Nick Oldham - The Last Big Job

‘ I won’t disagree with that.’

‘ Not that I’m apologising for it. I think it was totally necessary — and anyway, we needed to put on a little bit of a show for Nikolai.’

‘ What?’ Henry demanded. ‘Couldn’t you have chosen some other poor sod?’ he complained. ‘Anyway, who is this Nikolai bloke?’

‘ Just a new business partner.’

‘ Sounds like a Russian name to me.’

‘ He is Russian… the way of the world now that Communism’s collapsed. They have a lot to offer people like me, people who want to expand.’

‘ I take it you’re talking about the Russian Mafia as opposed to legitimate Russian businessmen?’

‘ Is there such an animal?’

Henry decided to have a stab at the jugular, just to test the water. ‘Did he kill Jacky for you? And if he did, what does he want in exchange? Ten, twenty per cent of your business?’ He knew he had hit a nerve when Thompson shifted uncomfortably for a milli-second and then regained self-control.

‘ Fuck all to do with you, mate.’

‘ It does have something to do with me. I was there when Jacky got slotted, remember, and then I’ve been beaten up as a showcase of your serious intent. I’m a businessman, Gary, not a gangster or a violent sod. I make brass for myself and others, just like Jacky did. Live and let live, that’s my motto.’

‘ You make Jacky sound like an angel — which he is now, of course.’ Gary leaned forwards. ‘He was an out-and-out violent bastard — he’d put a lump of lead into anybody’s skull if he thought they’d stitched him up.’

Henry — Frank — tried to look shocked.

‘ Yeah, it’s true, Frank. All you saw was him being Mr Nice,’

Gary whispered, half-closing his eyes, giving the indication he had imparted a tremendous, earth-shattering secret… and right on cue, Henry’s mobile phone rang.

‘ Just give me a second,’ he said to Thompson, knowing it was Terry Briggs at the other end. ‘Frank Jagger. Hi… yeah… sure..’ He looked quickly up at Thompson and said, ‘Yes, I can talk.’

He listened for a few moments, then: ‘Where do you want it?’ he asked. He listened to the response, then said, ‘How much?… Twenty? I’m not sure about that…’ He gave the impression of cutting himself off in mid-sentence, again looking at Thompson, who was seriously trying to earwig the conversation. Henry took the phone away from his ear and pressed the ‘secret’ button. ‘Look, sorry, Gary.’ He began to get to his feet. ‘Can you spare me a minute? Delicate business.’

Thompson nodded understandingly.

Henry moved stiffly away from the table and walked out of the coffee-house into the reception foyer. ‘Yeah, he’s all ears, Terry. I’ll feed him a few lines… Catch you later.’

He re-entered the coffee shop and slipped in opposite Thompson who was fumbling through his Filofax.

‘ Wankers,’ hissed Henry angrily. He glared at his mobile phone.

‘ Problem?’

‘ No — well, nothing really.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Just a load of gear I need to get shifted PDQ. It’s sticking in a warehouse down South.’ He curled his lips bitterly. ‘Deal just fell through.’

‘ Anything I might be able to help with?’

Oh, come to me, my melancholy baby, Henry wanted to sing. Come to Daddy. He had started to put together a little scam so that even if murder charges could not be pinned on Gary and Gunk, they would have a few handling or conspiracy charges on them at the very least. If Drozdov could be roped in too, what a bonus that would be.

‘ Don’t know if it’s in your field, Gary. Some electronic gear — faxes, phones, about fifty Toshiba laptops… that kind of stuff.’

Thompson considered it. ‘You never know, could be of interest.’ He scratched his nose.

‘ I’d be happy to exchange if you felt you had anything worthwhile,’ Henry suggested.

‘ Let me think about it… but for now, let’s get down to our original business, shall we? Whisky, I think.’

Henry glanced out of the window across Piccadilly. He was not sure whether he covered the shock he felt inside as his throat constricted and his heart fluttered. Detective Superintendent Rupert Davison was crossing the road and heading towards the hotel.

Henry turned quickly back to Thompson, who said, ‘Christ, that coffee’s gone straight through me. I need to piss. Be back shortly.’

‘ Don’t call me shortly,’ Henry laughed — slightly hysterically. He watched Thompson walk across the cafe and down the toilet corridor. Then he spun round to see Davison trotting up the hotel steps, about to blow Henry’s cover as wide open as the legs of a Manchester tart.

The three men were sitting at a table in the garden, under some trees. It was getting hotter by the minute on La Gomera, but the shade from the foliage kept the men cool, as did their long, iced juice drinks.

Hodge had calmed down considerably since his earlier outburst, having been coaxed and soothed by Smith in particular.

‘ What we need to do now, Colin,’ Smith explained, ‘is start to ask you questions so that we can put a plan together. There’s lots of things we need to know about this money run. Routes, personnel — such as, who are the guys you usually do it with? What are their capabilities, their strengths, their weaknesses? Then there’s the technical side of things. What sort of vehicle do you use? What kind of boxes is the money carried in? Will they present any problems to us? How do we get them open? Do they spray dye? All those sorts of things. What do you wear? We’ll probably need to know the exact details of your uniform, headgear. What protection do you carry? How is your journey monitored? What is usual and what is unusual? Can you get away with stopping en route? How lax, or tight, are your procedures? Are the cops informed of your journey? What is your emergency drill?’ Smith shook his head. ‘Lots and lots of things… literally anything we can think of which will help pull this job off with the minimum of fuss and force. And, of course, anything you can tell us that we’ve missed. That’s what today is about — chatting to you. Getting to know you and you getting to know us. When we’ve done all that, found out everything we need, we’ll get back to Los Cristianos and you can have some more fun at our expense while we plan the job.’

‘ I think I should be involved in that.’

‘ You’re right, Colin, we will consult you, but in the end it has to be a plan we are happy with because we are the ones who need to get away — and the getaway is obviously part of it. So, yeah, you’re dead right… but let me and Matt get our heads together first and then we’ll run it past you for your approval. How does that sound?’

Hodge nodded, believing his control was reappearing.

‘ Just remember, Colin,’ Smith said, ‘you’ll be walking away with twenty-five million in your hands.’

A smile crept over Hodge’s greedy little face.

Smith and Crane stood up. Smith said, ‘We’ll be back in five minutes with a tape-recorder. We don’t want to miss anything.’

They left Hodge at the table.

Once out of earshot, Crane growled, ‘He gets nothing ‘cept for a bullet in the head.’

Henry slithered down in his chair, squirming with acute indecision, wishing that hell would open up beneath him and drag him down into a fiery dungeon. Should he try to hide himself by turning his back on Davison and hope he did not get spotted, or should he go and meet the guy and drag him across the foyer and into the restaurant opposite and risk drawing unwelcome attention to the situation?

All it needed was for Thompson to have someone sitting in the cafe who Henry did not know, surveilling him, and he was knackered.