Stephen Leather - The Double Tap

Cramer could get no information from the writing on the flask so he put it back in its cut-out in the case. He really wanted to ask the Russian what was inside the flask, but that was out of the question: Vander Mayer would obviously know what the Russian was bringing him. ‘How much does it cost?’ he asked.

Su-ming translated and the Russian replied with a careless shrug. ‘It depends on how much you want,’ she said. ‘The base price is four hundred thousand dollars for a kilogram.’

The Russian closed the case. ‘Ask him how much he can get hold of,’ Cramer asked.

Su-ming spoke to Tarlanov in Russian. He nodded, then turned and headed towards the door. Cramer realised that Su-ming had told him the meeting was over. She dashed ahead of the Russian and opened the door, ushering him out before Cramer could protest.

As soon as the Russian stepped out of the inner office, Su-ming closed the door and stood with her back to it, her eyes flashing. ‘You weren’t supposed to ask him anything,’ she said. ‘Mr Vander Mayer said you were only to take delivery of the consignment. You didn’t do as you were told.’

‘He’s your boss, not mine.’

‘You could have ruined everything.’

Cramer shrugged dismissively. ‘That’s not my problem.’ He pointed at the case. ‘Now, what the hell is that? What’s so important that it’s made in a Russian military city and it costs four hundred thousand dollars a kilogram?’

‘It doesn’t concern you.’

‘You’re wrong, Su-ming. You’re dead wrong. I’m looking after whatever it is that’s in that case, it’s my responsibility, and if it’s some sort of germ warfare weapon then I have a right to know.’

‘It’s not germ warfare,’ she said, pouting like a little girl who wasn’t getting her own way.

‘So you say. What if I drop it, what if the car gets involved in an accident? Suppose whatever it is in the flask escapes? We could all die.’

Su-ming shook her head. ‘It’s safe.’

‘How do you know?’

She waved the typed sheets in front of his face. ‘Because it says so, here, that’s how I know. Until it’s activated, it’s virtually inert.’

‘Activated? What the hell do you mean, activated? What is it, Su-ming?’

She tapped the papers against the palm of her hand as she looked at him. ‘Red mercury,’ she said. ‘It’s only a sample for Mr Vander Mayer to test.’

‘Red mercury?’ Cramer repeated. ‘What is it, some sort of explosive?’

‘I shouldn’t even have told you that much,’ she said.

Cramer walked over to her. She looked so small when he stood next to her. She barely came up to his shoulder and she had to tilt her head back to keep looking into his eyes. ‘What’s it used for?’ he pressed.

She frowned. ‘Fuses, mainly.’

‘For bombs?’

She nodded. ‘It’s got civil applications, too, though. Mining companies can use it to help extract gold from ore.’

Cramer kept looking at her. He was sure she wasn’t telling him everything.

Marie looked at her wristwatch. ‘Do you think I should put more money in the meter?’ she asked.

Lynch stretched his arms out in front of him and opened and closed his hands. He sighed. ‘Aye, I suppose so.’ He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he stared across the crowded street at the block containing Vander Mayer’s office. ‘Come out, come out, wherever you are,’ he whispered.

Marie got out, fed the meter, and climbed back into the Rover. ‘Of course, Cramer might not be in there,’ she said.

‘He’s in there,’ said Lynch. ‘I know he’s in there.’

‘What about something to eat? A sandwich or something?’

Lynch shook his head. He rubbed the back of his neck. His whole body seemed to be aching. It felt as if he’d been sitting in the car for months. ‘Maybe a coffee,’ he said.

‘Tired?’

‘Knackered.’

‘It’s just after five, the offices should start emptying soon. I’ll get you a coffee before the rush starts.’

She was reaching for the door handle when Lynch sat bolt upright. ‘Wait,’ he said.

Marie’s hand jerked away from the handle as if she’d received an electric shock. ‘What?’

‘Look.’ Lynch nodded at the office block. A Mercedes had pulled up and the driver, a large man in a dark blue suit and a peaked cap, was getting out.

‘That’s the same car they had in Wales,’ said Marie.

‘Same type. Different registration number. But that’s the driver all right.’ He started the engine. ‘Keep the map out. Rush hour isn’t the best time to be tailing someone in London.’

Lynch pulled away from the kerb and indicated that he wanted to turn right. He had to make sure he didn’t get stuck in the side road when the Mercedes drove off. A middle-aged woman in a battered MGB flashed her headlights and Lynch nudged the Rover into the traffic. The only place he could find to park was on a double yellow line but he didn’t think he’d have to wait long so he pulled in and watched the Mercedes in his driving mirror. Marie twisted around in her seat to watch the building itself.

‘Oh shit,’ said Lynch under his breath. A black traffic warden was walking towards them, notebook in hand. He was about fifty feet away.

‘The driver’s gone inside,’ said Marie.

Lynch drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. The traffic warden was heading purposefully towards the Rover. Marie opened the door. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I’ll talk to him,’ she said. She got out of the car and walked towards the traffic warden, smiling and waving the street directory. She said something to the man and showed him the map. Smart girl, thought Lynch, but he doubted whether the ruse would buy them more than a minute or two. The traffic warden took the map from Marie and began talking to her and pointing down the road.

Lynch turned to look through the back window of the Rover. The door to the block opened but it was a young woman who came out. ‘Come on, come on,’ Lynch muttered. He felt exposed and vulnerable, sitting on the double yellow lines with a traffic warden only yards away. There were no other parking spaces nearby and if they had to drive off they’d have to double back, and that could take ages in the heavy traffic. The door to the office block opened again and the driver came out. He stood at the entrance, looking left and right, and then held it open. Another big man came out wearing a dark grey suit, and Lynch recognised him immediately: it was the man he’d seen walking with Cramer in the grounds of the school in Wales.

Marie was still talking to the traffic warden. Lynch didn’t want to risk sounding his horn, even though the street was bustling with vehicles and pedestrians. He flashed his headlights a couple of times and she waved at him before spotting the two men. Marie took the map from the traffic warden, said something to him and then walked quickly back to the Rover. Lynch kept his eyes glued to the driving mirror. A third man came out. Lynch’s eyes narrowed. It was Cramer. He was carrying an aluminium briefcase.

Marie got into the Rover and closed the door. The traffic warden was still walking towards them. Marie wound down her window and gave him a wide smile. ‘Thanks for your help,’ she called, waving the map at him. He walked by, but looked over his shoulder. ‘You’re going to have to go,’ Marie whispered. ‘He’s watching us.’

‘Pretend to give me directions,’ Lynch said. Marie leaned over and made a show of holding the map in front of him as he kept an eye on the rear-view mirror. The three men were getting into the Mercedes. The two large men moved efficiently, and as he watched Lynch realised how cleverly they were shielding Cramer. The young Oriental girl came out of the office block and opened the rear door of the Mercedes herself. Marie continued to point at the map and nod her head. Lynch nodded as if agreeing with her. In the mirror he saw the traffic warden walking away. ‘Okay, he’s going,’ said Lynch.