Nick Oldham - The Last Big Job

Henry drew back, smouldering. ‘I haven’t finished with you, Barney. Not by a fucking long chalk. I’ll show you just how I get results by operating with red tape and bureaucracy. The secret is to make it work for you… and I’m very, very good at that.’

‘ Have you returned to earth from the Planet Zog, yet?’ Danny asked Henry in a gentle manner.

They had walked briskly back from Gillrow’s apartment to Los Cristianos, not having realised at the time — because they were having so much fun — how long they had stayed at the ex-detective’s place. They had left at 11.45 a.m. and needed to make the midday meeting with Loz, having arranged to see him at Henry’s hotel room for some further conversation. Ideally they would have preferred to have been in the room, waiting for him, inviting him into their lair, which would have given them the psychological advantage. Now they would be turning up late and flustered.

It was well after twelve when they got into the centre of Los Cristianos, both sweating profusely with the exertion. Henry had not spoken during their journey and Danny had let him have the time and space to brood and reflect. He had been very upset and made angry by Gillrow’s confession — quite understandably — and Danny accepted that. She would have been upset too. As it was, Gillrow’s total disregard for proper practice coupled with his dishonesty made her despise the man, rather than want to throw him over a balcony rail.

They were in the hotel, walking up the flight of steps to their rooms on the first floor, when Danny decided that Henry’s angry silence had gone on long enough. He needed to be in the right frame of mind for their meeting with Loz Brayfield and not take the legacy of his interaction with Gillrow in with him. Hence her playful jibe about that well-known fictional planet.

‘ Yeah,’ he said, and breathed out with relief. He had been carrying the tension with him all the way from Playa de las Americas and Danny had managed to break it with these words. His whole body relaxed visibly. His shoulders fell and a smile returned to his face. He shook his head wryly at his own stupidity. ‘I’d have had some explaining to do if I’d let go, wouldn’t I? I guess I just let the bastard get to me.’

They paused on a landing where the stairs did a 180-degree turn and grinned at each other.

‘ He got to me, too,’ Danny admitted. ‘I could have slapped him. We need to sort him out good and proper.’

Henry placed his hands on her shoulders, gazed into her eyes and said, seriously, but happily, ‘I love you.’

Her eyes shone brightly, captivating him.

They kissed and embraced quickly.

‘ Work to do,’ she said as they parted.

‘ Let’s go and see what our tame toss-bag has for us now,’ Henry said.

They turned, Danny ahead of him, and began to walk up the short flight of steps which would take them up to the first floor.

Loz was sitting on his backside on the corridor floor outside Henry’s room, knees drawn up, arms folded across them, forehead resting on his forearms, sighing with annoyance at their lateness. He had purposely been early for this rendezvous, eager to collect what he had come to regard as his winnings. Another thousand pounds. Only he had no idea what he was going to tell them today for his money. He had already divulged most of what he knew about Crane. He thought he would let Christie ask the questions — which would give him more chance to ogle the woman detective, Furness. Loz could still feel the outline of her bush in his hands and the feel of her soft tits from when he had grabbed her. The memory made him shudder with delight. Maybe he should insist on payment in kind. He sniggered to himself, imagining her giving him a blow job, then looked quickly along the corridor, thinking he’d heard someone coming. But there was no one in sight — just a shadow…

Ivankov had watched Loz leaving Uncle B’s, scuttling down the street like some sort of weasel. It was obvious that Loz was nervous, evidenced by the glances he continually threw over his shoulder, pausing at shop windows, sneaking furtive looks from side to side whilst pretending to inspect the goods on display. Ivankov wondered what he was playing at.

So far, the Russian’s discreet investigations had brought him as far as Loz and the information had been: find Loz and you find Billy Crane. But Crane was not on the scene. There was a whisper about a villa on La Gomera, but nothing more concrete than that. And Ivankov was now getting impatient. He had to get face to face with Crane very soon to satisfy Drozdov. The sooner the better. Having observed Loz, on and off, for over a day, it was getting to the point where Ivankov was going to ask some very direct questions of him. And then dispose of him.

Tailing Loz was easy for Ivankov amongst the holidaymakers. Loz led him through the streets of Los Cristianos, down to the beach-front and along the promenade to a large, modern hotel positioned on a rocky headland across the small bay from the harbour and ferry terminal.

At some point, Loz seemed to have decided that his anti-surveillance tactics were no longer needed and openly walked up the steps leading to the pool, no more looking back, just sheer cockiness. Ivankov followed him around the Lido, which was crowded to bursting with prostrate, sun-worshipping individuals of all shapes and sizes, into the hotel. Inside it was dark, cool and air-conditioned, all smoked glass, shiny metal and creeping vines. Loz headed straight for the elevators. Ivankov peeled away to the reception desk and picked up a car-hire brochure.

This was the point where Ivankov thought he could lose Loz.

He wondered what he was doing here. Could Crane be holed up here following the robbery? Could Loz be doing some running for him, keeping him in touch with developments? Was Loz going to lead Ivankov straight to the man he had been contracted to kill? That would be very agreeable. Ivankov had a good feeling about the whole thing — if only he could keep tabs on Loz inside the hotel.

The Russian placed the brochure back on the rack, strode across the foyer and stepped into the lift after Loz, who pressed the button for the first floor. He made no offer to his fellow traveller about pressing a button for him. Manners was not his strong point. Ivankov leaned across the front of Loz and thumbed ‘Two’.

The lift rose and moments later hissed to a stop at the first floor. Loz got out and turned right, having completely blanked and ignored Ivankov on the short journey.

The contraption could not go up quickly enough for the Russian who, when it reached the second floor, contorted out through the doors as they opened, ran to the stairs and hared down them — hoping not to meet Loz on the way; but Ivankov had made an appraisal of Loz’s mental capabilities in the short time he’d been watching him, scoring him very low on the IQ scale. He did not have the capacity to out-manoeuvre the Russian, nor anyone else for that matter, Ivankov believed.

At the first-floor landing, double swing doors made entirely of smoked, patterned glass, opened out on to the corridor. Ivankov paused. He could hear the murmur of voices further down the stairs, but they were not important to him. He pushed one of the doors slightly open and scrutinised the corridor. Loz was further down, banging impatiently at one of the room doors. The Russian stepped back out of sight, able to hear the banging through the doors. It continued for a while, then there was silence. Ivankov gently opened to door again and looked down the corridor. Loz was now sitting outside the room. The Russian pushed the swing door open a little further and worked out the room number — 117. The door creaked on it hinges, so he moved back on to the landing as Loz raised his head at the noise.