KILL ME IF YOU CAN (Dave Cunane Book 8) (34 page)

‘You don’t need to be like that, Mr Cunane,’ she said cattily, ‘spying on you was your own relative’s idea so maybe he thought there was no smoke without fire?’

‘Hmmm, I suppose one proverb deserves another but just get out of here before I change my mind.’

I put her phone down on the table in front of her giving the battery to Lee.

‘She gets the battery when you kiss her goodbye.’

They left quickly but before departure I made sure Clint understood his part and I also retrieved the bullets for the Glock.

When they’d gone I made myself a cup of coffee. It was the last thing I needed because I was already wired but it seemed like the thing to do. I went into one of the reception rooms and sat back on the sofa. My mind was buzzing. What was I going to do when I learned the name of Lew’s mystery plotter? I’d have to give the book to Claverhouse and Appleyard but it was hard to trust them. Brendan Cullen yes, but it was impossible to know which side of the fence Claverhouse and Appleyard were really on.

No, I’d have to play it the way Lew had originally wanted. He didn’t trust anyone official. He’d wanted me to be his avenging angel and had gone to a lot of trouble to make sure he had the right man. I guessed that Lew was one of those people who know how to get rich and stay rich. He’d married a rich woman and never spent a penny since or made an investment without thorough research. How long had he known he might need me, ‘a man capable of drastic measures’ as he believed? Or had he only started investigating me when he decided to entrust me with his massive fortune? Whatever the reason was he’d enmeshed me in his web.

There was also the thought that the old prude probably stuck a pretty young woman in my office to see if I’d given up my bed-hopping ways.

So when the notebook arrived I’d have the mystery plotter’s name: Joe Bloggs for the sake of argument. Then I was supposed to set myself up as judge, jury and executioner and kill Mr J Bloggs? I didn’t think so. The best I could hope for now was to make a deal with Joseph Bloggs Esquire: immunity in return for my silence.

Was such immunity even remotely possible?

Joe Bloggs was powerful, might even be on the point of achieving supreme power. Wouldn’t he squash me like a bug as soon as I came into his range? The best solution for Jan and the children might be if I picked up the Glock and blew my brains out.

No, that wouldn’t happen.

I took the Glock and put it into Bob’s rucksack and after a moment’s thought went upstairs for the Uzi and the bullet proof jackets and packed them as well. Things were getting lively and I might need them in a hurry. It was better to be safe than sorry. Always careful not to offend my tender minder assistants I put the rucksack away in a cupboard.

I would try to lie low and keep out of things; maybe slip off to Ireland and take the family to the Italian villa. Everything might blow over. How could an individual be expected to influence events on this scale?

It was too much and I must have fallen asleep at that point.

When I came to the Aunty Velmore phone was ringing.

Time had passed and my sidekicks hadn’t returned. It was nearly eight a.m. Something must have gone wrong. That cunning woman had tricked them. I should never have let her go.

The phone rang insistently.

I picked it up.

‘Dave, I got your text,’ Marvin said throatily.

‘Marvin, I’m so sorry. I texted you because I didn’t want to wake you up early.’

‘Man, I sleep with the phone right next to me. You woke up Cissy and she kick me out of bed.’

Cissy, aka Cecilia Roebuck, is Marvin’s partner.

‘So I’m up and I t’ink I might as well go down to the office right there and then an take a look and there it is. GKY is charging the estate for special business research. It started with at an initial cost of three and a half grand and is marked “continuing” at five hundred a week for the last three months. I’ve already queried this and the man at GKY came over all vague on me ... he don’ know what it is, some private research they’re doing for Sir Lew.’

‘Spying on me, that’s what the research is.’

I filled him in on the details.

‘Dave, you know GKY are the guys who complained to the Law Society ’bout me after I started calling my business DQW for a laugh. The word on them is that GKY stands for Go Kill Yourself and they don’ like a one man firm taking the piss out of them.’

‘So now you’ll be able to get your own back.’

‘Best not Dave, they employ hundreds of people and I’m still one man. They’d wear me down.’

‘OK, but you can tell them we’re challenging that part of their bill and tell them exactly why.’

‘I’d like to do that Dave but as your lawyer I must advise you that it’s better to pay up and shut up. A big firm like GKY will just drag you through the courts with appeals and delays and you’ll end up paying much more than what they’re charging for your uncle’s little game and I guess they don’t feel they owe you any favours after you let me take the Weldsley Estate business away from them.’

‘Well …’

‘Listen Dave, mon, accentuate de positive. This girl was clever enough to get two people to pay her wages for the same work and then to hide in plain sight but you got her. You’re like a terrier Dave, once you get your teeth in you don’ let go.’

‘Thanks for the advice Marvin. Do what you think best about GKY.’

‘Do you want me to come and look at the notebook wit’ you? Be a witness, like.’

‘Marvin, these people have already tried to kill me four times because they thought I’d had a look at it. It wouldn’t be healthy for you to take a peek.’

‘Go on.’

‘No. I’m not going to cause Cissy a load of grief by getting you killed. I feel bad enough about what Shaka Higgings did to you.’

He laughed and closed the call.

36

Friday: 8.10 a.m.

I heard the car pull up outside.

Clint, Tony and Lee were in it and Tony was holding up a sealed envelope.

They’d got the notebook.

They rushed into the house.

‘We put her on the eight o’clock London train,’ Tony started.

‘Forget about her,’ I snapped. ‘She’s not important now.’

‘Tony and Lee paid for her ticket,’ Clint said.

‘Hey, Jaws, zip it up,’ Lee warned.

My heart had already started pounding but before ripping the notebook out of the envelope I remembered what I’d said to Marvin about the danger of knowing too much. My associates had gathered round to share any discovery.

‘Guys, it’s better if I do this alone,’ I said, ‘then if you need to deny that you know anything you can be convincing.’

‘You’re wrong, Dave, if we get to the stage where we’re denying things it’ll already be too late,’ Tony said. ‘Knowing things might help us live a little longer. We’re all in this together or we’re out. Just say the word and we’ll go.’

‘Damn right,’ muttered Lee.

I decided to make no further noble but pointless statements of the bleeding obvious.

The envelope was exactly the same as I’d left it on Monday when I’d swathed it in three yards of Sellotape. It didn’t appear to have been opened.

‘Where was it?’

‘You know the office has a suspended ceiling?’ Tony said.

‘I should, I had it installed.’

‘Pauline just went into the office, climbed on the desk, pushed up a ceiling tile and pulled this out. We’d have found it if we’d searched but we didn’t even look.’

‘Why would you? But has it been tampered with since Monday?’

‘Let me make sure,’ Tony insisted.

Reluctantly I parted company with the envelope.

He examined it under a strong light.

‘This hasn’t been opened, Dave. See the outer layer of paper covering the padded envelope?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s thin and tears easily. It’s layered for security reasons. These envelopes are used for high value goods; passports, cash, jewellery and stuff. If you stick it up with extra Sellotape like you did, then you’ll tear the outer skin when you take the tape off and you can see if it’s been tampered with. This hasn’t. There’s no way anyone could remove all this Sellotape without ripping the paper and I can see where you wrote Private and Confidential and signed it in your handwriting so it’s the same envelope.’

He was convincing but MI5 have the resources to swap the envelope and copy the handwriting but as I couldn’t imagine why they would bother I kept my mouth shut. I found a sharp knife, slashed the tape and pulled out the notebook.

It appeared to be the same notebook I’d handled on Monday: small, about four and a half inches by three and bound in luxurious black leather. The letters LG were embossed in gold on the top right hand corner.

Scarcely daring to breathe I opened it.

Tony stood behind me, observing intently over my right shoulder. It was annoying but he wanted to be in this for keeps so what could I say?

Lee and Clint had already started to look for something to eat. 

The first few pages were a disappointment.

‘They’ll be passwords,’ Tony commented, ‘Neladgam43, wife’s name and year of her birth and the others are more of the same; how very, very careless of you, Uncle Lew.’

‘Runs in the family,’ I muttered, thinking of the ease with which Fothergill/Milner had cracked my security.

I turned the page over.

There were names of Manchester and London churches with times attached.

‘Mass times,’ Tony explained.

‘Yes, he was a very pious man, Uncle Lew, but that didn’t stop him sharing another man’s wife,’ I said sourly.

‘Dave, your uncle’s left you millions and you sound as if you don’t like him.’

‘Listen Tony, when I went to bed on Sunday evening I was a happy man, with a family and my own business …’

‘A struggling business.’

‘Whatever! But compared to now I hadn’t a care in the world and that’s down to dear old Uncle Lew.’

‘Come on, Dave, things were worse when you were banged up with the nonces in Strangeways.’

‘Maybe,’ I conceded.

I repressed the memory of Tony spitting in my face. He gave me a very serious look so perhaps he was remembering the same event.

I turned more pages over. They were filled with appointments, shopping lists, addresses, every kind of mundane detail that a busy man might need to note down and they were in no kind of order and gave away nothing about his enquiries. I remembered that Lew was under sentence of death from cancer when he wrote all this. His filing system involved putting a line through the appointments he’d completed. Last week’s appointment at the Bluewater Shopping Centre, Hithe, Kent was listed but the name of the appointee wasn’t.

If I had a month I could retrace his movements and perhaps come up whatever had led him to the existence of the plot but I didn’t have a month.

It wasn’t until the very last few pages that I found what I was looking for.

My heart was already beating fast, now it almost jumped out of my chest because across the top of the page was the name
M.O.Lochhead and Sons, Ltd
, underlined. Underneath it this was written:

‘David,

Should you decide to do what I will ask tomorrow, you will need to contact Margaret Pickering, the wife of my very dear friend, Alban Pickering. If you ask the code question I will write below she will reply with the code phrase listed here. She will then do a further check by asking you a question only you can answer. She very likely will take further precautions and only then will she give you Alban’s current location, phone number etc.

It is essential you follow these procedures correctly and are word perfect or she will not respond. This may all seem childish to you but following just such procedure has saved many lives in the past.

Alban is a close friend and the son of a close friend. I trust him with my life, such as it is. He is as concerned as I am by the gravity of the plot against our dear country and would, himself, dearly like to take the measure I will propose to you. However he is watched day and night and the slightest diversion from routine on his part will lead not only to his death but the death of his family.

You
are our only chance of success: a resourceful man with a capacity for violence whose ability is unknown to our enemy.

Alban will give you the name and also provide you with the equipment you will need for your task. I’m afraid the game is up for me. The man visited me this evening (Sunday). He came to gloat.

If I’d been armed I’d have killed him but I wasn’t and his guard was alert. He went under the name of Rick Appleyard which is only a work name. Alban knows who the creature really is but despite all my pleading he won’t give me the name but has decided on one last attempt at persuasion for the good of the service. I can only hope he succeeds. If he does Alban will order you to stand down. If he fails he will name the man to you and give you all the support he can. The rest is up to you.

I can only stress again that without this individual at the helm this plot cannot succeed.

One further thing.

The man calling himself Appleyard is arrogant and like many criminals thinks no-one is as clever as himself. I asked him for a number I could phone if I changed my mind about cooperating and he told his bodyguard, a former soldier whom he addressed as Lansdale, to give him a piece of paper. The bodyguard had a small notepad from which he tore a sheet. Appleyard then wrote down a mobile phone number which, as I’m sure he knew very well, does not exist. However on tracing over the paper with a pencil I found that the following had been previously written on the pad.

Technetium-99m now complete … Caesium-137 material still arriving ... 8.5 metric tons R/W now available … dump at M.O.Lochhead and Sons Ltd w/h … X-day Saturday asr … wind … strong breeze 25-30 mph westerly

I believe this gives clues about the method they will use to implement their plot and the timing. I have relayed this information to Alban so he may be able to clarify the meaning. I’m sure the name M.O.Lochhead is significant.

Margaret Pickering can be reached on 0298 2906826. She will answer with her full name. You will say “Mrs Pickering I’m calling on behalf of the Green Energy Solar Panel Company. Do you know the Government is helping us to offer you a very good deal on solar panels?”

She will say “No thank you. The way the climate is now I don’t think solar panels are any use to me. Please don’t phone again.’

If satisfied she will then call your number, using a secure phone. She will ask a special question. If you answer correctly she will give you the information you need about Alban.

David, whatever choice you make I wish you the best of everything and I apologise for ever doubting you and believing the worst. Quite by chance my friend Mrs Elsworth revealed your true nature to me. I believe you will be a worthy custodian of my late wife’s inheritance,

                            With fondest regards,

             
                                          Lew

I was stunned. I hardly noticed when Tony plucked the notebook from my fingers. I’d been pinning so much on having a name, a person I could plead my case with.

Tony disappeared into the computer room.

I looked at my watch. It was nine o’clock. If the cloak for my call to Margaret Pickering was to pose as a cold-caller now was the time to for it. I dashed upstairs for the anonymous mobiles Tony had delivered yesterday. They were fully charged. It took me a moment to note down the numbers then I went down, grabbed the notebook back off Tony who’d already scribbled down the info and called Margaret Pickering’s number.

She picked up at once.

‘Margaret Pickering.’

I intoned Lew’s pass phrase into the phone. I said each word carefully and deliberately, avoiding any slip.

There was a pause of several seconds before she replied. My heart was in my mouth, and then she came back with the correct answer. Her words were not spoken with the polished, upper class diction I’d been expecting. This lady sounded a lot like Granny Clarrie, an East Ender. I broke the call and put the phone down. It rang immediately.

‘What did the boy hide behind the sofa?’

It took me a second or two to gather my wits. It wasn’t what I’d been expecting. Lew, Aunty Magdalen, Weldsley … then my brain made the link.

‘He hid a broken china cup.’

‘Yes, that’s what I’ve got here. Now listen, have you got another mobile, if you have one call me on this number. I don’t want to make things easy for them.’

As soon as I muttered yes, she ended the call.

I phoned her on a second unregistered phone.

‘Sorry for the telephone games, but they’re necessary,’ she said when she replied. ‘You’re the judge’s special man, aren’t you?’

‘Yes,’ I said cautiously.

‘I’m going out of my mind with worry about my husband. I’m supposed to put you in touch with him but when I call the number he left me I just get nothing. His phone’s switched off, which never happens with him. Something’s wrong. He’s never out of touch.’

Her anxiety transmitted itself to me and magnified a hundred times in my mind but I struggled to keep a grip.

‘There could be any number of explanations.’

‘No, it’s bad. I know it. I’ve been half expecting it since he opposed that monster’s plan.’

‘Do you know the man’s name?’

‘No, er … my husband would never tell me. He said they knew he didn’t tell his wife things and that would save my life if anything happened to him.’

‘Tell me what he did after he received the judge’s news on Sunday.’

‘That’s what’s caused this! He dashed off back up north.’

‘Where? I think you can say … our phones are secure.’

‘Secure, that’s a joke.  There is some warehouse up there, in Corrieland, you know … in a big city. He had to check it before confronting the swine who’s doing these things and trying to get him to stop. I argued with him but he said he had to take a chance for the good of the service and now look what’s happened. I’m now a widow for the good of the service.’

‘We don’t know what’s happened but you’ve given me an idea and I’ll try to track him down.’

‘He’s dead! I know it.’

‘You can’t be certain of that. Give me the number just in case.’

She said it quickly and I made her repeat it.

‘It’s no use. I’m certain he’s dead. Listen if you have a wife and children don’t be like … like my poor, loyal, flag-saluting chump of a husband. Put them first. Get on a plane to America or Australia. Whatever happens here won’t affect them.’

‘I’m committed and I have to go on.’

‘Brave, are you? It’s better to be alive if you ask me. My husband only wanted to use you as a last resort but first the judge has gone and now him. You are the last resort whoever you are. I hope to God you’re as good and as lucky as I was told you are.’