‘I’m near Iles’s place last night, just waiting for a first tickle, that’s all,’ Vit said. ‘I don’t know if she’s going out, but it’s the only place to start. I’m in a hired Golf –’
‘We’ll see to that,’ Loxton said.
‘I’ll be giving you my expenses claim, yes. Routine. Well then, I’m in Rougement Place, I’ve got some shadow and I’m backed on, quite a decent spot, so it’s all about patience. Then into the street comes Harpur in one of those scrapyard jobs he drives, a Viva, which is supposed to be such a disguise, because it’s not a white Jag with its two-tone sounding and Police written all over. You know the way he looks in these vehicles, like an elephant in a horse-box. Spot him five miles off.’
‘Harpur was there to collect Iles, I should think,’ Loxton said. ‘They came here.’
‘Yes, well I thought he must be going to Iles’s place, what else?’ Vit said. ‘He drives past, though.’
‘Going where?’ Macey asked.
‘Going nowhere. What’s happened is he’s seen me, hasn’t he, and there’s a sudden change of plan? He was going to call on Iles but wants another look at the Golf.’
Loxton said: ‘Saw you? How? You’re backed on and in tidy cover, you told us.’
‘This is Harpur, not Little Miss Muffet,’ Vit replied. ‘He’s been around, you know. He’s heard about rear window surveillance.’
Loxton had a think: ‘He was expecting to see you there?’
‘I considered that, too. Why I said unforeseen difficulties.’
‘Expecting how, for Christ’s sake?’ Macey asked.
‘Always gossip about,’ Vit told him.
‘Already?’ Macey protested.
‘Some people have very good ears,’ Vit said. ‘And sensitive stuff travels fastest. That’s obvious.’
‘It’s worrying,’ Loxton muttered.
‘I reckoned I could see what Harpur was up to. He’ll go around the block and come back for another good look into the Golf. Perhaps he wasn’t totally sure. Well, I don’t want him to be, do I, so as soon as he’s round the corner, I move off and get out of Rougement. I park in another street and come back on foot. I find he’s done more or less the same and he’s ahead of me, walking up Rougement towards Iles’s house, known as Idylls, by the way. That’s either Tennyson or Malory.’
‘What?’ Macey asked. ‘Who are these? How do they come into it?’
‘Oh, Tennyson, of course,’ Norman said.
‘Yes?’ Vit replied. ‘Iles pretty literary or what? Harpur is staring over towards where the Golf had been, and I can see he’s shaken, but he keeps going up to Iles’s gates. He glances into the drive and I feel right away what’s happened: Mrs Iles’s car has gone while we’ve both been out of Rougement Place. I also know what’s going to happen now, and get under the hydrangeas in somebody’s front garden. Harpur runs back down the street, on the way to his Viva, and in a few minutes he’s driving up Rougement again, looking for her or me. He comes back after a while to pick up Iles and go to your place, I suppose.’
‘So you both missed her?’ Loxton asked. ‘She could have seen Aston last night and we still don’t know where he is.’ Again the idea hit him that the job was jinxed. If Tommy Vit could not handle his side of it there must be something wrong.
‘Benny, when I took the assignment I knew there was a chance I’d be spotted behind Mrs Iles. But this is different. You must see that. First, it’s possible that Harpur, and maybe others, have been alerted that I’m working, so they come looking. I don’t know any tail who could cope with that. Every time you move there’s an audience.’
‘Did you have an audience when you came here today?’ Bobby asked.
‘No. I’m all right when I’m by myself. I can lose anything behind me. It’s when I’ve got to track someone that I’m exposed, aren’t I? Even if they can’t see me, they can see her and they know I’m not far off.’
‘Do you think she was with him last night?’ Loxton asked.
‘Could be. She was late back. And she’s humming when she gets out of the car.’
‘You just waited there?’ Loxton asked.
‘What else? I don’t know where to look for her. I’m good, but not magic. But, Benny, listen to this: I’m out hanging about in Rougement, no car now, and Iles comes down the drive and stands at their gate, looking up and down the street. This is around midnight. Harpur’s brought him home and left.’
‘Looking for his wife?’ Bobby said. ‘People can get restless, even someone like Iles. Maybe wanting to see her car as soon as it shows up.’
‘Maybe looking for his wife. Maybe just looking, I don’t know,’ Vit said. ‘And I don’t know if he spotted me. This is not a street where you see many people on foot, and especially not at night. I got into cover fast, but he came down that drive very quietly. With someone like that, you don’t know what he sees. He stood there a couple of minutes, and she didn’t show up. Then he went back up to the house. She didn’t get home for another hour.’ Very thoroughly he wiped some cream from his rosy face with a handkerchief. ‘Well, my feeling is, he saw me, Benny. I’ve got to cater for that from now on. Maybe Harpur had tipped him. I heard those two don’t give all that much to each other, but this time it could be different. I’m not too happy. Who would be? You know what Iles can be like.’
Loxton finished his tea. ‘What you saying, Tommy? You saying you want a bonus?’
‘This turns out to be a lot more tricky than we allowed for, Benny. If I’m going back, this has to be very special rates indeed.’ He turned and smiled at Macey. ‘I know Phil’s going to say they’re special already, but this is something else.’
‘I would like you to go back, Tommy,’ Loxton told him quietly. ‘Yes, indeed. This lady is going to lead us somewhere crucial, I know it. We could have been there last night, but all right, bad luck. It happens. I can see your point, about extra trouble, possible trouble. Look, I can go another five hundred. That wouldn’t be unreasonable, you get us to this situation we’re looking for.’
‘That’s on top of the expenses?’ Vit asked, his eyes shining, and seeming to have nothing in them but helplessness and confusion, but really having quite a lot more than that in them.
‘Of course. Fees, expenses, two different categories. Ask the Revenue.’
Vit said: ‘I knew you’d see things reasonably, Benny. I very much want to help, but I have to think in business terms. And personal safety terms.’ He touched his waves, checking that the whole picture was fine, not just the money.
‘I don’t believe you’ve got too much to worry about re personal safety,’ Loxton said. ‘All right, let’s agree Iles saw you. I can believe he did. What does it mean? He knows what you’re there for, yes?’
Vit thought hard about that, but the effect on the bugger’s face was to make it look even blanker. ‘He wants her to lead me to him? You think so, really, Benny?’
‘Aston’s a man having his wife on a regular basis, right? Not just a man having someone’s wife. This is some small-time, tainted nobody getting amongst an Assistant Chief Constable’s lady. Everything says Iles knows about it. Everything also says he wants to keep her. Is he going to stand in the way if an expert like you is going to locate this lad and involve him in some very grave damage?’
Macey grinned at this argument and nodded. ‘Right, Benny. He wouldn’t do any rough stuff himself, but why stop others?’
‘Spot on,’ Loxton said.
‘But how does he know it’s just Aston? How can he be sure his wife’s not a target, too?’ Vit asked. ‘I mean, would you be comfortable if somebody was tailing Alma? Forgive the example, Benny, but you see what I mean?’
‘Absolutely. Fair point. But, Tommy, he’s not comfortable, anyway, is he? He got a wife who’s doing him wrong, and he doesn’t know how to stop it. So, he’ll take a risk or two. We’re all in that business, Tommy. If you want something and it’s tricky you got to be ready to gamble. Maybe Iles is ready to gamble with his wife.
And it is only maybe. He sees it’s you and he knows you’re a tail, not some heavy. You been hired to follow, not to do injury. He’s heard of Tommy Vit, hasn’t he? All right, you had a lapse or two ages ago, a spasm, but Iles would realize that’s not the way you usually operate. You’re an artist, generally, the delicate touch. He could work it out that Aston’s the one we want. He’d know that Aston is the boy who does smelly, little deals, runs little, lousy messages and Iles could see someone like that might have give offence, or might be a danger to a major project, and would have to be dealt with. Suddenly, he realizes he’s in big luck. He wants him out of the way, don’t matter what the reason, or who does it, like Phil says, as long as it don’t have to be him, although they do say that once upon a time Iles – That’s a different yarn, though, very different, and speculation.’
Loxton stood up to show the meeting was over. ‘You see my point, Tommy, when I say I don’t think you got to worry about the ACC? You and him are on the same side, that’s the truth of it. You’re doing him a favour. We’re all partners. So, you just stick with her, very close, and let us know absolute soonest when he’s charted.’
‘Great, Benny,’ Vit said.
‘Phil, get him the extra half-grand, will you, and look after his exes when they come in?’
‘It’s a treat to do business with you, Benny,’ Vit told him. ‘A therapy after some of the others.’
‘My father had a saying, “The labourer is worthy of his hire”,’ Loxton told them.
‘Can’t fault it,’ Macey remarked.
Chapter Fifteen
And then, well on into the meeting, Iles suddenly let Lane have it, a crippler, way below the belt, as brutally deft as anything Harpur had ever seen the ACC pull anywhere, which was saying a mouthful. ‘This is interesting, sir, what you’re telling us about Leo Tacette’s silver wedding party, but I know as fact that he’s not going through with the celebration at the original venue. Elsewhere, yes. Undisclosed this time. He got wind of something.’
The Chief looked appalled. ‘But when did he switch?’ Lane demanded. ‘I heard it was settled. My information is very recent.’
‘I hope you didn’t pay more than washers for it then, sir,’ Iles said. ‘There’s been a total re-think, forced on Tacette.’
‘Colin, have you heard of this?’ Lane asked.
‘Neither about the original plans nor the change, sir,’ Harpur replied. It hurt to say it: these two had moved ahead.
It was another of those off-the-cuff, three-sided gatherings in Harpur’s room. Lane had drifted in, obviously excited about something, and asked him to ring Iles and invite the ACC to join them after a few minutes for what he called a ‘causerie’. Lane was like his predecessor, Cedric Barton, in preferring to keep these meetings informal. For no reason Harpur could see, both Chiefs imagined themselves more able to cope with Iles when conditions were relaxed; the ACC usually managed to make a monkey of Lane, whatever the setting, and especially – as things turned out – today.
Lane had his cardigan on, a thing which Iles once alleged had been created in 1941 for a Merchant Navy stoker twice Lane’s size by a colour-blind, drunken Knit for Victory lady with frostbite of the hands. Around the office, he rarely wore shoes, and this afternoon he sported thick, loose-fitting cream socks.
Just before Iles joined them, the Chief had asked; ‘I was wondering what you and Desmond see as the implications of this boy in the dock. We’re going to have to let the name out soon, though I suppose half the world knows it already.’ Yes, Lane was obviously pleased with himself about something, voice sturdy, eyes alight, skin shining.
‘We haven’t really sorted it out yet, sir,’ Harpur replied.
Iles, elegant in one of his fine navy blazers with silver buttons, had come in then and sat down, giving a decorous, reassuring smile to the Chief.
‘We were discussing the Metro, Desmond,’ Lane had continued. ‘I was possibly a bit dismissive of the feelings the two of you had that something big could be brewing between the gangs.’ He glanced towards Iles, to show regret for his misjudgement and then added hurriedly; ‘Certainly this boy, Paynter, could be an indicator of something.’
‘Absolutely,’ Iles declared. ‘An indicator. Of something. Yes, one would go along with that. Yes, definitely of something, sir.’
The Chief, who was standing at the window, had gone on; ‘I’ve picked up a whisper or two, which might have a bearing?’
Iles’s grey head came up sharply, and he brought a look of intense interest to his face, possibly to mask disbelief. ‘Really, sir?’
‘I take it we’re talking about possible war between the two main outfits, aren’t we?’ Lane said. ‘Benny Loxton’s and Leo Tacette’s.’
‘Nobody much else counts now, sir,’ Harpur replied.
‘Quite,’ the Chief said. ‘This whisper, it’s to do with Leo.’ He sat on the edge of the desk, and grew suddenly apologetic. ‘But perhaps you’ve heard it. I might be making a fool of myself.’
‘You? Oh, I should think not, sir. But tell us what it is, do,’ Iles said gently.
And Lane had responded to this encouragement and spoke in the tone of a youngster recounting some mighty achievement to its parents, like making it home by himself on the bus: ‘Well, it’s the fact that Leo and his wife are coming up for a silver wedding celebration. Few days off, to be exact. It struck me – putting together your apprehensions, and this business at the docks, I wonder if something like a silver wedding party wouldn’t be a first class opportunity for anybody wanting to do Leo and his people damage. The whole clan present, people relaxed, boozed, in good spirits, and expecting the rest of the world to be. I went down and had a look around where the party’s to take place. There are plenty of possibilities. I’m inclined to think Benny and Phil Macey will have spotted them very early on. The ceremony’s in the Roundhouse. Alongside is the Cardinal Street office block. I went up in the lift. There’s a perfect line of fire through windows to the Roundhouse platform.’
Harpur had understood then why Lane seemed so proud, and had felt it was totally justified. Lane had done damn well, for a Chief.
‘There’s sure to be a presentation,’ he went on. ‘And it will be done on the platform, with everyone who matters in Leo’s team nicely grouped, like skittles.’
‘Yes,’ Harpur had replied. ‘A couple of points reinforce that idea. First, we think Benny has just taken on a new boy called Bobby Lentle, who’s a crack automatic rifle handler. He might still be sitting on weaponry taken from a gun shop raid at Nottingham in 1981. And Benny already has Norman Vardage, who’s bright with a rifle, too.’
‘Really?’ the Chief said. He had looked again towards Iles, who gave no response. Perhaps Harpur should have been alerted then by the Assistant Chief’s indifference, although that was how Iles reacted to almost anything said by Lane.
Harpur had ploughed on. ‘There’s a second point that could tie in: I’m told Justin Paynter had to be let go because he objected to an operation that might hurt or kill some woman.’
‘Ah, even more fascinating,’ Lane declared. ‘Daphne Tacette? This looks better and better. My God, we could take most of Loxton’s people, if we play this properly. Death of Paynter, fire-arms charges, conspiracy.’
It was only then, when Lane had gone as far as he could, and would come out of this looking like undisputed world supreme twat, recognized by all boards of control, that Iles said his piece about the changed location.
‘But why?’ Lane cried. ‘What’s happened?’
Iles said: ‘As I’ve indicated, sir, Leo’s not an idiot. Nor Lay-waste and Gerald. They knew a family party could be a target – knew it from the start.’
‘Of course. But my information, from a very good source, is that they had decided on the Roundhouse, nonetheless,’ Lane insisted. ‘The reservation’s made.’
‘And that information is undoubtedly correct, sir, basically,’ Iles told him. ‘All that’s wrong is it’s out of date, like . .
. oh, like believing Queen Victoria’s still on the throne. They certainly had decided on the Roundhouse. That’s no secret.’
‘Not?’ Lane said.
‘Public knowledge, sir,’ Iles replied. ‘If we had those Chinese wall newspapers it would be on them as well.’
The Chief remained silenced for several seconds. Harpur found it painful to watch. There might come a time, and soon, when Lane would be afraid to open his mouth if Iles were present. Now, when the Chief spoke again he could only fall back on repetition. ‘Why this change, then?’
‘The Metro in the dock, for a start,’ Iles explained. ‘That unsettled Leo, though he didn’t know the full story, obviously. Then he heard about the arrival of this sniping boy, Bobby Lentle. Routine research; they watch each other’s staffs, naturally, like any competing businesses. Gerald dug out the background on Bobby, and it shook Tacette. This is a man already on edge, who had apparently been continually advised by both sons that the Roundhouse was insecure. That clinched it. He’s not sure where the party’s to be instead, but it doesn’t matter, sir, Loxton can’t switch his preparations in time. And, in any case, he probably doesn’t know about the change. As I understand it, Leo’s letting the reservation at the Roundhouse stand, as cover.’
Lane stood again and took a few paces. Pointing as if in horror to a wet patch on the carpet where Harpur had spilled some tea, Iles shouted, feverishly: ‘Careful, your lovely socks, sir. God knows what Colin does in here when frustrated. You don’t want that stuff getting through to your skin.’
‘You’ve spoken to Leo?’ Lane asked.
‘At his restaurant,’ Iles replied. ‘The Chaff. He’s bitter about Benny. Well, what else? But especially because there was apparently some seeming move towards what Leo called “friendship and understanding”. He meant an alliance, of course, a carve-up. Leo even arranged to take Benny to his golf club for a meeting, letting other members see him, regardless – that rubbish dump for rabble up behind the King Richard Hotel. Leo intended going through with that anyway when we spoke, to keep things looking sweet, but he’s very angry.’