by Jane Goodall
She lined up the next three drawings, which she could now see were parts of the underground world closer up: a pattern of tunnels and caves spread vertically as well as horizontally through the space. Inside the tunnels were more figures — beasts with wings and savage faces. In the central picture two of the creatures dominated the scene, and were surging forward out of a cave with vast snarling mouths. Active evil is better than passive good was inscribed over the entrance to the cave. Passages leading off on either side of this matched up with the edges of the drawings on the left and the right, so they actually made a continuous strip.
To the right, the passage connected with a vertical shaft in which a cage was suspended. Faces were visible behind the bars, each a mask of terror. There were faces in the third picture, too, but these were different. They belonged to a trio of full-length figures, recognisably punks by the cut of their hair and clothes but cleverly rendered in the style of Blake. It was the last group of drawings that prompted her to pick up the phone again.
‘Steve? Something you have to see.’
She laid the images side by side. On the left, it was the Walker under the lamp post, as he appeared in Yeller, but with the features brought out in sharp, insinuating detail. In the central picture the figure had come closer. Surrounded by flames, it had giant black wings and held a spear in its raised hand. Underneath were the words Angel of Deff On the right, the angel was standing over a crouched figure, about to strike.
*
By eleven Aidan was crawling the walls. He’d been cooped up in the Gunter Grove room since seven o’clock last night, under close guard. A trip to the Roebuck, he was told, was out of the question. This meant he had no chance of picking up on the tribal intelligence about the show, because Flak had left it even later than usual to get the word around about where and when the next ‘break out’, as he called it, was happening. He was very confident of his following, that lad.
Passing the officer outside his door with a thumbs-up sign, Aidan went through to the bathroom to find it was already occupied by another officer, busy with his electric razor.
‘Sorry,’ said the man, switching off the razor and finger-tipping his shiny jaw. He unplugged and turned to Aidan. ‘All yours.’ Funny how the smoothies always said sorry when they invaded your territory.
Aidan grimaced at himself in the bathroom mirror, then used his own razor to chop some more cavities in his hair. He was getting to like this look.
‘I’m leaving in ten minutes,’ he announced as he came out of the bathroom.
‘You can’t,’ said the smooth man, who was evidently the one in charge of the little Gunter Grove contingent. ‘Departure time from here is 12.45 pm.’
‘If that’s when you’re leaving —’ said Aidan — ‘fine with me. I’m leaving in ten minutes.’ He collected his things in the bedroom as the man talked earnestly into a two-way radio.
48
Denis and Leonie returned with the news that Sharon Smith’s address actually corresponded to the location of the Sands End gas works. Steve had been on the phone to the Tate Gallery, while Briony talked to the officers from Rochester Row division who had delivered the package. But the story from both ends was thin.
‘It’s the usual problem — lazy observation,’ said Steve. ‘We could probably get more out of them in a face-to-face discussion. You know, take them back through the whole scenario.’
‘We don’t have time.’ Briony was staring at the spread of drawings, which for all their complexity were spelling something out to her that was so obvious it had blind-sided the lot of them. They had some idea of what was being planned, they had an exact idea of when, but where? ‘I have a feeling that a big mistake’s been made.’
‘Not by us,’ he quipped immediately.
‘Maybe not. But we should have picked it. That question last night about whether the rest of the Suddens might have seen through Aidan’s cover. You said if they do know, they’ll be trying to lure him into a trap, but what they won’t know is that he’s got a backup team primed to spring them.’
‘I don’t think I put it quite like that — but yes? What are you getting at?’
‘Think about it, Steve. If they’ve rumbled him, they’ve been ahead of us all along. Why wouldn’t they know there’s a bloody great sting operation organised around him? Tell me why they wouldn’t at least guess that?’
‘Quite possibly they would. I still don’t get what you’re on about.’ But even as he finished the sentence, she could see it was dawning on him.
‘And if they did — ’ she said.
‘They might use Aidan to decoy the bloody great operation. You think that’s what’s happening? Why?’
‘Do you know anything about William Blake?’
‘Enough to know where the Suddens get their best lines from.’
‘Then you know what they mean by the dark satanic mills.’
‘Factories. The industrial world. Number one enemy of all good radicals.’
‘Not just any factories, Steve. This is the Lots Road power station.’ She pointed to the first set of images. ‘It’s got underground transport tunnels. 93 Lots Road would be here — right opposite the factory. So this basement Aidan went into could be connected to the tunnels, which is exactly what this next drawing suggests. There are people trapped down there, Steve.’
‘In something that looks like a lift shaft. There’s very likely one of those under the power station.’
‘This is the Suddens’ home territory.’ Briony was warming to her own convictions. ‘The World’s End. This is where they’re planning their big “live deff act”. And Aidan’s being used to draw C1 and all their manpower off on a hiding to nothing. It’s eleven o’clock, Steve. Assuming he hasn’t been misled about the time as well, we’ve got three hours to head this off, and practically no resources.’
‘He won’t have been misled about the time. If you’re right, they’ll want the decoy timed for synchronicity. And they’ll want you and me left without an army of bodyguards.’
‘So one of us is supposed to be the highlight of the live deff act?’
‘Or both.’ Steve was rubbing the top of his scalp vigorously, causing his wiry hair to stand on end. ‘We’d better watch our step. Before we go galloping off into the wilds of the World’s End, we need more information.’ He knocked on his forehead. ‘Think, think, think.’
They both sat for a minute, doing just that.
‘We’re the bait,’ said Steve. ‘They know about us. They’ve been following our movements, they know what cars we get around in and they’ll be aware that we’re here. If this is the opportunity they were hoping for, then they’ll come to us. Active evil to our passive good.’
‘Then they’ve mistaken our style, haven’t they?’ Briony’s eye kept being drawn to the image of the Walker raising his spear at the hunched figure, whose face was hidden. ‘We may be bait but we don’t have to be sitting ducks. We’ve got a map of their terrain here. And surely there’s more to be got out of Kaiser. I seem to remember the words he ended on last were “I know”. At the risk of another splitting headache, I suppose we’d better try and get him to elaborate.’
*
Sharon had managed to fall asleep for a while, and was woken by the sound of machinery. The lift was moving. Panic blanked her mind as she realised she was going up. The lift clanked to a halt and a torch beam was waving in front of her, close by, on the other side of the mesh door.
‘Sharon! Are you okay?’ Zig whispered. ‘Just tell me you’re all right.’
‘I seem to be,’ said Sharon unsteadily.
‘I’m getting you out of there. You hold the torch. Somebody gave me this little doover for opening locks with.’
Sharon grasped at the barrel of the torch, which helped to steady her hands. At first all she wanted to see with it was a familiar face. Zig was wide-eyed and pale. She was holding something that looked a bit like one of those keys you used on a sardine tin.
‘He
re,’ Zig said, pointing to a place on the lift door where Sharon could see an old keyhole. ‘Give me some light just here.’ She began poking at the lock, jiggling the pick this way and that, but nothing happened.
With each repeated attempt, Zig pressed herself closer in to the wire mesh, pushing the lift to the back of the shaft.
‘Watch it!’ Sharon burst out. ‘There’s a gap. You’ll fall in the gap.’ Zig pulled away and the lift swung forward. ‘Maybe it will work from the inside. You try.’
Sharon swapped the torch for the lock-pick, which she examined closely. Better get this right, or both of them were going to end up in a heap a very long way down there. It was just a piece of stiff wire, with a twist at the hooked end. She felt around the edges of the keyhole, which was big enough to fit the tip of her little finger.
‘I watched my stepdad put a lock on the door of the shed,’ she said. ‘I think the actual mechanism’s underneath the keyhole. In here.’ She tapped the metal plate.
Zig held the torch at an angle so the light came from just above the lock. Sharon worked the hooked end of the pick into the round part of the keyhole until it engaged in the groove, then slid it carefully downwards, flicking it sharply at the base of the keyhole. There was a distinct clunk, but the pick seemed to be stuck. She was sweating, holding for dear life to the little piece of wire so it bit into the flesh of her fingers.
‘That’s it!’ said Zig. ‘Now just keep pulling.’
Sharon took a breath and gave a sharp tug. The pick flew from her hand, into outer space and down the shaft, but as she burst into tears the door swung open.
*
They’d put Kaiser in the holding cells next to a particularly noisy drunk so the two of them could fight it out on the decibel count.
‘How are you today, Kaiser John?’ Steve greeted him breezily. ‘Sorry you’ve had to suffer the ravings of the brain dead all night — I know you’re a man with standards when it comes to entertainment. I’m afraid that sort of company’s par for the course when you get yourself banged up in one of Her Majesty’s prisons. I’m told you get used to the social life in there over time — you sort of settle in to the daily banality of it — you know, blokes whose idea of bucking the system is spitting porridge around.’
As Steve continued with the sketch of prison life, detailing its approach to fashion and hair styling, Briony could see Kaiser’s face struggling to regain its hard set, but not quite making it. There was a different kind of tension about him this morning, that of someone confronting an unfamiliar reality.
‘What a sad end to a career of revolutionary fire and brimstone,’ Steve said. ‘Course, it all depends on whether we can make these charges stick. Police evidence will be crucial, which is where our colleague Nick comes in. If he was to explain yesterday’s incident along the lines that you were trying to help us with our enquiries, that might give things a different complexion.’
He allowed a pause for the idea to sink in before pushing it further. ‘I mean, there might be limits to how far you’d want to go with this deff business, mightn’t there? Just because you’ve got a swastika on the side of your head, doesn’t mean you’d want to be part of a killing game, does it? Swastika’s a symbol that can mean all kinds of things. I’m told in some cultures it’s a symbol of life.’ Steve leant forward, lowering his voice. ‘Life’s a whole lot better, John, when you’re not in jail.’
Another pause. Steve made a play of looking through his notes. ‘Yesterday, you were telling us you know about the purpose behind all this tag and bobtail game the Suddens are playing with the police. You might be able to explain what me and my colleague here, DI Williams, are doing on Deff Row. See, we’re quite okay people really, close-up. We’re not even completely brain dead.’
Kaiser John’s chest heaved. ‘They couldn’t give a stuff about you. The Walker’s their thing. You’re just a way they can get connected to him.’ He showed no signs of wanting to elaborate.
‘You know,’ said Briony, ‘we paid a visit to the Walker — very recently — and I’d say if anyone was an example of being brain dead, he’s it. He’s flatlined, John. He’s completely vacant. There wouldn’t be any point trying to impress him.’
‘They see it different.’ Kaiser’s chest heaved again, and he gave a single explosive cough. ‘From their point of view the Walker is out and about.’
‘How’s that then?’ asked Steve.
‘Got our own Walker.’
Steve dived in again. ‘Our own? Just watch your pronouns there, John. Don’t you mean their own? After all, you’re not subscribing to this loony stuff, are you? Anyway, carry on. They got their own Walker. Someone’s inherited the role, have they?’
‘Sol.’
‘Simon Oliver,’ Briony offered.
‘Who?’ Kaiser bristled. ‘Never heard of him.’
‘Sol’s name is Simon Oliver. Anyway, never mind about that for now. Sol thinks he’s the Walker, is that what you’re telling us?’
‘He’s got the Walker’s face.’
‘Oh yes,’ said Briony casually. ‘The life mask. Taken in Brixton by a man called Lenny Dignall. So he gave it to Sol, did he? What happened to Lenny Dignall?’
Kaiser jabbed a fist at his throat and made a gurgling noise. ‘Someone done him in,’ Steve interpreted. ‘Sol killed Lenny Dignall. How?’
‘With a spike.’
‘Spike or spoke?’ Steve shot back.
‘A spoke. A bicycle spoke. It was there, just lying on the ground, and he picked it up and got him through the neck with it. Nobody knew that was going to happen. It was like — soon as he put the face on, something got into him.’
‘Nobody knew it was going to happen,’ Briony repeated. ‘So how did you all get involved?’
Kaiser looked them in the eye for the first time. ‘Because that’s what the Suddens are supposed to be about, isn’t it? Sudden Deff. So they made it part of the act. That’s how they got rid of the body. Incinerated it.’
‘This is Sol and who else?’ Steve asked
‘Flak. Johnny Mullighan. Johnny’s the one who got hooked on the Walker in the first place. They’re his heroes. Charles Manson, the Walker, Ian Brady. Not Christie.’
‘No?’ Steve smiled. ‘Wrong image, eh? Suit, bald head, specs. Little terraced house. Let’s get back to this Sol character. What can you tell us about him?’
‘He’s off the planet. I thought it was a freak thing, what happened to Dignall, and they had to cover it up. But I didn’t know about what he was going to do to that bloke up in Hampstead. Maybe Sol didn’t know either.’
‘For somebody who doesn’t know what he’s doing,’ said Steve, ‘he seems to have an awful lot of accomplishments. Do you know what he’s planning for today?’
‘No.’ Kaiser barked the word with sudden volume. ‘I’m out of it. I told them I’m out of it. I’m just doing the vocals.’
Steve pressed on. ‘But they couldn’t let you be out of it, could they? You know too much to be out of it. So what do you know about the concert today?’
‘I’m not in it.’
‘They claim to be planning a “live deff act”. What does that mean?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine.’
‘Well my guess is pretty good,’ said Steve. ‘I’d say they had a victim lined up. Who?’
‘Maybe it was gunna be me. But that wouldn’t be all. “Make the show bigger — ” I’ve heard Flak say that a few times ... ’
‘Meaning?’
‘They wanna light more than one wick.’
‘Suppose they’ve somebody then. Where would this person be now?’
Kaiser squirmed. ‘I don’t know. I’d be guessing.’
‘Then guess, John.’
‘They’d be kept under.’
‘Under where?’ Steve fired back. ‘The cemetery?’
‘Or the factory.’
They called a halt to the interview at 11.55 am, with a long list of key questions yet to be explored. They sim
ply could not afford to spend any more time that way, with the performance due to start in only two hours’ time. The new developments had to be reported to C1, but since Chalmers was himself out at Highgate there was no one immediately available to command a turnaround. Messages had to be relayed back and forth, with the risk that the force of the case for redeployment wouldn’t be communicated.
Fortunately, there were no such difficulties in getting help from the security manager at the power station. He had only a small number of staff on site but was ready to assist with any search operation, or to advise on access and underground facilities.
Steve made preliminary arrangements with him, while Briony did a quick stocktake of the CID and patrol staff available and called them together for a briefing at twelve-thirty, leaving only ten minutes for the action plan to be thrashed out.
‘The question is,’ said Steve, ‘do we take Kaiser with us?’
‘No. He’s too much of a liability.’ Briony was studying the tunnel drawings. ‘We can get the orientation we need from these.’
‘Possibly. But I’m wondering if we can use Kaiser in another way. To attract attention.’
‘Whose attention?’
‘Theirs. It’s a high risk strategy I admit, but look — ’ He stood beside her, leaning over the array of pages on the desk. ‘It’s a labyrinth. And the buildings above it are bloody vast. You could lose a football team just in one of those ancillary buildings at the back. We’d be hard pressed to organise an effective stake-out, even if we had all the personnel up at Highgate. We’ll have to concentrate on a restricted area and try to get them to come to us.’
‘We set a trap.’