Philip Kerr - False Nine

‘I believe you saw the match that PSG played against Nice,’ said Charles Rivel, from PSG. ‘At Parc des Princes.’

‘Yes. It was a bit like watching Arsenal grinding out a one — nil victory. I thought Nice deserved a draw more than you guys deserved a win.’

This was also true of the match between FCB and Villarreal but I kept that particular observation to myself.

‘I’m not sure that’s fair,’ said Rivel. ‘If Zlatan hadn’t hit the woodwork in the first fifteen minutes he might just have scored one of his best goals. The way he controlled the ball, turned and then took his shot was superb. For a big man he’s incredibly light on his feet.’

‘Nevertheless, he missed. And by his own standards that’s just not good enough. What does he say in his book? You can be a god one day and completely worthless the next. That’s especially true in this city. He took his foot off their neck. That’s how it looked to me.’

‘You’ve read his book?’ asked Jacint.

‘I try to read all of the books about football, although sometimes I ask myself why. And while I start them all, there’s hardly ever one I finish. Including Zlatan’s book. In my opinion his wasn’t a good book. I think he’s a good player. Just not much of a writer. No worse than the others, perhaps. Like most of these books there were few insights into the game. But it was a shrink’s casebook.’

‘It’s true,’ said Oriel. ‘They ought to have called that book The Ego has Landed .’

‘Perhaps he should have hired Roddy Doyle to write it,’ said Jacint.

‘I think Henning Mankell would have been more appropriate,’ said Rivel. ‘They’re both Swedes, after all.’

‘We could use Kurt Wallander now, perhaps,’ murmured Ahmed. ‘Given the situation.’

‘I don’t think Ibra was very fair about Guardiola,’ said Oriel.

‘We’re not here to talk about Ibra,’ said Rivel, ‘but someone else. Another PSG player.’

‘Wouldn’t it be better to have Mr Manson sign a confidentiality agreement first?’ said Ahmed.

‘I don’t think we need to worry about that with a man like Scott,’ said Jacint. ‘His word is good enough for me.’

‘Can we depend on you to treat this matter with confidence?’ asked Rivel.

‘Of course. You have my word on it. In case you hadn’t noticed, gentlemen, I’ve been rather keen to avoid the press of late.’

‘Is that working?’ said Jacint.

‘How do you mean?’

‘Have you checked your Twitter account?’

‘Not today.’

‘It seems you made a tweet about Rafinha that has some of your female followers in a rage.’

‘I did?’ I shrugged, not really knowing to what Jacint was referring. ‘I’ll check it later.’

‘What we’re here to talk about — well, right now, it’s probably the best kept secret in football,’ said Oriel.

‘Now I really am intrigued,’ I admitted.

‘First of all, we should say that we think you’re a talented young manager,’ said Rivel. ‘In spite of recent events in China. Which could have happened to anyone, really.’

The Qatari nodded. ‘It’s very difficult to know what’s happening when you’re in Shanghai.’ He laughed. ‘At least in Qatar there are only two million people. That makes things a lot simpler. Unless it’s something to do with religion. And Sharia law. And women’s rights. And the 2022 World Cup. Then things can get very complicated.’

I smiled, liking him for that.

‘Your reputation as a young manager and coach is one thing,’ said Jacint. ‘But it seems you have also gained something of a reputation as a problem solver. It’s now a well-known fact that it was you and not the Metropolitan Police who solved the mystery regarding the death of João Zarco.’

‘And the death of Bekim Develi,’ added Oriel.

‘I’m sure that you know I can’t comment about that.’

‘You can’t,’ said Rivel. ‘But the Athens police can. They’ve dropped some very broad hints that you were of great assistance to them in their inquiries.’

‘It’s your skills as a private detective that we need now,’ said Jacint.

‘And for which we are prepared to pay,’ said Ahmed.

‘Whisky, Tango, Foxtrot,’ I heard myself murmur. What the fuck?

‘Handsomely,’ added the Qatari.

‘Really, gentlemen, I have no skills as a detective,’ I insisted. ‘As usual, this is just the press exaggerating what happened. Anyone would think I was Sherlock Holmes in a tracksuit. Hercule Poirot with a stopwatch. The Kurt Wallander of the touchline. I’m not. I’m a coach. A manager. And right now it’s a football club I need, not an interesting case. Give me a squad of players and I’ll be as happy as Larry. But don’t ask me to play the copper.’

‘Nevertheless, you understand football and footballers,’ said Rivel. ‘In a way that perhaps the police do not.’

‘There’s no perhaps about it,’ said Jacint. ‘I can’t speak for how things are in Paris, but it’s quite impossible to be objective about football here in Barcelona. There’s too much emotion involved.’

‘I think the same is probably true in Paris,’ said Rivel. ‘Besides, the French police aren’t exactly known for their closed mouths. Just look at what happened to Francois Hollande. And before him to Dominique Strauss-Kahn. This story would be on the front of L’Equipe in no time.’

‘Gentlemen, you’re wasting your time. I’ve really no interest in crime. I don’t even like the goddamn books. All those stupid boring detectives with their drinking problems and their failed marriages. It’s all so very predictable. My idea of a good case is one made by Louis Vuitton.’

‘Please, Mr Manson,’ said Ahmed. ‘At least hear us out.’

‘Yes, Scott,’ said Jacint. ‘Please. Listen to our story.’

‘All right. I’ll listen. Out of respect for you and this club, I’ll listen. But I’m not promising anything. I’m telling you, it’s football I want to play. I don’t want to play cops and robbers.’

‘Of course,’ said Oriel. ‘We understand. But more than anyone perhaps you understand footballers. The pressures. The mistakes. The pitfalls. You might not quite appreciate it yourself, Scott, but you’re in a unique position in football. In quite a short period of time you’ve made yourself quite indispensable to any European club who needs a special kind of help. You speak several languages...’

‘And, more importantly than that, you speak the players’ language, Scott,’ added Jacint. ‘Players trust you in a way they wouldn’t trust the police. They’re young men, some of them misfits and even delinquents from quite difficult backgrounds. Men like Ibra. He was a punk and a car thief, wasn’t he? If any of our players or perhaps those of PSG are going to confide in anyone it probably won’t be some nosy cop with a tape recorder in his hand. It will be you, Scott. You’ve done time in prison. You’ve been falsely accused of something. You don’t much like the police yourself.’

‘True,’ I said. ‘Although I seem to be getting over that. My girlfriend, Louise, is a detective with the Metropolitan Police.’

‘So much the better.’

“Perhaps it’s her you should be speaking to.” I knew I wished I was.

The waiter came and took our order. And it was only after we’d eaten our the starters and tasted the wine that Jacint returned to the subject that was preoccupying him and the other three men.

‘I expect you’ve heard that Jérôme Dumas has been taken on loan by us from PSG,’ he said.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I was surprised. I think he’s a good player.’

‘He never really clicked with us,’ said Rivel. ‘I don’t really know why. He’s a talented player. But there was something in his head that was not quite right for us. It works like that sometimes. Torres worked at Liverpool but he never worked at Chelsea.’