Stephen Leather - The Double Tap

The Mercedes drove away from the kerb. As it drew level with the Rover, Lynch turned his head away. He let a couple of cars go by and then edged the Rover into the traffic. Marie had the map open on her lap and she kept looking at it as Lynch followed the Mercedes. The traffic was moving slowly and while Lynch wasn’t worried about the Mercedes getting away, he wanted to stay fairly close in case he got held up by traffic lights.

A taxi forced itself in front of Lynch and he cursed. ‘He’s turning left,’ said Marie.

Lynch indicated and followed the Mercedes down the side road. The Mercedes made another two turns in quick succession. For a brief moment Lynch wondered if the driver had spotted them, but then the Mercedes drove straight on for almost half a mile. Lynch allowed two vehicles to overtake but kept reasonably close.

‘Fulham,’ said Marie. ‘They’re heading for Fulham. They could be crossing the river.’

‘If they’re driving back to Wales I’ll be really pissed off,’ said Lynch through clenched teeth.

‘No, they’re going north-east. If they were going to Wales they’d be heading west to the M4.’

They drove by antique shops full of gilded furniture and extravagant light fittings, then past a football stadium. ‘Chelsea,’ said Marie. ‘It’s where Chelsea play.’

The traffic had thinned out and Lynch hung back, giving the Mercedes plenty of space. There was little chance of losing it; the driver was sticking religiously to the speed limit.

‘I think we’ve got a tail,’ said Martin, glancing in his rear-view mirror.

Su-ming began to turn around but Cramer reached over and took her hand. ‘Don’t look around,’ he said. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked Martin.

‘I noticed it about five minutes ago, but this is the best way to Chelsea Harbour so it might be coincidence. Two people, one’s a woman, I think.’

‘Our man usually works alone,’ said Allan.

‘Yeah, but not always,’ said Cramer. ‘Remember the Kypriano killing? Someone else was in the boat that picked him up. And there’ve been other cases where he’s had someone driving a getaway car.’

Allan turned his head and surreptitiously moved the wing mirror so that he could see directly behind the Mercedes. ‘The metallic grey Rover?’

‘That’s the one,’ said Martin. ‘It’s not one of ours, is it?’

‘No, it’s bloody well not. And if it was, I’d have their balls on toast. Can you make out the registration number?’

‘Too far away,’ Martin replied. ‘Shall I lose them?’

Allan looked at him scornfully. ‘If we lose them, they’ll know we’re onto them. That’s not what we’re trying to achieve here, right?’

‘I was joking, Allan,’ said Martin.

‘Slow down, see if we can get the number.’

‘I guess I should do that without braking, right?’ Martin flashed a grin at Allan and took his foot off the accelerator.

Allan watched the Rover in the mirror. ‘He’s slowing too.’

The driver of the black taxi behind them beeped his horn impatiently. Martin accelerated again.

‘Drive to the apartment,’ said Allan. ‘They can’t do anything while we’re in the car. Let’s see what happens when we get to Chelsea Harbour.’

Cramer smiled at Su-ming. ‘It’ll be okay,’ he said. She nodded, unconvinced. Cramer realised that he was still holding her hand. He released his grip and folded his arms. ‘It might not be him,’ he said.

‘They’re still there,’ said Martin.

Cramer squeezed his arms. He could feel the gun in its holster pressing against his ribs but wasn’t reassured by its presence.

Martin turned onto the road that led to Chelsea Harbour, his eyes flicking between the rear-view mirror and the way ahead. ‘He’s indicating,’ he said. ‘Yeah, here he comes. Still too far away to get the registration.’

They drove by the Conrad Hotel towards the towering apartment block with its blue-framed balconies and pyramid roof. Martin turned left to follow the road around to the car park. ‘False alarm,’ said Allan. ‘They’re pulling up in front of the hotel.’

Cramer tried to relax. He uncrossed his arms, rested his head on the back of the seat and sighed. His heart was racing and his palms were sweating.

‘Okay?’ asked Allan as they drove down into the underground car park and stopped in front of the entrance to the apartment block.

Cramer nodded but didn’t reply. Martin and Allan got out of the Mercedes and walked around to Cramer’s door. The area outside the entrance was clear but the two men still formed a protective barrier as they escorted Cramer inside. The doorman nodded at them.

They took the elevator up to the ground level and walked across the marble-floored foyer. The doorman on duty wasn’t the man who’d been there when they’d left that morning. He was younger, with a thin face and pale blue eyes. Cramer transferred the metal case to his left hand. The doorman waved a greeting to Allan, then reached under the counter. Cramer tensed and flexed the fingers of his right hand. ‘Easy,’ said Allan out of the corner of his mouth, ‘he’s one of ours.’

The doorman brought an envelope out from under the counter and held it out for Su-ming as Allan and Martin walked either side of Cramer to the elevator.

Marie opened the door of the Rover and climbed in, her face flushed with excitement. ‘They went into an apartment block, the tall one,’ she said. ‘The two big guys kept really close to him as they went in.’

‘They’re bodyguards all right,’ said Lynch.

‘Why would Cramer need a bodyguard?’ asked Marie. ‘Do you think they know we’re after him?’

‘I can’t see how,’ said Lynch. ‘Besides, it doesn’t make sense. If they were trying to protect him, they’d make him disappear. The Brits could give him a new identity, a new passport and a ticket to anywhere in the world. They wouldn’t put him on full view like this. Maybe Vander Mayer’s in the apartment. What did they do with the car?’

‘The chauffeur came out after a few minutes and parked it.’

‘So it looks like they’re staying for a while, doesn’t it? And who’s that girl hanging around with them?’

Marie shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But the bodyguards definitely aren’t for her. She was following them.’

Lynch made a clicking sound with his tongue. It was a nervous habit, and he didn’t realise he was doing it until Marie started to copy him. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’ve always done that when I think, ever since I was a kid. Used to annoy the hell out of my teachers during exams.’

‘I bet. What are you thinking about?’

‘I’m working out what to do.’

‘What are our options?’

Lynch put his head on one side as he looked at her. ‘We can keep following him, we can try to find out what Cramer’s up to. Or we can pull back, see if the bodyguards are a permanent feature. Or we can go for the hit now.’

Marie put her hand on Lynch’s shoulder. ‘You know what my choice would be?’

Lynch stared into her eyes. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes, I know what you want.’ He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. ‘I’m knackered,’ he said. ‘Whatever we do, we should rest for a while.’

Marie nodded at the hotel. ‘Well, we’re in the right place for that,’ she said.

As soon as they entered the flat, Su-ming disappeared down the corridor towards the bedrooms with the metal briefcase. Cramer heard a door shut and he figured she was probably putting the case into Vander Mayer’s safe.

Martin went off into the kitchen and Cramer and Allan followed him. ‘I’m starving,’ said Martin. He pulled open the door to the refrigerator and peered inside. ‘Jesus H. Christ, there’s enough food in here to feed a regiment,’ he said. He took off his jacket and hung it on the back of a chair, unclipped his underarm holster, then stripped off his shirt to reveal the dark blue bullet-proof vest he was wearing. He ripped away the Velcro straps, slid the vest off and dropped it onto the table. The table shuddered.