Archer, Jeffrey - Hidden in Plain Sight

Although he was early, William headed straight for gallery three, where he found a small group of visitors admiring Moore’s Reclining Figure . While he waited for Heath to appear, he tried to relax by walking around the room, familiarizing himself with some old friends, while making new ones. He occasionally glanced back at the Moore, but once again Heath was late, so he circled the room a second time, even more slowly.

Heath strolled into gallery three at twenty past eleven, possibly imagining that being late gave him the upper hand. William had drifted across to Eric Gill’s Crucifix , where Heath joined him a few moments later.

‘Let’s talk on the move,’ said William, ‘then we won’t be overheard.’

Heath nodded as William walked on to stand in front of Millais’ Ophelia floating in a river surrounded by flowers. He tried to concentrate on the man and not the woman. ‘Why did you want to see me so urgently?’

‘Do you remember Tulip?’

‘Your dealer.’

‘Not any longer.’

‘How come?’ William asked. Someone had joined them to drool over Ophelia , so they quickly moved across to Stubbs’s Horse Attacked by a Lion .

‘Tulip ended up in hospital after swallowing a clingfilm wrap of cocaine just before he was arrested.’

‘An occupational hazard,’ said William, without emotion.

‘Which I intend to take advantage of, because he’s asked me to service his customers while he’s away.’

William thought about the significance of these words while pretending to concentrate on a Norfolk river scene by Constable.

‘Constable and Turner were born only a year apart,’ he said, as someone else joined them. ‘But they couldn’t have been more different: one old-fashioned and traditional, the other genuinely original and rebellious. Which is probably why they were never friends.’

‘Sounds a bit like us,’ said Heath, before walking away and pretending to look at another picture. ‘But let’s get down to business. I need a favour,’ he said once William had rejoined him.

‘What do you have in mind?’ William asked, as one of them took a closer look at Morland’s The Fortune Teller .

‘While Tulip’s away, it’s my big chance to make some real money so I can finally escape, but I’ll need your boys to give me a free run for a few weeks, no more.’

‘Why would we agree to do that?’

‘Because as soon as Tulip’s back, I’ll give you the names of every one of his contacts.’

‘He’ll kill you.’

‘Not if I’m on the other side of the world before he finds out, he won’t.’

‘It’s not enough,’ said William, as two members of the public paused to admire the Morland.

‘What more do you want?’ asked Heath, as they walked on to the next painting.

‘The location of Rashidi’s slaughter.’

‘Even Maria doesn’t know that. But I’m working on it.’

‘Then let’s start you off with something a little easier as proof of your goodwill.’

‘What do you have in mind?’

‘We know that one of Tulip’s customers is a man called Miles Faulkner.’

‘I’ve seen his name on Tulip’s list, but he’s not a regular. Always expects the purest gear, and pays top whack. But he hasn’t been in touch recently.’

‘He will be,’ said William without explanation. ‘And when he is, I need to know exactly which drugs he orders and where he wants them delivered.’

‘And if I tell you that, you’ll let me get on with my job until Tulip gets back?’

‘Only my guv’nor can sanction that, but if he agrees, and you fail to deliver, I’ll personally visit Tulip in hospital and tell him what you’ve been up to in his absence.’

‘You wouldn’t do that to an old friend.’

‘Like Turner, you’re not an old friend,’ said William, as they arrived back at Gill’s Crucifix .

‘I must admit,’ said Heath, ‘Moore’s good.’

8

‘IT’S A DIFFERENT number plate, but the same taxi,’ said Jackie, lowering her binoculars.

‘How can you be sure?’ asked William, as they watched a black cab drive slowly into The Boltons.

‘Same box of Kleenex on the back shelf.’

‘Well spotted,’ said William. They continued to watch as Rashidi stepped out of the cab and opened the front gate of No. 24.

‘Same hat, gloves, coat and scarf,’ said Paul. ‘Clearly a man of habit.’

‘Which might well turn out to be his downfall,’ said William.

The photographer had begun snapping away as soon as Rashidi stepped out of the taxi, although he’d warned William that because he was so well covered up, he didn’t expect the results to be any different from last week.

The door opened before Rashidi had a chance to knock. The same hug, allowing the photographer to zoom in on the left-hand glove, before mother and son disappeared into the house.

William turned on his radio, which connected him straight to the Yard. ‘All units stand by, stand by, subject one has arrived at the known address,’ he announced. ‘The subject has now entered the house. If last week’s anything to go by, he won’t be coming back out for at least a couple of hours.’

‘What’s your back-up looking like?’ asked Lamont.

‘I’ve got three taxis covering all the exits out of the square, ready to move at a moment’s notice.’

‘And on the ground?’

‘Two plain clothes officers in the back of each cab, detailed to follow the target the moment he gets out of his taxi.’

‘Cars?’

‘Four unmarked cars stationed in the area between The Boltons and Earls Court, ready to move at a moment’s notice.’

‘Let me know the minute he reappears.’

‘Will do, sir.’

Lamont flicked off his receiver. ‘Don’t you wish it was the two of us out there giving the orders,’ he said, ‘and not just watching from the sidelines?’

‘Of course,’ admitted the Hawk, ‘but don’t tell my wife.’

‘Milk and sugar?’

‘Just milk, thank you, Mrs Hawksby.’

‘Please call me Josephine,’ she said, handing Beth a cup of tea. ‘I’ve already given a great deal of thought to our recent telephone conversation.’

‘But I didn’t explain why I needed to see you.’

‘That wasn’t too difficult to work out. I assumed you wanted to know what it’s been like being married to a policeman for the past thirty years.’

‘Was it that obvious?’ said Beth.

‘Hell on earth, is the simple answer. The late nights, the last-minute cancellations, questions you can never ask and, worst of all, the fear that one day he might not come home. But it’s helped that I’ve never stopped loving Jack.’

‘But there are so many divorces in the force,’ said Beth. ‘Superintendent Lamont for example, and Jackie for another, and that’s just in our department.’

‘True. But you will learn to accept the fact that the police are expected to keep the same hours as criminals, although the criminals get longer holidays in more exotic places.’ Beth laughed. ‘It was never going to be a nine-to-five job, and from what Jack tells me, William doesn’t have the problem a lot of coppers suffer from.’ Beth put down her cup. ‘Too much testosterone and too many WPCs.’

‘Can you ever be sure?’ asked Beth.

‘No you can’t, but Jack tells me you’ve found an exceptional young man, who’s clearly devoted to you.’

‘And I’m devoted to him, but he’ll need an exceptional woman as his partner, and I’m only an assistant curator at the Fitzmolean, who does work from nine to five.’

‘Thank goodness one of you is normal,’ said Josephine, as she selected a cucumber sandwich.