by Parker Bilal
‘Then what?’
‘I’ve seen death before. I grew up around it. I knew what I had to do. I had to find them and make them pay.’
‘So you followed them back to London?’
‘I followed them to a place in Southall, a meat factory.’
‘You got a job there.’
Darius lifted his chin. ‘That was later. That was when I found her.’
‘You mean, you found her head?’
‘They had kept it. I don’t know why.’
Drake had an idea. ‘They wanted it because they were planning to use it against Goran.’
‘I don’t understand. He was one of Goran’s men.’
‘There’s a group of them,’ said Drake. ‘They had decided to take him out, to take control of his operation. In the end they got rid of him.’
‘Then why keep her?’
‘Who knows? Maybe it was forgotten, maybe it was a war trophy.’
Darius was quiet for a long time, then he looked up. ‘None of this would have happened if not for you.’ He pointed a finger. ‘You’re the reason she was there. The reason she betrayed Goran. The reason she was killed.’
‘I told you, she wanted out. I was helping her.’
Darius gave a cynical laugh. ‘Yeah, right. Tell yourself that. Maybe it helps you to sleep.’
His voice had become slow, leaden, heavy with gravity. Drake realised he was looking at a man who had driven over the cliff edge of his own sanity. He had stopped making sense of the world a long time ago.
‘If you know who killed her, then help me bring him to justice.’
‘Justice?’ Darius laughed. His eyes flashed. Drake saw his hand tighten around the knife. ‘What is justice? I don’t care about them. They are animals. The world is full of people like that. But you? She trusted you, remember? You betrayed her. Loyalty, now that is something we can all agree on. It’s the worst kind of betrayal.’
‘She wanted to help.’ Drake started to explain again. Darius wasn’t having it. He grabbed Drake by the collar and pressed the knife to his throat.
‘What do you care about in this world? That little boy? What if I was to cut his throat in front of you? Would you know how I feel then?’
‘Look, Darius. I know how you feel, but hurting that boy is not going to help.’
‘You care about the boy? Why? He’s not your son.’
‘He’s done nothing wrong. He’s just a boy, like you were, like I was. You want to hurt me, I understand, but let him go.’
‘I know what this world is like.’ Darius broke off to wipe the tears from his face. ‘You’re right, he’s like me. All the pain, all the suffering. I wish someone had put me out of my misery all those years ago.’
‘You don’t mean that.’
‘Yes,’ hissed Darius. ‘It’s better for him to die now.’
Drake didn’t like the way his tone had changed. In the distance he caught the chop of helicopter rotors chugging up the river. An executive heading home at the end of a long day, or something else?
‘Listen? You hear that? They’re tracking my phone. We don’t have much time.’
‘We don’t need time.’ Darius thrust Drake back and reached under the kitchen sink for a small rucksack. With his eyes on Drake he unzipped it and reached inside to withdraw a hand grenade. With a gesture he threw the bag at Drake, who had to catch it. He looked inside. There were about a dozen of them, enough to blow this whole ship to pieces and all of them with it. Darius held up the grenade.
‘You were in the army. You know how these things work.’ He gestured. ‘Go and fetch the boy. Leave the bag there.’
Drake turned to go back down the stairs to the lower deck and then stopped.
‘You know, you don’t have to do this. Together we could go after the man who killed her.’
Darius sniffed, wiped the back of his hand across his eyes again. ‘That will never happen and you know it. They have protection. They always have protection.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘I know it.’ Darius studied the grenade in his hand. ‘I’ve been living with this pain for years, for as long as I can remember. I just want it to be over.’
Drake reached the hatchway and stepped through. He turned around to look back at Darius. In the glass of the window behind him he caught the glimpse of a narrow pencil beam of red light. A laser sight. Darius took his hesitation as delay.
‘Get a move on!’ He raised the grenade high.
‘No, don’t do that!’ Drake yelled, but he was too late.
Three shots shattered the glass, sending Darius flying forwards. Staying low, Drake crawled over to him. He was still alive. The front of his sweatshirt was soaked in blood. He was gasping for air and not getting any. His lungs were punctured.
‘Hold on,’ Drake said, pressing a hand on the largest of the wounds.
There was blood on his face. His lips moved. Drake leaned in close but no words came. Then he felt the life go out of him and it was all over.
55
The Moonstone was quiet at that hour. It was mid-morning when Drake pushed open the stained-glass door and surveyed the calm interior. He didn’t see Crane at first. She was sitting over in the far corner, concealed behind the high wooden panels of a booth with her sunglasses on.
‘Mind if I join you?’ he asked, slipping round the other side of the table.
‘How are you doing?’ she asked.
‘I’ve had better days. You look as though you haven’t slept.’
‘I haven’t.’ Crane slipped off the sunglasses. ‘It was a long night. By the time the police got out there and everything was processed. Yeah,’ she sighed. ‘A long night.’
‘So Howeida was an undercover agent?’
‘Who knew? Apparently they had been trying to make a case against Novo Elysium for years. This was Abdelhadi’s pet project.’
‘And he used his cousin as bait?’
‘I’m guessing he didn’t have much of a choice. They’re part of a ruling class. Everyone’s related. The fact that she was his cousin is almost coincidental. The point is she believed in what she was doing.’
‘So the meeting with Foulkes was planned?’
‘They went to a number of readings before she caught his attention.’ Crane gave a deep sigh. ‘She was determined. I’ll give her that.’
‘And she paid the price.’
‘The way he tells it, he was torn between hanging back or moving in. He didn’t want to blow it for her.’
Drake was looking around for someone behind the bar. ‘So Foulkes really thought we would fall for the idea that she had been abducted and whisked back home?’
‘He took us for a soft touch.’
‘That’ll teach him. She was already dead by then. He knew that sooner or later someone would come looking for her. But why not go straight to the police?’
‘I don’t think he wanted to risk it. It was too soon,’ said Crane. ‘He was buying time. The whole story about them not being interested. In the end he would have gone to them, I suppose, when she was safely under the concrete floor of the greenhouse and he could tout us as an example of how concerned he was.’
Finally, Drake spotted a woman behind the bar. Just as he was about to go over a group of tourists stumbled in, their large rucksacks thumping against the door. He slumped back down.
‘How about you?’ Crane asked.
‘I’m only sorry I couldn’t save Darius. After all he’d been through.’
‘That’s your emotional response. You’re still trying to save Zelda.’ Crane saw the look on Drake’s face and raised a hand in apology. ‘Sorry, but he did kill that young man, remember? He was no angel.’
‘There are no angels or demons,’ said Drake. ‘Just a lot of people struggling between good and evil.’
‘Amen to that.’
‘There are still a few loose ends.’ Drake traced a fingernail over the scarred surface of the table. ‘Darius wanted to avenge his mother, I
get that. He followed them back to London, to Southall. He took his time, got a job at the meat plant and then found out where the head was being kept.’
‘Why was it being stored? I mean, wasn’t that risky?’
‘I’m guessing it was insurance. The men who got rid of the body didn’t trust their partner.’
‘The one who killed her.’
‘She had to know her killer. It was someone she trusted.’
‘Darius thought it was you. That’s why he put the head on the train with your blood and the newspaper article. But why. Why did he think it was you?’
Drake lifted his eyes from the table. ‘Because he’d seen me with the killer.’
Crane leaned back. ‘You know who it is?’
Drake nodded. ‘If it’s who I think it is, then there’s a problem.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, for starters, he saved my life.’
Crane took a moment. ‘You’re talking about the war now.’
In his heart Drake knew it. He’d known it the moment Darius had described the man he’d seen outside Zelda’s place in Brighton.
‘So what about Khan and Hamid Balushi?’
‘They’re all part of it. I think it goes even further. Some kind of internal coup that involved taking out Goran. Zelda just got caught up in the middle.’
‘Why her?’
‘I’m guessing that some of what she knew would have hurt not only Goran but some of his rivals.’
‘So where is he now, this person?’
‘Brodie? I don’t know. He’s disappeared.’ Drake sighed. ‘I’ve known him for years, Ray.’
‘He’s a hit man. A hired gun.’
Drake nodded. ‘He’s been around the world. Africa, the Middle East, South America.’
‘Jesus.’
‘Yeah, I wouldn’t put that past him either.’
‘So now what?’
Drake looked at her. ‘This is bigger than a case. I mean, this is personal.’
‘I’m not sure that’s a good thing.’
‘I’m still not sure how this relates to Donny. If Brodie was working for him, or for someone else. Despite all his pleas of innocence, at the end of the day it might come back to him.’
‘So we go after Donny.’
‘You don’t just go after someone like Donny. You have to make sure you’re three steps ahead of him, always.’
‘Okay.’
Drake looked at her. He still wasn’t really sure he understood what made her tick. But right now he wouldn’t have picked anyone else to have by his side.
‘Okay,’ he repeated, coming out of his reverie. ‘Okay.’
Then he looked back towards the bar. ‘What do you have to do to get a drink around here?’
Acknowledgements
By some strange coincidence or constellation of fate this intermediate book in what I think of as the opening Crane and Drake trilogy (written under the sign of Dante’s Purgatory), turned out to mark my own transition from one publishing house to another.
So, in order to acknowledge the old and the new, I would like to start by thanking Susie Nicklin at The Indigo Press, along with Alex Spears, Sue Amaradivakara, and Becke Parker.
At my new home, my thanks go to Jamie Byng and everyone I have had the pleasure of working with at Canongate and Severn House: Kate Lyall Grant along with Vicki Rutherford, Leila Cruickshank, Debs Warner, Sara Porter and Aa’Ishah Hawton.
Thanks also to Euan Thorneycroft and his team at A.M. Heath including Jessica Sinyor, Vickie Dillon, Prema Raj and Alexandra McNicoll.
Thanks to everyone for their support and hard work, and apologies to anyone I’ve managed to leave out.
Finally, a debt is owed to Ellah Wakatama Allfrey, the mystic empress guiding these planetary motions: gratitude and respect.