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Authors: Robert Muchamore

The Killing (31 page)

BOOK: The Killing
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‘How?’

James was grinning after John explained. ‘That is
 
so
 
gross, John.’

‘What’s funny?’ Hannah asked, as James came back into the room and shut his mobile.

‘Nothing,’ James said tetchily.

‘I thought your social worker was called Zara.’

‘She is.’

‘But you were talking to someone called John. And why did you have to leave the room?’

‘I couldn’t hear with the music on,’ James said.

‘You’d better tell me what’s going on, James. Are you seeing someone else?’

‘Don’t be daft …’ James said, wishing he’d made some excuse not to let Hannah in earlier on.

‘You’re lying to me about something, James, and I don’t like it.’

James turned back angrily. ‘Well I don’t like
 
you
 
spying on me. For your information, that was an old mate from when I was in foster care. I’m going out to meet him down the West End.’

Hannah looked pissed off as she slid her feet into her sandals and set off towards the front door. ‘James, if you’re gonna start treating me like an idiot, you can stick it.’

James didn’t want to upset Hannah, but he had to get rid of her fast. ‘Look, I haven’t got time right now. I’ll call you later.’

Hannah stopped briefly as she stormed down the hallway. ‘Don’t bother.’

As the front door slammed, James raced into the kitchen and found a couple of Sainsbury’s carrier bags. He grabbed his keys, mobile and two-way radio before heading out on to the balcony. He caught a glance of Hannah, angrily fumbling with her front door key and disappearing into her flat.

James ran down to the ground floor, wondering if he’d blown it with Hannah Clarke. Two days earlier that would have made him sad, but the kiss off Kerry had changed everything.

11:21

Back in the hotel suite there’d been a scramble to make Chloe look like a police officer. They didn’t have a uniform and even if they’d been able to get one of Millie’s, they wouldn’t have had time to alter it for Chloe’s much shorter figure. Making a warrant card was easier. John had a shoebox packed with wallets and insignia that could turn you into anything from an emergency repairman for Thames Water to a captain in the Royal Marines.

Lauren snapped Chloe’s photo with her digital camera, while Kerry typed a name and number into a warrant card template on one of the computers. By the time Chloe emerged from her room across the hallway, dressed in flat shoes and a plain blue skirt, John had printed, trimmed and laminated her police ID, before slipping it into a fold-out wallet printed with a Metropolitan Police crest.

Nobody had told Dave what was happening, so he was surprised to see Chloe pull on to the lot in the yellow Mitsubishi he’d used to take Kerry home the night before. Leon came down the steps of his cabin with his special customer grin.

‘Good morning, my dear,’ Leon said, as Chloe stepped out of the car. ‘How can I help you? If you’re looking for something bigger than the Colt, I’m sure I could do you an excellent trade-in.’

Chloe put her handbag on the roof of her car. She felt like an idiot as she rummaged for the warrant card. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing a real police officer would have done.

‘Sergeant Megan Handler,’ Chloe said, as she flipped open the warrant card. ‘Vehicle inspectorate, Bow Road.’

Leon’s expression drooped. ‘What can I help you with, officer?’

‘A little bird told me that some of the cars you’re selling here might not be kosher,’ Chloe explained.

‘Did he now,’ Leon said, shaking his head knowingly. ‘I wonder who might have done that.’

Dave smiled discreetly as he overheard. This hadn’t been part of the original plan, but he immediately realised that it was a neat way of making Patel and
Tarasov
even madder at each other.

‘Do you mind if I have a little look at your stock?’ Chloe asked.

‘Have you got a warrant?’

‘No, but if you make me get one I’ll come back with three uniformed officers and I bet you won’t sell a single car while they spend half a day poking around.’

Leon stepped back and spread his arms out wide. ‘I tell you what, sweetheart: go ahead, knock yourself out. You’ll find nothing out of order here.’

‘Thank you, Mr
Tarasov
,’ Chloe said. ‘I appreciate your cooperation.’

Leon kept the false grin stretched over his face as he walked back towards the cabin. Once the door was shut, he crashed at his desk and glowered at Pete, who was doing the accounts on the computer.

‘Patel must be losing it,’ Leon said. ‘That piece of skirt was a cop. Says she’s had a tip-off.’

Pete looked away from the screen. ‘There was nothing wrong with that BMW, uncle. It came from the dealer without a scrape on it. I can’t work out what kind of scam Patel’s trying to pull.’

Leon shrugged bitterly. ‘Join the club, nephew. Join the
sodding
club.’

11:24

James hurried towards the community centre, searching in the gutter as he walked. He spotted what he was looking for behind the rear wheel of a
scaffolder’s
truck. After putting both Sainsbury’s carrier bags over his left hand, he looked up and down the street to make sure nobody was coming and tried not thinking about what he was going to do.

He put one trainer in the gutter and crouched down low. A dozen bluebottles whizzed away as he put the covered hand over a giant pile of dog mess and picked it up. As it squished nauseatingly between finger and thumb, James used his free hand to turn the bags inside out, so that the
turd
was in the bottom.

34. STINK

 

12:08

While Chloe took her time inspecting the cars at
Tarasov
Prestige Motors, John was running the show back at the hotel. He left Lauren and Kerry in charge of the computers for a couple of minutes, taking advantage of an apparently quiet moment to go into his bedroom and strip off the garish Auto Club uniform.

Not long after John closed his bedroom door, a red warning box popped on to the screen in front of Lauren:
 
Mobile 3 – Incoming call
.

Lauren panicked. ‘Shall I call John?’

‘Let him change,’ Kerry said, calmly. ‘Just double-check the communications properties to make sure the call is being recorded.’

Lauren right-clicked the mouse and a list of parameters popped up on screen. Kerry pointed at one of them.

‘There, it’s automatically being recorded on to tape drive number five. Now, all you have to do is write the start time and details into the manual ledger.’

‘Chloe makes it look really simple when she’s running this,’ Lauren said, as she fumbled for a pencil.

12:09

There were fifty chairs set out in the main hall of Palm Hill community centre, but less than a dozen were occupied. Millie sat next to Michael Patel in the front row, while a man from the council stood up front giving a speech about an
 
exciting initiative
to
improve street lighting around Palm Hill.

‘Sorry, Mil,’ Michael whispered, as he grabbed the vibrating mobile out of his pocket and saw it was his wife. ‘I’d better take this.’

Michael answered his mobile as he scurried through the double doors at the rear of the hall, stepping into a corridor that smelled of floor polish. ‘Patricia, hi.’

‘So, what did Leon say?’ she asked anxiously.

‘He tried to fob me off with some
bullcrap
about sending out a mechanic.’

‘I want to see
 
all
 
of that money back, Michael.’

‘I’m going over there after this meeting. I’ve told him I’m expecting the full whack.’

‘Don’t let him knock you down, Mike. We know enough about that sod to have him sent to prison for a very long time.’

‘I know we do,’ Michael said. ‘But that cuts both ways, doesn’t it? We’ve got to handle this delicately.’

‘Charlotte could have been
 
killed
 
in that death trap,’ Patricia steamed. ‘I can’t believe our baby was going round in a car that could have broken apart. I swear, if I got my hands on
Tarasov
right now, I could happily take a knife and stick him.’

‘Pat, you know I feel the same as you,’ Michael said. ‘But that kind of talk gets us nowhere.’

‘So when does your meeting end? When are you going over to
Tarasov’s
?’

‘It’s really dragging. We’re not even halfway down the agenda.’

‘Can’t you make an excuse?’

Michael thought for a couple of seconds. ‘Yeah … I suppose I could.’

‘I think you should get over to Leon’s and sort this as soon as you can.’

Michael nodded. ‘You know what, Pat? You’re right. I can’t think straight while this is going round in my head. I’ll tell Millie you called to say that Charlotte’s sick and I’ve got to pick her up from nursery.’

12:13

Kerry burst into John’s bedroom. ‘Michael Patel’s gonna make an excuse and head over to Leon’s right now.’

‘Balls,’ John gasped. He rushed into the adjoining room, with no shoes on and his shirt buttons undone. ‘Lauren, call your brother on the two-way and tell him it’s action stations. Kerry, contact Dave on his mobile. I’ll call Chloe and tell her to clear out of the lot
sharpish
, then I’ll contact the cops in the vans.’

12:14

James was in the gents’ toilets at the community centre when Lauren called to say that Michael was on the move. He dried his hands rapidly and stepped out into the corridor as Michael jogged past without recognising him. James followed him around a corner, then held back as he pushed through a set of doors and out into the car park.

Michael pulled out the keys for a police Astra and unlocked. As he grabbed the handle to open the door, he felt the tips of his fingers glide through something soft. He pulled his hand away sharply, then stood stunned as he caught the smell and it dawned that he’d just stuck the fingers of his right hand into dog mess smeared under the handle.

James watched through the doors, as Michael pounded on his car and screamed a torrent of foul language. It felt like sweet revenge for banging his head against the car. He pushed the door open and stepped out into the sunshine.

‘Something the matter, officer?’ James grinned, keeping a safe distance.


You
,’ Patel snarled, glowering at James. ‘You did this?’

‘Me, officer?’ James said, acting all offended. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘You
 
wait
,’ Michael shouted. ‘I’m not having you now, ’cos I’ve got to be somewhere else; but you’ll be coming home from school one night and I’ll have a couple of my mates throw you in the back of a van. We’ll wipe that smile off your little face; mark my words, James Holmes.’

James was struggling not to laugh. ‘You’d better make sure it’s not being videoed this time, officer. My solicitor says you’ll be kicked off the force when they show the tape of what you did to my head. And I’m gonna be up for a few grand’s worth of compensation.’

‘You think you’re
 
smart
,’ Patel foamed, with veins bulging in his neck and his eyes set to explode out of his head.

‘Well, I might not be smart,’ James shrugged. ‘But at least I’m not the dude with dog crap all over me.’

12:33

Michael had used the community centre toilets and doused his hands with about twenty squirts of soap, but he still didn’t feel properly clean as he swung the police car violently into the lot, going way too fast. The sight of Leon’s XJ8 was more than Mike could take. He bumped it at low speed, nudging the Jag into the brick toilet and shattering a front indicator light.

Leon bowled angrily out of the cabin as Michael opened the car door.

‘You dumb prick,’ Leon screamed. ‘What do you think you’re playing at?’

‘Have you got my money?’ Michael steamed. ‘Cash or cheque, I don’t care how it comes but I want it
 
now
.’

‘What money, Mike? I sold you a good car and suddenly you’re trying to pull some scam. Asking for money and grassing me up to the vehicle inspectorate.’

‘I didn’t grass anybody up.’

‘What? You expect me to believe it’s coincidence that this is the morning a policewoman just happens to turn up asking to look at my stock?’

‘That’s nothing to do with me, Leon. I want my seventeen grand, then I want you out of my life.’

Leon aimed his finger at the gates. ‘Get off this lot, Patel. Cop or no cop. I don’t know what your game is, but you’re not scamming me for seventeen grand. You’re not getting seventeen pence.’

‘My family could have
 
died
 
in that car,’ Michael screamed. He swung a punch, but his fist plunged harmlessly into a layer of fat. Leon grabbed Michael by his lapels, slammed his back against the police car and planted a gigantic fist in his face.

BOOK: The Killing
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