Out Of The Red

by David Bradwell

  “This reminds me of Geneva,” she said. “Although we’re missing Anna for the full reunion. What’s this about a date, by the way?”

  “You know about that as well?”

  “You told me in your email.”

  “Of course, sorry.”

  “So, is it serious?”

  “Oh, God knows. She was out again last night.”

  “Wow, she’s keen. What do you know about him?”

  “Not a lot. They met on the tube, which is weird in itself because she hates the tube.”

  “Do you want me to look into it for you? Make him go away?”

  “What? Not if you mean what I think you mean.”

  “I just mean find out a bit about him and see what he’s hiding. Everyone’s hiding something.”

  “Still no, but thank you. Jesus. You know what? I don’t know whether to be scared stiff or just bloody glad you’re on my side.”

  “Told you, I care about you.”

  “Well, that’s very much appreciated, but Anna is Anna and whatever will be will be. I’m not going to pretend I’m happy about it but there’s nobody else to blame. If I’ve fucked up I’m just going to have to live with it.”

  “But you make the perfect couple.”

  Danny looked to the ceiling, just long enough to try to conceal his emotions.

  “It’s kind of you to say. We just know each other too well, I think. You and I made the perfect partnership at work, and look what happened to that. Anyway, back to the point. How long are you in London for?”

  “Long enough.”

  “And will you disappear again?”

  “I’ve already answered that.”

  “You did. Try not to, though.”

  “Oh Danny, will you miss me?”

  “You know I will. I idolised you.”

  “I know, you said, and it was deeply flattering. I’m really nothing special.”

  Now it was Danny’s turn to laugh.

  “I’m not, though,” she continued. “I’m just observant, and thorough. I analyse things. I don’t have magical powers.”

  “Right.”

  “I don’t! Well, maybe a few. But it’s just hard work and a bit of lateral thinking.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Good. Tell me where you’re up to and we can compare notes.”

  Danny began, explaining how he’d started investigating March, and found links to criminal gangs from eastern Europe working out of Cologne. He booted up his notebook computer and showed her documents and photographic evidence he’d compiled, with timelines and interviews, both on and off the record, from sources he’d been nurturing for the last few months.

  He explained about how March had called him. About their meetings, the mention of the homeless shelter, and the assumption that it was being used as a shield or front for the trafficking operation. About following him from the massage parlour to the casino, his involvement with the band, Steve’s death and the assault on Leah. His own trip to the parlour and subsequent eviction. His conversations with Amy and the pressure that was seemingly being exerted by the Government for a cover-up. And the deadline of the following day.

  “You’ve been very thorough, but all in all, a bit of a mess then?” said Clare when he’d finished.

  “Not so much a mess as a giant jigsaw. Most of the pieces are there but just with a few still missing. And I’m still not sure of the bigger picture.”

  “That’s good.”

  “What? That there’s so much missing?”

  “No, I was talking about the metaphor.”

  Clare sat back, looking thoughtful.

  “I expect you knew all of that already,” said Danny eventually.

  She shook her head.

  “No, not all of it. You’ve done well. There are a few things that obviously stand out.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as you’re never going to make the deadline tomorrow.”

  “Cheers for that.”

  “Have a word with Mike and I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  “Are you taking the piss?”

  “Haha. Maybe. That’s the one thing I don’t miss. But seriously, ring him at least. I think you’re close but it’s evolving. There’s not a chance of getting it all wrapped up today, though.”

  “I’ll look forward to that this afternoon, then.”

  Clare took a sip of her tea.

  “The other thing that’s missing from Geneva is the champagne,” she said. “I’m sure I could find a bottle, but let’s keep it for when we’ve got something to celebrate. I’ll tell you what I know, and then we can see where the gaps are, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “The trafficking links are definite. He’s been seen out there. And he’s been mixing with some very bad people.”

  “I know.”

  “Just be careful, though, Danny, these aren’t your ordinary British villains. These are seriously nasty, violent and dangerous bastards. They’ve got different values entirely. They make me look like an angel.”

  Danny reached for his cup. It was easy to forget she had blood on her hands. That the person in front of him, with her generous smile, intelligent eyes, and impeccable clothing was capable of acts of intense ruthlessness in the pursuit of self-interest. She could be dangerous. Just being in her company could be dangerous. There was so much he didn’t know about her, about how she worked, and about what she’d been through in recent years. Was she even sane? Aristotle said no great mind has ever existed without a touch of madness, and it was hard to argue.

  “I agree, the homeless shelter sounds iffy,” she continued. “I’ll look into that. And I don’t know much about this Seb person, but if the Government are wanting to brush things under the carpet to protect the reputation of the Met, they’re going to need a bloody big brush and an even bigger carpet.”

  “What about the massage parlour? I won’t ask how you knew I’d been there.”

  “It wasn’t hard. I watched you go in.”

  “You did what?”

  She smirked.

  “Oh come on, don’t act surprised. I’ve got to keep an eye on you.”

  “Shit. I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.”

  Clare leaned forward and rested her hand on his knee.

  “Danny, listen to me. I’ve come to terms with what I did before. You know what? I did it after a lot of thought and a lot of planning, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. All of it. But I do regret absolutely some of the things that happened to you in the process. And Anna, of course. I do regret putting you in danger, and I genuinely lose sleep at night worrying that I was anything other than completely straight with you.”

  Danny sighed.

  “Oh, but Clare. Why? You were brilliant. You were perfect.”

  “I wasn’t. That was just your opinion of me because I suppose, if I’m honest, something in me inspired you. But everyone has their faults, Danny. Me particularly.”

  He started to protest but she waved it away.

  “But listen, that was the past. I’ve told you. Nothing can change it. It’s done. Just know I’ll never do that to you again. I’m not going to pretend I’ve changed but I have learned a few things about myself along the way, and I’ve learned what it’s like to feel absolutely isolated, cut off from everything and everybody. But that was my choice so I’m not complaining.”

  “It’s got to be tough, though.”

  “Tougher than you’d believe. But I also know what’s important to me. I had to give up everything. My flat, my job, my friends, relationships, everything.”

  “So you did have a boyfriend then?”

  “Haha, and again you assume. I’m not going there. But you, Danny. You are important to me. You’re a good guy. I won’t let you down again. And rule 1c: let’s never mention this again.”

  Danny smiled.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll try.”

  “Make sure you do. I’d hate to have to shoo
t you.” She paused. “And that was another joke, by the way.”

  Danny wasn’t so sure.

  * * *

  “How’s it going?” Samuel Elmhirst-Banks had woken early, and was at his desk in the Norman Shaw South building by 7am. He’d spent the morning fretting. No news wasn’t necessarily good news. Eventually he’d gone down to the riverbank to make a call.

  “Slow in some respects, but surprisingly well in others.” Her voice was quiet, as though she was also nervous of being overheard.

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning I’m getting close to sorting it. It came pretty near to disaster as well, but don’t worry. I’m speeding it up now.”

  “Christ. I don’t want to know. Time’s running out. You do realise that?”

  “I do. I’m managing the situation.”

  “And the shipment?”

  “Confirmed. Late Sunday.”

  “But nobody’s talking about it?”

  “Not as far as I’ve come across.”

  “Thank fuck. At least that’s something. Right, redouble efforts.”

  “You don’t need to tell me. I’m very much aware.”

  “I know you are. But we need to get there first. Get me the details. Everything.”

  “You’re panicking.”

  “Do you blame me? Fucking March is a liability and if I don’t control this I’m as good as dead. I’ve got to stand in front of the bloody Home Secretary this afternoon. Try doing that if everything’s turning to shit.”

  “You’re so dramatic.”

  “I don’t know if you get this.”

  “I do. It’s your job, your reputation. Your career in Government.”

  “Exactly.”

  “We’ll sort it. Don’t worry.”

  “I wish I had your confidence.”

  “You should do. I’ll be in touch.”

  The call ended. He looked at his phone as though it might bite him. It was time to start thinking about a contingency plan in case this all got out of hand. His brief was simple, but the fear of failure was beginning to overwhelm his confidence in those he usually relied on. It was time to tackle March head on.

  24

  I’VE been making a few enquiries about the massage parlour,” Clare continued, lighting a cigarette.

  “I didn’t think you were supposed to smoke in here,” said Danny.

  “I’m not. But hey, force of habit. It helps me think.”

  “You do know that’s a myth?”

  She gave him a look of bemusement.

  “Get me an ashtray from the kitchen, would you? Wall cupboard next to the sink.”

  Danny left the room, returning a moment later.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “So, the parlour?”

  “Yes. It’s run by a hard bastard called Mikołaj Gawlinski. He’s from Poland.”

  “I think I met him.”

  She shook her head.

  “No, that would have been his muscle man, Tomasz Dulinski. You did well to come out with your limbs intact. He’d shoot his own mother, just for something to do.”

  “Jesus. And something tells me this time you’re not joking?”

  “Sadly not.”

  “Brilliant.”

  “Danny, do me a favour. Don’t go anywhere near the place, okay?”

  Danny frowned.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “Nothing. It’s just, oh I don’t know.”

  “Just what?”

  “Aurelia. She knows something. I just think it would be good to see her again, to find out what happened.”

  “Ooh, do I detect the first stirrings of romance?”

  “What? No, of course not.”

  “Now Anna’s got a boyfriend you’ve lost your heart to a hooker?”

  “For heaven’s sake.”

  “I’m teasing. But whatever she knows, it’s not worth getting killed over, okay?”

  “Agreed.”

  “But I have given her your number and asked her to call you.”

  Danny laughed.

  “What the fuck? How on earth have you done that?”

  “I think that comes under the terms of rule 1a. Just hope that she does. She seemed less than keen on the idea. God knows what would happen to the poor girl if they caught her talking to you. It doesn’t even bear thinking about.”

  “Indeed. But seriously, how did you manage that?”

  “Danny?”

  “What?”

  “I wasn’t joking about the rules. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He sighed. It wasn’t going to be easy.

  “Thank you,” he said. “However you’ve done it.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Clare stubbed out her cigarette then walked through to the kitchen to wash her hands.

  “Are we agreed we’re assuming the parlour’s involved in the trafficking too?” she called through the open doorway.

  “It makes sense if it’s not too obvious.”

  “Good. Although what have I told you about assuming things?” She walked back into the living room and retook her seat.

  “Not to.”

  “Genau.”

  “Ge-what?”

  “Sorry. I lapsed into German. I meant ‘exactly’.”

  “So are you living in Germany now?”

  “Danny?” She raised two fingers and pointed them at him, making a clicking sound like a gun being cocked.

  He raised both hands in mock surrender.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “You’re forgiven. Just. But yes, don’t ever make assumptions unless you’re willing to challenge them, revisit them and turn them inside out.”

  “But it does make sense.”

  “From where we’re looking, agreed. You said you followed March to a casino?”

  “Just off Berkeley Square. I don’t know how long he was there for but it was at least an hour. We had to leave to go to meet Leah.”

  “And the name of the casino?”

  “Albermarle. I think the full title was Albermarle Casino and Gentleman’s Club.”

  “That figures. So, strippers and gambling. He’s a classy guy. What do you know about it?”

  “Not a lot yet. The whole Leah and Holly thing took precedence yesterday.”

  “Okay.”

  Clare started to smile. Danny noticed, and then realisation hit.

  “Go on then,” he said.

  “I thought you weren’t going to ask. It’s run by a woman called Jacqueline Glover. On the face of it, she’s a respectable businesswoman, which is an achievement given the nature of her business. Late forties, looks older, dresses in animal print and too much gold but probably thinks it looks sophisticated.”

  “Do people still do that?”

  “Apparently.”

  “Okay, that’s on the face of it. But there’s more?”

  “Of course. Would it be really bad if I had another fag?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ah well.” She lit one anyway.

  “So, Jacqueline Glover?” continued Danny.

  “Bear with me.”

  Clare took her phone from the pocket of her coat and dialled a number. She listened for a few moments then ended the call.

  “Wrong number?” asked Danny.

  “Answering service. Don’t worry, I’m back with you.”

  “Sure?”

  “Yes. Okay, so Jacqueline Glover. Never married, owns properties, significantly wealthy but hard as nails. What do you get in casinos?”

  “Roulette tables? Blackjack?”

  “Cash, Danny. Lots of it. There are rumours that she’s been involved in a bit of laundering, and March used to be on the payroll until his untimely expulsion from the Force, so we can probably assume, for want of a better phrase, he was being paid to turn a blind eye.”

  “That figures.”

  “Have you turned American all of a sudden?”

  “No, sorry. That makes sense. Better?”


  “Much.”

  “I’d say ‘awesome’ but you probably would shoot me.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” She raised the fingers again. Danny laughed.

  “I promise never to say that again.”

  “Glad to hear it. We don’t joke about the English language. Let’s get back to being serious for a moment and I can decide what to do with you later.”

  “Okay.”

  “So, she’s not exactly squeaky clean, but that’s just the casino. We mustn’t forget the Gentleman’s Club.”

  Danny clicked his fingers.

  “Yes!” he said. “Could that be a front for prostitution? In which case, she’d maybe be interested in some of the girls coming over too?”

  “That’s what I’m thinking. So that explains why March is visiting. He’s like a glorified salesman. Not that there’s particularly any glory in it.”

  “It all makes sense, though.”

  “But there’s one thing we’re missing.”

  “Which is?”

  “Old Jacqui isn’t without her enemies for obvious reasons. She fended off a hostile takeover of the business a couple of years ago, and by hostile I mean in the most literal sense. She’s also been known to have to do the odd bit of debt collection. Which means?”

  “Presumably she’s got help. Minders?”

  “Correct. I’ve managed to get names of two: Finn Convey and Logan McDonagh. They’re both Irish. Convey’s from Dublin. He’s the right-hand man and enforcer, typical kind of wouldn’t-want-to-meet-in-a-dark-alley merchant. McDonagh’s from just outside Cork. He’s supposedly more intelligent but he sounds a nasty bastard too. I wouldn’t suggest messing with either.”

  “Christ. March knows how to choose his friends.”

  “It’s a dangerous business, Danny. All of it. Which is why you need me, keeping an eye on things.”

  “And again, I’m not going to ask how you manage to do that.”

  “Good, you’re learning. Anyway, the point is, Convey’s been keeping tabs on March, following him. Presumably reporting back. No doubt McDonagh’s out there too, doing much the same. Either way, if the girls are coming in on Sunday, things are going to be hotting up over the next couple of days. And let’s just hope that Mikołaj and Jacqueline can sort things out between them in terms of who gets who, or it could be an almighty bloodbath.”