Stephen Leather - Dead Men

‘And what’s the good news?’

‘She wasn’t as mad as I thought she’d be. Quite laid back, actually. She said we had to lay off her and that she’d sack you if you ever did anything like that again, but other than that she was pretty relaxed.’

‘How much did you tell her?’ asked Shepherd.

‘I couldn’t lie to her, Spider.’

‘It’s okay,’ said Shepherd. ‘Just tell me what you told her.’

‘That you had her best interests at heart, that you knew there was a contract out on her.’

‘Terrific,’ muttered Shepherd.

‘Spider, you know her background. If she gets pissed off at me, she could do me a lot of damage.’

‘It’s not your fault. I should have been up front with her.’

‘That was the strange thing,’ said O’Brien. ‘She wasn’t in the least bit fazed when I said there was a hitman after her. It’s like she already knew.’

‘Maybe she did,’ said Shepherd.

‘What do you want to do?’ asked O’Brien.

The salesman was splashing water over his face.

‘There’s nothing we can do,’ said Shepherd. ‘If Charlie says back off, we don’t have a choice. Like you said, she’s a heavy hitter.’

‘Did you know she was a runner? She said she did the Marathon des Sables when she left university.’

‘No, I didn’t,’ said Shepherd. ‘But then the woman is constantly surprising me.’

‘Wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of her,’ said O’Brien.

‘I think I’ve left it a bit late to worry about that,’ said Shepherd.

‘I’ll call the guys in Belfast and stand them down.’

Shepherd thanked him and cut the connection. He used the urinal and washed his hands. As he left, the salesman was brushing his teeth with slow, even strokes.

Elaine was standing outside the service station, smoking. She offered him a cigarette. He took one and lit it. ‘Do you want me to share the driving?’ she asked.

‘Sure,’ said Shepherd.

She looked at him quizzically. ‘You’re a funny one, Jamie.’

‘Now what?’

‘Most men wouldn’t give up the steering-wheel no matter how tired they were. Same way they’ll never ask for directions if they get lost.’

‘Ah, that’s because I’m in touch with my feminine side.’

‘Yeah, that’s glaringly obvious.’

‘I am,’ said Shepherd, seriously. ‘I cry at movies.’

She looked at him in disbelief. ‘What was the last movie you cried at?’

Shepherd pretended to consider the question. ‘ Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs ,’ he said eventually.

‘Rubbish,’ she said.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘That first night when she stayed with the dwarfs and they all got into bed feeling sleepy. Sleepy had to get out again. I felt so sorry for him.’

Elaine laughed as she was taking a drag on her cigarette and began to cough. She bent over and Shepherd patted her on the back. ‘Do you need the Hindenburg manoeuvre?’ he asked.

She stopped coughing and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘You mean the Heimlich manoeuvre. That’s for choking.’

‘No, it’s the Hindenburg,’ said Shepherd. ‘I fill you full of hydrogen and set fire to you. Guaranteed to stop coughing fits.’

She started to laugh again. Shepherd put an arm round her and kissed her cheek. He couldn’t believe she was a serial killer. The Elaine Carter he knew simply wasn’t capable of murder.

As they drove off the M1 and into central London, Shepherd asked Elaine if she wanted him to drop her at her sister’s. ‘What hotel are you staying at?’ she asked.

‘The Ibis in Earls Court. Opposite the exhibition centre.’

Elaine’s surprise was written on her face. ‘Why did you book in there?’

‘Thought it would be easy for you, and they’ve got car parking.’

‘You didn’t have an ulterior motive, did you?’

Shepherd chuckled. ‘Such as?’

‘Such as hoping to persuade me to stay over. I did say I was going to stay with my sister.’

‘Elaine, you have so little faith in me.’

‘Double bed?’

‘King size,’ said Shepherd. ‘I move around a lot when I sleep.’

She slid her hand along his thigh. ‘I know,’ she said, and grinned. ‘Okay, let’s go to the hotel first.’

It had started to rain by the time they reached Earls Court. They parked the Audi and checked in, then went up to the room. She kissed him as soon as he’d closed the door, a long, slow kiss as she pressed herself against him. Eventually she broke away. ‘I need a shower,’ she said. ‘Don’t start without me.’

Her bag was by the door and her briefcase was on the bed but she’d left the bathroom door open and the walls were mirrored so he couldn’t risk going through her things. ‘Hey, I’m out of cigarettes,’ he called. ‘I’ll just pop down and get some.’

‘Don’t be long,’ she said. ‘I’m hungry.’

As soon as he got down to Reception, Shepherd called Button on his mobile. ‘I’ve checked in,’ he said. ‘We’ll have dinner together and she’s going to the conference tomorrow. I’ll probably go with her.’

‘My spies tell me you’re sharing a room,’ said Button.

‘Are you checking up on me, Charlie?’ said Shepherd, coldly.

‘The surveillance team outside her sister’s house said she hasn’t been there, that’s all,’ said Button. ‘Is there anything you need to tell me?’

‘She’s left some of her things in my room. We’re at the Ibis, right opposite the exhibition centre. I thought it was the best way to keep an eye on her.’

‘Well, I look forward to seeing your expense claim,’ said Button.

‘What about Kinsella? How long will he be in London?’

‘Two more nights, then he’s off to the States. Once he’s left the UK, he’s no longer our responsibility.’

‘What do I do then?’ asked Shepherd. ‘Does the investigation continue?’

‘We’re tasked with identifying the killer,’ said Button. ‘We stay on the job until that’s resolved.’

Maplethorpe took the lift to the fifteenth floor. Kinsella’s suite was to the left, half-way down the corridor. The man in the door was in his early forties, stocky in a blue pinstripe suit that was too baggy in the trousers. He was Russ Williamson, a detective sergeant in the PSNI. Maplethorpe had known him for eighteen years, and for more than half that time they’d served in the RUC’s Special Branch.

‘Looks like you’re putting on weight, Russ,’ said Maplethorpe, as he strode down the corridor. ‘Too much hotel food, I suppose.’

‘John, what the hell are you doing in London?’

‘Just checking everything’s okay,’ he said. ‘The top brass are scared shitless that something might happen to Kinsella. He’s heading back to the States, I gather.’

‘I’ll be glad when he’s gone,’ said Williamson. ‘He’s a right pain in the arse.’

‘Who are you with?’ asked Maplethorpe.

‘Owen Crompton. He’s one of the new intake, a Catholic, but he’s a solid guy.’ He indicated the room next door. ‘He’s in there.’

‘How’s he feel about Kinsella?’

‘No love lost there,’ said Williamson. ‘Reckons Kinsella’s just a scrote who got lucky.’

Maplethorpe grinned. ‘His head’s obviously screwed on right. Is the wife with him?’

‘They’re in for the afternoon,’ said Williamson. ‘Out this evening for dinner and a show with friends.’

‘You both go out with them?’ asked Maplethorpe.

‘The two of us and a driver, Paul Cadman.’

Maplethorpe knew Cadman. He was a detective sergeant, a twenty-five-year veteran. ‘You must be pulling in some overtime,’ he said.

‘Paying for my place in Bulgaria,’ said Williamson. ‘Three bedrooms, pool, it’s going to be my retirement place. What about you? I heard you were quitting.’