Stephen Leather - False Friends

‘Piss off, Razor.’

‘Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,’ said Sharpe. ‘Button’s as smart as they come, you know that. She’s going to protect her turf.’

‘I’m not her turf,’ said Shepherd.

‘Yeah, you’re more her bitch than her turf.’

‘Now you’re really starting to piss me off.’

‘You work for her. You moved with her from SOCA to Five; you’re part of her team. She sees Hargrove as a threat and Charlotte Button isn’t a woman you can threaten.’

‘Hell’s bells, Razor. Hargrove wanted me because he knows I can do the arms-dealer thing. He knows I’ve no interest in moving back to the Met.’

‘Yeah, well, maybe he’s sort of hoping that you might.’

Shepherd’s eyes narrowed. ‘Did he say something?’

Sharpe shook his head. ‘Not in so many words.’

‘What words, then? Come on, Razor, spit it out.’

Sharpe sipped his lager slowly, then put his glass down before answering. ‘Okay, he said it would be good to get the old team back together. He reckons that the pendulum is going to start swinging the other way and that we’re going to be given the go-ahead to start taking down the big guys.’

‘So what are you saying? He asked for me so that he could persuade me to leave Five?’

‘There you go, putting words into my mouth. No, of course he didn’t come straight out and say that. But he definitely wanted you on this operation.’

Shepherd sighed. ‘Why are people so bloody devious?’ he muttered. ‘Aren’t we supposed to be on the same side?’

‘If Hargrove does want you in COG he can’t come out and ask you, can he?’

‘Why not?’

‘Because then Button will accuse him of poaching her staff. He’s got to wait for you to ask him and this could be a way of him testing the water.’ He sipped his lager. ‘Have you thought about it? Coming back to the cops?’

Shepherd snorted dismissively. ‘And know that every move I made was being second-guessed by box-tickers and accountants? And everything I did could be splashed across the newspapers at any point? I don’t know why anyone would be a cop these days. Wouldn’t want to be in SOCA again either.’

‘Like I said, Hargrove says it’s going to change.’

‘Yeah, well, it’s not up to him, is it? But it’s not just the job, it’s the attitude. If a cop makes a mistake he gets hung out to dry. If you’re in CO19 and you fire your weapon you’re on automatic suspension until the shooting is investigated. And effectively you’re guilty until proven innocent. You make a decision in the heat of the moment because you think it’s the right thing to do, but you’re then judged by pricks who never leave their offices unless it’s to get into the back of a chauffeur-driven car. Five is totally different, Razor. Everything I do is covered by the Official Secrets Act. No newspaper is going to splash my picture across the front page; no MP is going to call for my head because he wants to appease his constituents. Five looks after its own.’

‘Hargrove always had our backs,’ said Sharpe.

Shepherd nodded. ‘Yeah, he’s old school. But he’s just one brick in the wall. Say this operation goes tits up. Say we end up putting a round in one of those guys. Do you think Hargrove will be able to protect us?’

‘You’re not planning on shooting anybody, are you?’ asked Sharpe. He grinned slyly.

‘Just you, you soft bastard.’

‘You think you could take me?’

‘One-handed,’ said Shepherd.

Shepherd was making himself a coffee when his John Whitehill phone rang. He had spent three hours drinking with Sharpe and while he was far from drunk he was still a little light-headed. It was Chaudhry.

‘Hey, Raj, how’re things?’ he said, speaking slightly slower than usual to make sure that he didn’t slur his words.

‘I’ve something to tell you,’ said Chaudhry.

‘Go ahead, I’m all ears,’ said Shepherd, pouring milk into his coffee.

‘Can we meet?’

‘Tonight?’

‘I don’t want to forget anything and I don’t want to write it down,’ said Chaudhry. ‘My memory’s not as good as yours.’

‘You’re a medical student. You have to memorise millions of facts,’ said Shepherd.

‘Which is why there’s no room for anything else,’ said Chaudhry. ‘Look, I just met with Khalid. There’s some stuff you need to know.’

‘I can see you, but I can’t drive,’ said Shepherd.

‘I’ll come to you. I can see you on the Heath.’

‘Two guys on Hampstead Heath at night? Not sure that’s a good idea.’

Chaudhry laughed. ‘Don’t worry, John, you’re not my type. Look, I can cycle over and I’ll be careful. No one’s going to follow me on the bike.’

Shepherd took a sip of his coffee. ‘Okay, come to the east side of the Heath. There’s a petanque pitch there.’

‘A what?’

‘That game where you toss balls. Boules , the French call it. It’s near the bandstand, fairly close to the road. I’ll get there first. If everything’s okay I’ll be wearing a baseball cap. If I’m not wearing a cap don’t come near me. Just go back home and wait for me to contact you.’

‘You think someone might be following you?’

‘No, but it’s always a good idea to have a fallback position.’

Shepherd ended the call. He finished his coffee, picked up his coat and a baseball cap off a hook by the door, and headed out.

He spent fifteen minutes strolling around the Heath making sure that he wasn’t being followed. He did get two very nice smiles, one from a sixty-year-old man in a cashmere coat and a trilby, another from a teenager in a black leather motorcycle jacket.

He did a quick walk round the petanque pitch, then sat down on a bench and put on his cap. Chaudhry was on time, pushing his bicycle. He was wearing his duffel coat with the hood up. He leaned the bike against the bench and sat down.

‘Are you okay, Raj?’ asked Shepherd.

‘I’m fine,’ said Chaudhry. He grinned at the baseball cap. ‘You really don’t suit that,’ he said. He pulled his hood down. ‘You’re about ten years too old for it.’

Shepherd took it off. ‘Yeah, I was going to suggest holding a newspaper but as it’s dark I thought that would just look plain silly. So what’s up?’

Chaudhry folded his arms. ‘Khalid wanted me and Harvey to talk to a couple of young guys who are on their way to Pakistan. We had dinner.’

‘Nice,’ said Shepherd.

‘They’re off to a training camp next week. Not the one that we went to, a new one.’

‘Do you know where it is?’

‘Closer to the border, he said. These guys are from the mosque. Khalid has recruited them the way he recruited me and Harvey. He did the same with us, introduced us to a couple of veterans before we went out to Pakistan. Now we’re the veterans.’

‘That’s how it works,’ said Shepherd. ‘Making you all feel part of the process, you against the world. It binds you together.’

‘They’re both students at South Bank University. Sociology, would you believe? One is Lateef Panhwar. The other is his pal, Faisal. Didn’t get his surname. They’re both from Derby, up north. And they’re flying out next Wednesday on PIA.’

‘That’s terrific, Raj. Thanks.’

‘What will you do?’

‘We’ll see if anything’s known about them. Then we’ll arrange to have them followed in Pakistan, and hopefully nail down the location of the training camp.’

‘They’re nutters, John. Serious nutters. They were talking about shooting down planes at Heathrow.’

‘Now that they’re on our radar we’ll be on their case twenty-four seven,’ said Shepherd.

‘So I did good?’

‘You did great, Raj. Really.’