***
“Make the call,” Yurev ordered. Jack Calder’s mobile phone failed to connect on the first two attempts, but on the third try it rang.
May-Ling’s number showed on Jack’s caller display. He sat along the table from Jules and Malky with the line attached to an amplified speaker. They knew he wouldn’t hear his wife first.
“Hello.”
“Shut up and listen,” came a rasp from the amplifier. “Here’s your wife.”
Her voice sounded for only seconds as May-Ling began to speak. “Jack, whatever happens to me, look after our son, Albie.” Then the growl returned.
“Now you know she’s not dead.” A pregnant pause. “Yet.”
“What do—?”
“Shut up. Stay out of business that doesn’t concern you and you might get her back in one piece.”
The line cut.
Jack stared at the mobile, then raised his eyes to Malky and Jules.
“At least we know where she’s been taken, ould son,” came Malky’s brogue, as Jules nodded in agreement.
May-Ling’s reference to their boy, ‘Albie’, told them the call came from Albania. All the men in the room were well aware Jack’s son was not named Albie, but Tommy, after his own father.
“So far, so good, Jack,” said Jules. “They’re still trying to figure out how to deal with us. Until then, they won’t harm her. Jack suppressed the urge to ask what the hell was good about her still being with these bastards, but held his tongue. The flicker in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by his boss. Jules was satisfied his man was handling the situation okay for the meantime. The ‘so far, so good’ applied to Jack as well. “We’ve got more work to do, let’s move.”
***
Jozef and Yurev had some decisions to make. In the last few hours, reports of the killings of their dealers in Paris and Amsterdam and the manner of their deaths had reached them in Durres. Only three other men accompanied them as close security in a quiet farmhouse outside of the town. Seven kilometres away, May-Ling had been taken to the former hotel building along the seafront where the rest of his gangsters billeted.
A bottle of vodka sat between them. “Tell me, Yurev, is this the same bastards? Or are our new partners double-crossing us already?”
“I’ve had watchers on the ISP guys. They were all in London yesterday, I’m sure of that. So they didn’t do it. All of the knifings happened in Chinatowns. I don’t like the way this is going, Jozef. But I can’t think why Ching would be so stupid. We’ve already lifted the woman his boys couldn’t handle. He knows that. So why the hell would he take down our people at this stage?”
“Maybe he’s showing us he still has options on his side, trying to strengthen his partnership position before we start in earnest. Remember we did something similar in Serbia, and it worked for us? Perhaps another little sprinkling of the same medicine on his back door wouldn’t go wrong?” replied Kaplani, swallowing his third vodka of the afternoon.
“Maybe, yes. Either way, that’s no loss to us. Keeping some heat on him’ll show him we can burn him at any time,” said Yurev. “I’ve been thinking on how to do this, Jozef. Let’s step up the programme with the merchandise. The next shipment’ll be ready in a week, a big load. We send him a message we have to meet, all the troops together to make this work. He can bring his guys, armed if he likes. Now’s not the time for craziness. We have the shipment brought here to the farmhouse. We’ll show him we’re serious about the partnership. Afterwards we can decide how long we stay partners. Just sitting around waiting for mutual killings isn’t good for anybody. Too many interruptions have hit us already. Let’s get back on track.”
Solid advice from his lieutenant as usual, thought Kaplani. “That makes sense. Yes, go ahead, arrange it. The business comes first.”
Yurev made the call to the Chief of Police in Warsaw who relayed the message to London. The transcripts landed on Marcel Benoit’s desk minutes after completion. Five days to wait for a gathering of both sides in the farmhouse outside of Durres. Jules Townsend could move on that news.
***
Grasp the nettle, the best way to flush this out. Paul Manning had reached a dead end after watching May-Ling being forced into the limousine in the garage three days ago. He’d also picked up on the Met guys following him. Did they think him so stupid not to spot a tail? Christ, he’d been doing this for a living most of his career. For the next few days, he’d make sure he’d only be followed when he wanted to be tailed. He considered whether he should give up the chase now, but the nagging kept at him. He had to bring this one home. Rennie was itching to find a way to force him out completely. Well, he wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction. So grasp the nettle it was, and why he sat cooling his heels in the outer office of Charlie Parker, waiting for the fat slime-ball to see him. It hadn’t been difficult to slip his markers on the way here, and the lawyer wouldn’t have a hint he’d been sidelined. A little weight on him might produce enough to provoke some movement from Ching Mak. He was well aware nothing would frighten Parker directly. The door swung open and the sumo figure appeared, arm bayoneted with his hand opened forward anticipating the handshake from the Head of Serious Crimes.
“To what do I owe this pleasure, Paul?” The familiarity grated, but Manning shook the proffered mitt with a half smile.
“Just a little chat, Charlie. Help us with a few enquiries is all.”
A mess of printed papers, scrawled notes and legal books covered the lawyer’s desk. He pointed to a chair and took his own seat on the opposite side from the policeman. “Excuse the garbage, but as they say, where there’s muck there’s brass, eh, Paul? Now, what kind of questions could I possibly be helping the Head of Serious Crimes with? My parking fines?”
“I wouldn’t waste your precious time on penny-ante crap, Charlie. I just wondered if you’d like to share with me some of your conversation from Hyde Park the other day.” Full frontal approach. Handle that, Charlie boy.
The smile disappeared from the lawyer’s face. “What conversation?”
“Oh, come, come, Charlie. You don’t often take the morning air in Her Majesty’s parks for the good of your health. I’d say you and your friends were having a pretty cosy old party. You and Mister Ching and two new friends was it? Anybody I would remember?”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” replied Parker, looking straight into Manning’s eyes. “Conversations I may or may not have with my clients are confidential, and unless you have a warrant or another reasonable pretext to interrogate me on any supposed meetings, it’s none of your business, professionally or otherwise. How else can I help you?”
“I didn’t expect a bundle of information to tumble forth, Charlie. You’re familiar with the drill. If you can think of anything to assist in our enquiries to remove any doubts in our minds about your client’s possible involvement in the incident at his warehouse, you have my contact number.”
“Are you threatening us? As far as I can gather, your own part in the fiasco the other night could lead my client to consider bringing charges against you and your trigger-happy police thugs.”
“Pointless in the extreme, Charlie. Let me lay it out for you, off the record, smart lawyer as you are. We both know Ching’s businesses were smacked around. Yes, I’m aware you’ll say these’re nothing to do with him, but hear me out. I don’t give a fuck about your client’s interests. I want to nail the guys who committed murder and arson on such a scale. It might even serve his purpose to help me do that. I’ll leave you now. Think it over, and if we need to talk, that’ll be off the record too.” Before Charlie Parker could respond Manning stood up. “I’ll let myself out.”
For the first time in a long time, Ching Mak’s lawyer held his tongue.
Paul Manning was well pleased with his visit. He had rattled Charlie Parker, but better still, amongst the mess on the lawyer’s desk he’d seen on the yellow scribbling pad a date and a destination. Durres via Tirana, Albania. The han
dwritten note had Parker’s name in capital letters, coupled with his client, Ching Mak.
Manning’s next call was to his own personal travel agent. A trip to Albania scheduled for the day before Charlie Parker and Ching Mak was easily arranged. His warrant card would ensure no problem in shipping a machine pistol in his luggage, always good to carry some hard insurance. Between departure and now, he would disappear from the radar screen of Rennie’s hounds. By the time he flew, they’d be nowhere near the airport. This was going much better.
CHAPTER 28
The Interpol agents in Durres found ground surveillance from a distance easy. The man known simply as Yurev commuted a few times between the seafront building and a farmhouse property, usually accompanied by at least two other men. In the evenings, the lights shone only from the second and third floors. All of this was relayed back to Marcel Benoit and forwarded to Jules Townsend.
From her room window at the rear of the old hotel May-Ling looked across to a mixture of even older looking buildings. The area, tired and run down, typified an impoverished country, where investment in property maintenance ranked a low priority. Flimsy, external iron fire escapes, probably never used since the hotel’s construction, hugged the end of the building. She judged from the buildings opposite her room was on the third floor, but these old structures had high ceilings, with twenty feet between levels, making the drop to the ground too steep. The bed was a single mattress with a cover sheet beside which a small side table stood with only a cotton cloth covering, topped with an old glass-framed photograph of the seafront taken in another age. Back then, this must have been classed as a desirable single guest room. A carpet well worn from years of use reeked of ingrained staleness.
She heard the key turn in the lock. Each mealtime, two men appeared, one with a paper plate and something to eat, the other with a gun covering her from a few feet away. No means of attack from that distance. The smaller man offered the meal to her with a grunt. She let it share the table with the seafront picture. Pieces of cold lamb with a distinctive herbal aroma told her this was Turkish food. Not her favourite menu item, but she was hungry. At least so far no-one had struck her or made any threats after the trip from England. She knew the waiting was part of the sequence in hostage situations. Almost on cue as she finished the lamb, the door opened again. The stocky man who’d held the gun at her in the garage stood blocking the exit.
“It’s time for you to talk to your husband,” the bass voice filled the small room. “One message you’ve to give him, and one message only. You tell him we’re treating you well. You understand?”
May-Ling didn’t argue. From the body language of the minder beside him, this guy ran the show. This must be Yurev. He fit the description already given to the ISP team. She had thought about that ever since the kidnapping, but now she was certain. So, where was Kaplani? Yurev inserted the SIM card and waited for the device to activate. He scrolled to Jack Calder’s name and pressed the dialling button. May-Ling’s mind raced. What to say?
In London, the call shrilled twice before Jack touched the answer key. Yurev’s voice echoed through the speakers in the boardroom.
“Just listen. Your wife is being well-cared for. You can guarantee that continues by staying away from us. If you behave yourself she may come back to you within a couple of weeks.” He handed the mobile to May-Ling. “Tell him you’re okay.”
Jack got in first before she could speak. “Albie’s fine, his birthday’s the day after tomorrow. I’ve bought him an early present.”
“Thank God, Jack. They’re feeding me alright. I had lamb today for the third time here; it’s a bit high but manageable.”
Yurev took the phone from her and ended the conversation with, “Do as I say and she won’t be harmed.”
***
Jack and the rest of the team in the room nodded in satisfaction at the coded messages briefly but successfully given and received.
‘Albie’s birthday in two days time with an early present’ informed May-Ling they understood the location and would act on it early in the morning the day after tomorrow. In turn her reference to the ‘third time’ gave her situation on the third floor.
“I’ve told you before, Jack, your wife’s got the monopoly on brains in your family,” said Jules.
Jack returned the smile, but his guts still churned and a bitter after-taste dug at the back of his throat. Let’s get moving on this.
***
Paul Manning had no idea where the meeting was supposed to be in Durres. Being on site at Tirana airport before his quarry arrived meant he could track them the day after his own arrival. He hired a car for a week at the airport rental outlet and familiarised himself with the drive to Durres, which took no more than half an hour. His passport made no reference to his police status and he booked into his hotel as just another English holiday visitor, then spent several hours getting his bearings in the town.
***
Charlie Parker had crossed the line many times in his career as a criminal lawyer. Not revealing confidential information on his clients was a legal privilege afforded by the same tenets of justice he manipulated so well, provided such information didn’t relate directly to illegal activity. He invariably delivered, justifying his fees among the highest in the business. But life is seldom perfect, not even for the best counsellor in London. The medical condition contributing to his obesity compounded a growing malignance in his nervous system. The test results revealed signs of deterioration in his motor neuron capability He had accepted maybe four or five reasonable years remained after which it was anybody’s guess how fast the end would come. The concept of a God had never been a factor in his life and he wasn’t about to believe in one now. Charlie Parker had to look after Charlie Parker. He was pushing away from the wrong side of fifty. It was time to cash in to enjoy whatever short future lay ahead. Ching Mak’s situation provided a perfect opportunity.
“You must tell me everything, Mak. I can protect you only as far as I’m aware of what’s really going on.” His statement rang clear enough. “You’ve seen already, I’m able to fix most things. You’re asking me to come with you to Albania tomorrow to meet these guys again, and we both know this isn’t the Red Cross we’re dealing with here.” His client nodded as Parker continued, “The way I balance things, we’re looking at a straightforward business proposition, risk versus reward. Your reward is a clear legal slate and your business interests protected as tight as I’ll make them for you.”
“And my risk?”
“Your risk is the money you’re going to pay me to get this done. My risk is stepping over to your side of the line, but I can handle that. My reward equals your risk.”
“How much do you have in mind, Mister Parker?”
With that question the lawyer knew he had him, the matter of price all that remained.
“One and a half million dollars, one third to be paid into this account by close of business today,” he said, pushing a piece of paper across his desk to Ching. “The balance payable by the end of the month. My retainer will be an additional twenty thousand dollars plus expenses per month starting with immediate effect. All paid into the same account.”
Ching looked at the paper and read the name of Parker’s offshore account with the Cobalt Bank in Gibraltar. He raised an eyebrow toward the lawyer. “This is a lot of money, my friend.”
“My professional reputation’s on the line, Mak. You become my sole client, and I keep us both out of trouble.” The smile was fixed but hardly warm.
“Let me make a phone call. In private.”
Parker stood up and left his office to allow Ching Mak to place his call, knowing it would be to Madam Ching. The conversation between mother and son lasted only five minutes and Ching called out for Parker to return, the principal/client relationship already turning to boss/employee.
“You’re too expensive. I can do total one million dollars, two-fifty thousand today, the rest at the end of the month. Your retainer’s okay.”
“A million two-fifty, three-fifty thousand today, nine hundred thousand later,” the lawyer countered.
Ching Mak stood up and stretched his hand across the table. “Deal.”
This time Charlie Parker’s smile was for real. A good day’s business.
“Okay, let’s start work.”
CHAPTER 29
The watchers logged the increased vehicle traffic to and from the farmhouse. The chain of passage from Istanbul to Albania repeated the familiar pattern as the drugs moved in broken-down shipments. Per instructions from Benoit, the Interpol agents observed, with no intervention at this stage. In the past twenty-four hours more of Kaplani’s men arrived as the build-up to the powwow started.
Jozef and Yurev agreed. A partnership might work, but the terms of engagement had to be developed in a way to protect their own interests, and they expected nothing less from Ching’s side. Yurev had already described Charlie Parker, a sharp mind and a clever lawyer. Kaplani had no concerns. His man Yurev matched anything these guys would come up with. The importance centred on getting the business arrangements to suit.
“We show them the shipment, and ask how much they’ll match to begin with. Then we agree on how to run the distribution lines. The cash streams we have to be tight on. Maybe we do some trial runs to start with,” said Kaplani. “Make sure our boys realise this is a friendly meet.”
“I’ve told them already, but they’ll be briefed again, boss.”
“One other thing, just in case anybody thinks we’re getting soft, make at least a couple of their dealers disappear before Ching arrives here.”
VENGEANCE WEARS BLACK (Jack Calder Crime Series #2) Page 13