded again.

“But he likes to know the score on the ground. You know, who's doing what on which patch. Not that he
cares
all that much, but he just wants to know. Now you're thinking, why bother himself about that so long as he gets his money. Fair point, Laser, I'm glad you brought that up.”

“But, I …”

“Well, it's the pride he takes in his work, I suppose. Being completely on top of everything; knowing the business, understanding the market; who the really big players are and who the little shits are who are trying to muscle in and poach the big guys' customers.”

Laser opened his mouth to speak.

“Don't worry, Laser, no-one's suggesting you're
that
type of little shit. That type of little shit needs brains and bottle. But that's where I come in. Think of me as a sort of market researcher. Okay? And I know that some time back you approached a new kid on the block – well, he's very much
off
the block now, as it happens. All I need you to do is tell me who put you on to this guy, and what sort of stuff he was dealing. Couldn't be easier, eh?”

David took a brown A4 envelope from the storage pocket of the driver's door and pulled out one of the CCTV stills. It showed Jack speaking to someone who had his back to the camera.

“That's you, right?” he asked. “Not the good looking one; the little toe-rag with the hood.”

Laser looked wide-eyed at the image. “Where'd you get this?” he said.

“Oh, it's not you then?” said David, with feigned surprise and biting sarcasm. “Mistaken identity, is it? Well, I do apologise, Lawrence, old chap. I guess you'd better go then.” He grabbed Laser's chin again, this time forcing his head back against the side window “
Is it you or not?
”

“Yes, yes… ”

“Then what the fuck does it matter where I got it?”

“Okay, okay. It's just that I couldn't be certain. I've got my back to the camera.”

“Well, let's make absolutely sure, then,” said David, releasing him. He removed the other three stills all of which showed Laser's face, one with the hood down.

Laser looked from one to the other and nodded.

“Where was this?” asked David.

“Delaware Street – in Woking.”

“And do you know who this guy is?” David pointed to Jack.

“Yes,” said Laser, in a whisper.

“And you know what's happened to him?”

“Yes.”

“Put away for ever. And fucking good riddance, because he must be one of the new little shits I was talking about. We don't know him; never even heard of him before all this came out. And you don't get the continuity with these bit players, Laser. Unreliable. A quick fifty grand and they're gone.”

He replaced the photographs in the envelope.

“So, tell me, Laser, is he your usual dealer?”

“No, I only saw him twice.”

“And what did you get from him? What was he selling?”

“Fuck all. Well, to me, anyway. I asked him about the stuff and he told me to fuck off. I showed him some big notes; he didn't even look at them.”

“That was the first time?”

“Both times. Second time I thought he was going to stick one on me – or in me. I just did what he said and fucked off. Quick.”

“What stuff did you ask him for?”

“Ex and Speed, that's all.”

“And Brown, and Snorkel, and Crack.”

“No, none of that. Don't do that any more.”

“Really? Says you. Okay, what happened?”

“As I said, nothing, like he didn't know what I was talking about.”

“You're not shitting me, Laser?” said David, reaching across and grabbing the front of his fleece. “I'm a human lie detector, you know. Never wrong. I'll know if you are.”

“Then you'll know I'm telling the truth, right? Why would I lie about it? The guy's fuck all to me, anyway. Little rich bastard got what he deserved.”

“So who's your usual source, Laser? Give me the name of someone I do know.”

“Oh, come on. You can't expect me to tell you that.”

“Okay,” said David, with a shrug. “What would you like to start with? A couple of bricks or that fucking big plank over there?”

“Look, I've answered your questions. You said I could go when I …”

“Are you as fucking stupid as you look?” yelled David, grabbing him by the throat. “This isn't a freaking quiz show. You don't get to answer two questions so you can come back in a week's time for the next round. This is life or death, Laser.
Your
life or
your
death! Do you understand?”