The Calling

by Jane Goodall

‘What?’

  ‘Rehearsals — with Sudden Deff. I’m the latest recruit to their act.’

  Jimmy made a noise like a schoolboy blowing a raspberry. ‘So now we know why you want to throw in the towel with the Met. Got better employment elsewhere.’

  He turned to Steve. ‘You’re a psychologist, aren’t you? Looks like you need to push a few buttons with your superiors. Get them to agree to Aidan’s star turn as part of the action plan.’

  ‘Where is this rehearsal?’ asked Steve.

  ‘Triangle. In two hours.’

  ‘Better get a move on, Steve,’ said Jimmy. ‘If you’re going to get the security laid on in time.’

  ‘You got him to agree to what?’ Briony was quite taken with the idea of Fletcher providing full security backup for an undercover officer taking part in a punk rock event, given his attitude so far. ‘Aidan’s reputation must have had a sudden turnaround,’ she said. ‘Has Pavan been working the wires?’

  ‘No, I have,’ said Steve. ‘Credit where it’s due, Briony. I had a talk with Chalmers, filled him in on a few details and he said he’d see Fletcher.’

  ‘So that’s why he was so prompt about the search warrant for the Mullighan flat. We’re going in there tomorrow morning. Only problem is the shortage of socos for all these jobs.’

  ‘Chalmers is seeing to that as well. Pavan’s getting an extra team from the Aldermaston labs — should be here tomorrow — and C1 are organising surveillance on 93 Lots Road. Aidan will have to share that little Gunter Grove place with a couple of men in flak jackets overnight, so all we have to worry about is what he does between now and four o’clock.’

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Gone back to his room. Insisted he had to fetch his guitar and chill out on his own for a while. He’s got temperamental all of a sudden.’

  ‘I’ll have to leave him in your hands. Things are starting to move fast here too.’

  Briony put down the phone and called Denis in. ‘Any sign of that package from the lab?’

  ‘Just come in.’ He handed it to her, along with a standard buff envelope bearing her name in block letters.

  She looked accusingly at the envelope. ‘What’s this?’

  ‘Apparently it was dropped off at the desk by a couple of the patrol officers from Rochester Row division.’

  ‘Report, I expect.’

  She tossed it aside, opened the package from the lab and drew out the evidence bag. Under the transparent cover, the features of the mask were squashed and indistinguishable, but there was a note from Pavan: Okay to handle this — prints have been taken. She pulled it out and held it up.

  ‘Very pretty,’ said Denis.

  It was not the face she was looking for. This one was a grotesque fantasy, with twisted lips, an overhanging brow and purple folds around the eye sockets. ‘Put it on,’ she said to Denis.

  ‘Not likely.’

  ‘Go on. It won’t bite you.’

  ‘Call me superstitious, but I wouldn’t he seen dead in a thing like that.’

  Briony realised she felt the same. ‘What is it about masks?’ she said. ‘I mean children wear them, don’t they?’

  ‘Not ones like that. To be honest I don’t even like the toy ones. I’ve seen little kids go hysterical wearing those plastic superman faces.’

  45

  Don’t you always know when something’s waiting for you? Maybe Aidan somehow did know, but that didn’t stop him walking right into it. He opened the door of his room and there was the man in the leather mask, sitting on the table holding a gun.

  ‘Shut the door. Nice and quiet.’

  Behind the mask the eyes were working overtime, and the hand holding the pistol wasn’t steady. It was a small pistol, quite possibly the very one that shot the unlucky crow up at Highgate. Which meant there was a good chance it was loaded. He waited, observing the eyes and the breathing. It wasn’t just external heat causing that forced exhalation, it was anger. Who would be most angry with him right now? Telltale flakes of dried Van Helsing’s blood were visible around the lower half of the mask, and were caught in the teeth of the mouth-zip.

  ‘Kaiser,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Shut it.’ Kaiser put both hands around the gun. ‘Or you’ll get this in your mouth. I’ve always wondered what splattered brains would look like — though in your case they might not spread very far. You’ve come to the end of the road, d’you know that?’

  ‘Which road are we talkin about?’

  ‘The future.’ Behind the zip, the mouth took on an ugly shape. ‘I’m lookin at someone that’s got no future.’

  Aidan was assessing the risk. Kaiser wasn’t convincing in this role and he evidently hadn’t thought it through, but he was worked up enough to pull the trigger. For a reliable disarming move the weapon had to be within contact range, and people who didn’t really want to shoot typically brought the gun in closer to convince you of the threat. A bit of needling might lure him forward.

  ‘Makes two of us, doesn’t it?’ Aidan said. ‘What would a man with a future be doing messing about with Sudden Deff? But don’t worry. I’m not about to take your job. I don’t think I’d get on too well with your workmates. They seem a bit — treacherous.’

  Kaiser sprang forward jabbing the gun into Aidan’s face, and Aidan used the momentum to trip him while twisting around to grab his arm. The gun went off as the two fell in a tangled roll on the floor. It wasn’t a manoeuvre Aidan would have liked any of his colleagues to witness, but it served. He gained possession of the gun and sent it spinning under the bed.

  Kaiser lunged again, so Aidan winded him with a swift punch to the stomach.

  ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Can we have a conversation now?’ Sensing that the resistance was spent for the moment, he unzipped the back of the mask and tugged it off. ‘I think we’ll communicate better without this thing in the way.’

  Underneath it Kaiser was red-faced and panting. He spat, then rolled onto his knees and pulled himself upright against the table.

  ‘Have a seat,’ said Aidan, pulling out the wooden chair for him. ‘Be my guest. This the first time you been here, is it? Or have you familiarised yourself with the place on previous occasions? Got your own key, perhaps?’ He sat on the bed. ‘You know, we’d have been better off going for a beer. Wouldn’t have got so hot and bothered. There’s things I wouldn’t mind talking to you about — sort of things you were discussing with Logan Royce. Where is he by the way? He hasn’t been around lately. I was expecting to see him up at Highgate.’

  Kaiser spat again, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then gave a dry laugh. ‘Of course you saw im. Yer stupid bollocking skuzz. Couldn’t have missed him.’

  An ugly picture was forming in Aidan’s mind. ‘What happened to Logan up there?’

  ‘He lost his gun,’ said Kaiser flatly.

  ‘Really? D’you think it’s likely he’ll come back for it?’

  ‘You’re fuzz. You work for the pigs.’

  ‘Oink. What’s happened to Logan?’

  ‘He got a part in the show.’ Kaiser squirmed on the wooden seat. ‘That’s all.’

  ‘And now you’re thinking — maybe that’s the part they got in mind for you. Is that it? What exactly did you come round here for I’m wondering. There are your mates in the Suddens bumpin people off for public entertainment — maybe you felt a bit left out so you pinched the gun and went huntin for somebody you could snuff out all of your own accord, just to prove yourself. Or is it more personal than that, eh Kaiser? You got a grudge against me that needs sorting out. Truth or dare. Seeing you bollocksed on the dare, now’s your big chance to have a go at the truth.’

  *

  Sharon got the bus back to the King’s Road, having decided she’d rather face the remarks of the passengers than slog all the way back on foot in the blazing sun. She sat on the top deck, trying to think what she could do now. Zig was going to protect Sol from being found out, no matter what he’d done or what else he plann
ed to do. And from studying those drawings, Sharon had a pretty clear idea now of what he was planning to do. She stared out of the window at all the people who had nothing more to worry about than what to have for dinner tonight, and wondered who was next on the hit list.

  Would the drawings give the police enough of a clue about what was happening? It was the job of detectives to understand clues, wasn’t it? She considered getting off the bus then finding the police station and just going in there and telling them everything, but the more she thought about it, the worse she liked that idea. Everyone in the punk scene would hate her for it, so the new life she’d made would be finished with and she’d end up being sent home to find a job in the Watford Marks and Sparks. The only thing to do was have it out with Zig. By the time she got off the bus, she’d made up her mind about that.

  She cut through into the estate, clutching her bag against her chest and rehearsing speeches in her head. This time she’d have to take the initiative. In Tetcott Road she stopped to buy some batteries at the little shop and saw Conker doing wheelies on his bike, with an audience of smaller boys gathered around him.

  As she walked past, he yelled out. ‘Hey, spiker!’ She ignored him, but he cycled up and headed her off. ‘Someone’s on to you.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Some spade come around here looking for you. Yesterday.’ He sprinted off, front wheel rearing in the air.

  Sharon had no idea what he meant, but she approached the house cautiously and opened the door as silently as possible, crept inside and pushed it to behind her, to block out the telltale light.

  But at the far end of the room sunlight poured down from the upstairs window so the painted creature was lit up like something on a film screen. For a few seconds she thought it was actually moving along the wall, until she realised that it was something else that was moving. Something much closer to her. An arm went around her shoulders and she meant to cry out, but her breath caught, just as the hand was pressed over her mouth. Someone was holding her from behind in a tight embrace, while in front of her a figure approached with its rubber face smiling in the half-light.

  *

  ‘Think about it,’ Aidan said. ‘What choice have you got? Either you shop the lot of them, or you go on trolling around under a deff sentence, wondering when you’re going to get jumped. One way or another it’s all over — so which way do you want it to be?’

  Kaiser’s mouth changed shape, as if he was about to say something that would cause him a bit of mental rearrangement, but before he could get the words out he was distracted by the sound of a car pulling up outside. Instantly he clammed up, his eyes doing a lightning reassessment of the scene. Aidan might have been quick enough to intercept the exit move but decided against it. He followed in time to see Kaiser throw himself down the stairs as the front door opened to reveal the figure of DCS Fletcher. It was a full-on collision.

  Fletcher was not a young man, but his training served him well enough to deal with it. He took the roll sideways and was back on his feet before Aidan got there to help him, while his two officers took possession of Kaiser and got him in handcuffs. Fletcher dusted his hands off against each other, gave Kaiser a good looking over, then addressed Aidan.

  ‘This wasn’t intended as a social visit,’ he said. ‘But I can’t say that was the reception I was expecting. Do you intend to vouch for the lad here, or will I arrest him for assaulting a police officer?’

  You would too, thought Aidan. And make it stick. But there was no point trying to help Kaiser out of it now, because forensics would have absolutely no trouble reading the script of what had happened upstairs. Signs of struggle. Shot fired at the wall. Discharged firearm with the fingerprints of the accused all over it.

  ‘Call a paddy wagon,’ Fletcher instructed the officers, ‘and get him taken to the station for questioning. Ask the control office to tell DI Williams she’s about to get a special delivery.’

  ‘And now,’ he said to Aidan, ‘you and I had better go upstairs and have a chat.’

  Aidan led the way, expecting to be told the Suddens lurk was all off. Funny how in Babylon the stuff-ups were managed with such perfect timing. No contact when there was an urgent need, but just when he was getting the most crucial witness in the mood for some storytelling, the mainman rolls up to sabotage it.

  *

  Interview room two had collected the built-up heat of the afternoon, so when you opened the door you got a concentrated blast of it, laced with the sweated tensions of the day’s work in there. Steve deposited a page of illegible scrawl on the table in front of Briony as he slumped into a seat.

  ‘I had five minutes’ briefing over the phone from Chalmers, that’s all. Oh, and we’ve got these.’ He opened his briefcase and took out a gun, a key and a leather mask, wrapped and tagged as exhibits. ‘Apparently he got his own key to Aidan’s room. Nifty. Punter calls himself Kaiser. He’s refused to give his real name.’

  ‘John’s a fair bet. According to Vince Telford they’re all called John down there in punkland. Or Johnny.’

  ‘Vince Telford?’

  ‘Owns the Triangle and most of the other clubs in this area. So Kaiser’s one of the Suddens?’

  ‘Vocalist. But Aidan picked up there’s some kind of rift between him and the others — serious enough to make this guy an internal candidate for deff row. So this afternoon, Aidan got back to Gunter Grove .’

  Steve was talking fast and Briony found it hard to follow the ins and outs of the story.

  ‘So,’ he concluded, briskly ticking off points on his fingers. ‘Kaiser should be a mine of information about who the Suddens are, what attracts them to the Walker, how they found out about — ’

  ‘Just a minute. What’s he charged with?’

  ‘Pointing a gun at Aidan, basically. In fact, that gun’s been fired.’

  ‘Then that’s where we start.’

  ‘You can take it from there if you like. I’ll broaden it out. Ready?’

  *

  Kaiser looked the part. He was tall and lean but without the scrawny look most of the punks had, and there was a certain style about him, suggestive of someone who liked attracting attention. His black jacket was stitched up deliberately askew, with rips in the sleeves and SS regalia pinned to the lapels. The swastika looked like a genuine tattoo, not some inked-in fake, and Briony remembered Ken Keagan mentioning a character with a swastika on his scalp who’d been hanging about near the lab building in Lambeth.

  ‘John,’ she began, ‘we’ve been hearing about you. So you paid an unexpected visit to our friend Nick this afternoon.’ She held up the key. ‘Where did you get this from?’

  ‘Bollocks.’

  ‘All right, John. We don’t actually need intelligent answers from you to make the charges stick.’ She nodded towards the three exhibits. ‘Because these pretty much tell the story for you. But I’m curious about why it was so urgent for you to talk to Nick. Seeing you evidently had a pretty smooth covert operation going — getting in and out of his room, intercepting his forensic dispatches, tracing his movements. Why would you expose yourself like that?’

  Kaiser was smirking, but the lines on his face conveyed more stress than amusement.

  ‘I’m sure you know what I mean by exposing yourself,’ said Briony. ‘Because you seem to have blown your own cover now, haven’t you?’ She held up the mask. ‘Can’t hide behind this any more.’ She glanced at Steve, signalling, over to you.

  Steve predictably started by lighting a cigarette. He even blew a couple of smoke rings, then laughed. ‘Bit of a performer myself, John, if you don’t mind my saying so. Though I don’t suppose I could compete for your job. Vocals, is that right? What tune do you sing this to?

  Down in the dark satanic mills

  Where the wheels keep turning over iron grilles

  Don’t look now

  You’ll never see how

  London’s invisible machinery drills.’

  ‘Kills,’
said John. ‘Kills, not drills.’

  Steve snapped his fingers ostentatiously. ‘Of course. I knew I’d made a blunder there somewhere. Kills. You’d be keen to get that message across correctly, I suppose, being a group that’s decided to call themselves Sudden Deff. Never miss an opportunity to push that point — do you, John? Is that because it’s all a bit of a bluff?’ He stopped, fussily rearranging the objects on the table.

  ‘This wouldn’t be your own pistol, I don’t suppose. It’s an American Colt — not the kind of thing you’d easily get in London, so my guess is you pinched it from someone else. See there’s a difference of opinion about you lot amongst our lot. There are some cops who would look at you and think, He’s just a fashion plate. Wouldn’t know a storm trooper from a garden gnome if it weren’t for the difference in the cut of the boots. And as for all that deff and nonsense, he’d be scared shitless if anyone offered him a tour through the morgue. That’s what some people think.’

  ‘Some people are brain dead,’ said Kaiser. ‘They don’t think, they just talk.’ He made a claptrapping gesture with his hand.

  ‘Okay, Kaiser John. What would you like to do with those people?’

  ‘I wouldn’t be bothered with em. They think they’re in control, but that don’t mean nothing. They don’t control us. We’re out of control and there’s nothing they can do about it.’

  Briony cut in swiftly, holding up the key. ‘Where d’you get this from, Kaiser?’

  ‘Friend of mine makes em.’

  ‘A friend who cuts keys? That’d be Johnny Mullighan, I should think. Got a collection of them, have you?’

  ‘Couple of hundred.’

  ‘So where do you get the originals from?’

  He shrugged. ‘People are careless with their keys. They leave them on the windowsill or the desktop. In their coat pocket. Under the doormat.’

  ‘I get the picture,’ she said. ‘I think you got this from the Lambeth labs. How did you manage that?’

  There was a hint of a smile. ‘Bloke in there keeps them on his desk. And in this hot weather he likes the window open. When he goes out he just takes the keys he needs and leaves the rest sitting there. There’s nothing that’s easier to hook than a set of keys, if you got a rod that’s long enough. Easy to put em back as well, so he’s got no idea they been touched. Then you just follow the bloke around a bit, tail him in his little green car, and he shows you all the places you can get into.’