Andrew Grant - Even

“I can’t,” she said. “I’m in an impossible situation.”

“Is this London nonsense? Is it classified?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“If I don’t say, you won’t help. If I do say, you’ll hate me and you won’t help. What can I do?”

“I’m not going to hate you, Tanya,” I said, taking her hand. “Whatever it is, just tell me.”

Tanya pulled her hand away, closed her eyes for a moment, and started to sway slightly, like someone in a trance.

“OK,” she said, finally. “Here goes. After Morocco, did you ever hear what happened? Officially?”

“No. There was never a proper report.”

“There was. Only I made sure you never saw it.”

“You did? Why?”

“The ambush that killed Dog? I knew about it. Well, I didn’t exactly know. I’d received a tip.”

“When? Who from?”

“The day before. A local informant. Someone new. I didn’t know if he was reliable, so I wanted to verify his story before passing it on.”

“It checked out?”

“It rang true enough. But I was too late. It took too long. When the bomb went off under your truck I was actually on the phone, trying to reach you.”

“So you made sure the threat was credible, and then you sent up the flares?”

“Yes, but-”

“And the report-did it censure you?”

“No.”

“Were you disciplined?”

“No.”

“Demoted?”

“No. But that’s not the point. The report judged what I did. Not what I could have done. And looking back, I’m sure I could have been quicker. If I’d got to you five minutes sooner…”

“That’s ridiculous, Tanya. You did the right thing. Dog would have said the same. Let it go.”

She didn’t respond.

“And even if you were wrong, what’s done is done,” I said. “Life goes on.”

“Not for Dog,” she said.

“So what do you think? By warning James Mansell you can make amends, somehow?”

She didn’t answer.

“What do you think will happen?” I said. “Dog will spring back to life?”

She stayed silent.

“You can’t change the past, Tanya,” I said. “However hard you try. I’m sorry. You’ll just have to find another way to deal with it.”

A car horn sounded, to our left. I looked around and saw that Weston had rolled down his window.

“Hey,” he said. “Hurry it up. We need to get moving. Varley called. He wants us back at the office.”

Tanya turned to go and as she brushed past me I glimpsed the trace of a tear nestling in the corner of her right eye. It reminded me of the hospital, in Rabat, when I’d woken up and found her in my room. Maybe she’d come to Morocco out of guilt that day, but she’d still been there for me. And the way she blamed herself for what happened may not have been logical, but in a way I could understand it. Ultimately, you feel what you feel. You have to recognize it, deal with it, and move on. Sometimes, people need help with that. Especially in our business. The only question is, are they worth enough of your time?

I slid onto the backseat just as Tanya was about to slam the door.

“Changed my mind,” I said, cupping her hand with mine. “Too much paperwork in London. Rosser’s complaints will still be ringing in their ears. Better to let things settle. Around a week should do it.”

Mitchell Varley was back on his throne, lording it over the boardroom table. Tanya and I were on the left-hand side, in the places we’d used for the debriefing. Weston and Lavine were sitting opposite us. But that was all. There was no one else to soak up Varley’s questions. And worse than that, no one to fetch the coffee.

“OK then, gentlemen,” Varley said. “Things are moving on. Yesterday, we discounted Lesley from our railroad investigation. Which is a shame, since she’s now in custody. Today, we’ve uncovered new facts about the case. Disturbing new facts. It seems we’re not talking about a lone serial killer anymore. Or even a gun for hire. The victims weren’t random, as we’d assumed. They were part of a group. There’s some kind of connection here we don’t fully understand.”

No one responded.

“So,” he said. “How do we proceed from here? I want options. Bartman-you first. And welcome back, by the way.”

“Thank you, sir,” Lavine said. “I think we should go back to the crime scene evidence first. And start again. Whatever’s going on here, it sounds structured. Organized. We’re talking about professional hits, now, obviously. Not a whacko. Not an amateur. We need to go much deeper than we thought.”

“Just with the evidence?” Varley said. “Or should we revisit the scenes, as well?”

“Just the evidence to start with,” Lavine said. “We won’t find anything new at the scenes. It’s been too long. But I guess it might be worth a quick look, to see if the choice of locations can tell us anything. Maybe throw some light on the killer’s training, background, or whatever.”

“OK,” Varley said. “Get someone on it. What about witnesses?”

“None came forward,” Lavine said. “But it sounds like the stakes are higher now. Maybe we should think about a reward?”

“Not yet,” Varley said. “That would bring out too many cranks. We’ll save it for a last resort. Just get the local PDs to go with a straight recanvass for now. So, Kyle? Over to you.”

“I was thinking about these planted IDs,” Weston said. “Especially the Ukrainian ones. Where did they come from? Are they real, or fake? Did they make them, or steal them? And when?”

“Good angle,” Varley said. “Could definitely lead somewhere.”

“And don’t forget the basics-follow the dollar,” Weston said. “These guys had just been paid off. Three months’ money. Their line of work that could be, what, fifty grand each? Three hundred thousand dollars? That’s a decent motive right there. And no one looked at it before, ’cause we thought they were bums.”

“You’re right,” Varley said. “Get the full financials on all of them. Including the company they worked for.”

“Good call,” Weston said. “Must be people there who knew about the payoff.”

“We’re moving on that already,” Lavine said.

“I’d focus on the employer, if it was up to me,” Tanya said. “Not so much on the money. I’m not sure the payoff’s all that relevant.”

“Three hundred grand isn’t relevant?” Weston said.

“You have to understand how it works, over there,” Tanya said. “I’ve been thinking. Something about how the people were moved around between jobs sounds fishy to me.”

“What’s your problem with it?” Varley said.

“When my brother first went back, he was on convoy protection,” Tanya said. “The others were, too. My brother’s still doing it.”

“What kind of convoy?” Lavine said.

“Captured ammunition,” Tanya said. “On its way for destruction.”

“Ouch,” Lavine said. “Rather them than me.”

“Exactly,” Tanya said. “They get all sorts of bonuses, because of the risks. And because it’s so critical to keep the ammo out of the insurgents’ hands.”

“And yet Redford and Mansell were pulled off these ammo convoys to guard some hospital?” Varley said.

“Right,” Tanya said. “So what does that tell us about the hospital work?”

“It was more important than protecting the convoys,” Varley said.

“Exactly,” Tanya said. “And the whole team was pulled out of the hospital under some bogus cover story. Then they were fired. And a few days later, they started being killed.”

“I see where you’re going,” Varley said. “It doesn’t sound like a coincidence.”

“No, it can’t be,” Tanya said. “That’s why I think the company holds the key. Someone there knows something.”