“But we’re still having a chat.”
“I’m not bloody talking to you.”
“Think that’s what you said the last time we met.” Dan smiled, his upper lip curling in contempt.
“Please, don’t tell me that’s what this is all about.” Tallis let out a derisive laugh.
“You flatter yourself.” Dan’s eyes were like stone, reminding Tallis of their father.
“Moved on, have you? Repaired your wounded pride, or still playing victim? Just like you always do.”
Dan’s jaw pulsed with hatred. “Know what you are? You’re a shag-and-run merchant.”
“Still clinging to convenient lies,” Tallis scoffed.
“Always have been. Always will be.”
“I’d rather be accused of that than a wife-beater,” Tallis said, leaning forward, eyes drilling into Dan. “For the benefit of the tape,” Tallis repeated, “Dan Tallis is a wife-beater.”
The tic in his brother’s face throbbed a little faster. “You have no evidence to support that allegation.”
“You deny it?”
“Not worth a response.” There was a shifty expression in his eye that only Tallis could detect. Tallis was determined to press home his advantage. He hoped the whole fucking station would hear about his lovely elder brother.
“So what are you saying, that Belle lied?”
Dan threw back his head and laughed. “She constantly lied. About where she was, whom she was with, what she was doing. Why wouldn’t she lie about that, too?”
“Because you’ve always had a vile temper,” Tallis said, pointing to the scar on his forehead.
“Not that old chestnut again,” Dan mocked. “It was nothing more than a little high spirits. A simple childhood accident.”
“Wasn’t high spirits with Belle, though, was it? The hospital reports tell a very different story.”
“What story?” Dan said with derision.
“The story that tells the truth.”
“The truth?” Dan exploded. “Good, coming from you. Why didn’t she press charges, then?”
Tallis sat back meditatively, folding his arms, feeling the small of his back against the hard plastic of the chair. He suddenly felt totally and utterly in command. Reminded him of the day he’d confronted his father in the bus shelter, seen the fear in his eyes. “You really don’t know her, do you? And that was always your trouble, Danny boy. You neither took the time nor the trouble to find out.”
“Next you’ll be telling me you were only interested in her mind,” Dan sneered.
Tallis felt his knuckles tense. If he hadn’t been in a police station, he’d have punched his brother in the face. “You’re such an arrogant prat. You think she stayed quiet to protect you.”
“Nothing to protect me from. I didn’t hit her. Never hit her. Wouldn’t lay a finger on her.” He sounded confident but the sudden pallor of his skin told a different tale.
“I saw what you did to her,” Tallis hissed.
“All lies.”
But Tallis wasn’t letting it go. Not this time. “What kind of man hits a woman? Someone with problems, insecurities?” He thought of Demarku. “Someone who can’t get it up …”
Dan leapt from his chair, and launched himself across the table, grabbing Tallis round the throat.
“She wanted to protect Dad,” Tallis spat at him. “She didn’t want to break the heart of a dying man.”
Dan stared, frozen, his grip on Tallis tight then loosening. Seconds thudded by. For the very first time Tallis wondered how Dan would cope with their father’s inevitable death. How badly it would hit him. Finally, Dan let him go. Dusting the shoulders of his jacket, Dan stood up and pressed the eject button on the tape recorder, slipping the tape out, holding it up. “This one’s faulty,” he said, spooling out the contents and scrumpling them up in his hand. “Shame,” he said, walking out.
Instead of being questioned again, Tallis was taken back to his cell where he spent the next couple of hours asleep. Wasn’t easy. His was the only cell not filled by the latest influx of overflow prisoners from Strangeways. Shortly before six in the morning, he heard footsteps outside, a woman’s voice and the sound of jangling keys. As the lock sprang open, Cavall glided in, groomed and composed. There wasn’t a hair out of place and her make-up was perfect. Tallis bet she was one of those women who regularly rose at four in the morning to work out.
“You’re free to go.” She smiled.
“Power and influence,” he said, throwing her a quizzical look as he walked past. How the hell had she wheedled her way round this one? He thought it was supposed to be a black operation, that, in all likelihood, he would be disowned rather than rescued.
Together they collected his belongings, for which he signed. There was no sign of Dan. The only thing Tallis missed was not seeing the expression on his brother’s face at the report of his release.
As he stepped outside he thought urban air had never smelt so good.
“Sorry I can’t give you a lift,” Cavall said, indicating the car parked with its driver a hundred yards up the road.
“No problem. I’ll walk you there.”
“Chivalrous to the last.” She smiled.
Tallis returned her smile and played escort. On reaching her car, he opened the back passenger door for her. “Expect you’re waiting for a vote of thanks for getting me out of another hole.”
She turned to him, agreed with her eyes, flashed another Kodak-moment smile.
“Well, I’m not going to,” he said, pushing her in and jumping in beside her. “Tell him to drive,” he snarled.
Startled, Cavall told the driver there was a change of plan, instructing him to take a turn round the block.
“Can he hear?” Tallis said, his voice low.
“Not any more,” she said with a wintry smile, sliding the glass partition across. The driver looked into his rear-view mirror, concern on his face. Tallis beamed at him and nodded hello.
“Did you know my brother was going to descend?”
“Tallis, of course n—”
“You going to tell me what’s going on?”
“For God’s sake, Paul …”
“I’ve just killed a man.”
“What was the alternative?”
“Killing wasn’t part of the deal.”
Cavall rounded on him. “I never said it was going to be easy.”
“And you never said that people like Djorovic would die.”
“Oh, God, what is it with you and women?”
“She was a human being. She was supposed to be put on a flight home. She …” He stopped. Was she? What was really supposed to happen to these people? Christ Almighty, what had he got into? “Who are you?” he said, eyes drilling into hers. Then he suddenly remembered his very first impression of her. He’d had her down for a spook.
“I already explained,” Cavall said testily.
“Your explanation isn’t convincing enough. I want out. Now. No argument.”
Cavall clicked her tongue. “You’re being tiresome. I don’t like to point out the intricacies of your situation. I’ve done everything in my power to protect you, but …” She tailed off, let the full implication of what she was saying sink in.
“You’re blackmailing me.”
“Please, don’t be so dramatic.” She rested her hand on his arm. “One more job and it will all be over. Money in the bank. You can sell up. Go abroad, if you want to. Clean slate. And we need never meet again.”
“What about Dan?”
“What about him?” Her brown eyes levelled with his. There was something in her manner that went way beyond the question. It seemed as if she was issuing him with an invitation to confess, but to what he couldn’t fathom. They were almost back at the police station. She lifted a briefcase onto her lap, opened it, took out a file and handed it to him. It came with an ominous warning.
“Your patch,” she said.
CHAPTER TWENTY
TALLIS RETURNED
TO THE hotel, picked up his belongings and checked out. He didn’t want to shower, didn’t want to eat. There were too many crazy ideas floating round his head. He was thinking of puppetmasters and puppets. He’d taken Cavall at her word, assumed she was working with the full backing of the Home Office and the Prime Minister. Finn had confirmed her credentials, but what if they were false? What if she had another agenda? What if someone else was pulling her strings?
The journey back was horrendous, tailback after tailback on the M6. He arrived home at half past twelve. After dumping his overnight bag in the hall, he walked round the minuscule perimeters of the bungalow, examining pot plants, furniture, and light fittings. Eventually, he found what he was looking for. An electronic listening device had been placed in the handset on his phone. How very antiquated, he thought, thinking of a number of more sophisticated devices and methods of eavesdropping currently in use. He wondered how long it had been there. Taking it out, he destroyed it. For good measure, he walked outside and tossed it into next-door’s dustbin. Apart from the crudeness of the device, the easy deduction would be that security services were watching him. To what purpose exactly, he wasn’t sure. And, in any case, they were all supposed to be caught up and focused on the terrorist threat. He believed it. The intelligence service couldn’t sustain another cock-up. But what if it was Cavall, operating quite independently, who was watching him?
Next, he checked his messages. There were four, two from Micky Crow: can you get in touch type message. The second was confrontational: “We need to talk and soon.” One from Finn, the other from his mother. Finn’s was short and to the point—call me. His mother’s was loquacious. She sounded sad, Tallis thought, reminding himself of the oath he and Belle had taken. Never say anything. Never shatter his parents’ dreams. Suddenly, he was transported back to that fateful night, almost two years ago now. Ironically, he had been visiting his brother’s house on his mother’s behalf; she’d wanted him to drop by with a gift for Dan’s birthday. With his father falling ill, transport had become a problem; his dad had always insisted on doing most of the driving to the extent that his mother was no longer confident behind the wheel. Certainly, the thought of a trip to Birmingham had been out of the question for her. So Tallis had been acting as good Samaritan. It had been pouring with rain, he remembered.
Tallis rapped at the door for a second time. Rain was sheeting down, flattening his hair against his scalp, some of the moisture trickling down inside his collar. The house was in darkness save for one sickly light shining faint in the hallway. At first, deciding that they were both out, he began to return to his car when he heard a noise, a human voice, like something muffled, a sob maybe.
“Belle?” he said. “Is that you?”
This time he heard the sound more clearly. Yes, it was definitely someone crying. “Belle, it’s me, Paul.”
“Sorry, I can’t come to the door.” Her voice was so strained and quiet, he had to put his ear up right against the wood to hear her.
“Come on, it’s pissing down out here.”
“Paul, just go away.”
Go away? What the hell was going on? “I’m not going anywhere. Come on, let me in.”
“Can’t,” she gulped, weeping again.
“Surely, whatever’s wrong, it can’t be so bad,” he said gently.
More tears. Goodness, he thought, has someone died? “Is Dan there?”
The sobbing verged on the hysterical. Christ, Tallis thought, he’s left her. It was the only conclusion that seemed to make sense. “Is this about Dan?” he asked tentatively.
This time she broke down completely.
“Belle, honey, please, open the door.” He must have pleaded for at least another five minutes before she did. When he saw the half-closed eye, the swollen lip, the cuts and bruises, it was the most shocking sight he’d ever witnessed.
“How could I ever have been seduced by him?” she howled as he put his arms around her in a simple act of kindness. And that’s how it had all begun.
He’d found it easy to lie to his father. He’d never been believed by him even when he’d been telling the truth so what did it matter? His mother had been different. She knew him too well. To protect her, he’d become distant, secretive, falling into the role of guilty son, which he supposed he was if he were honest, letting her think the worst of him.
Taking his cellphone, he went outside and walked down the road to the little row of shops and found a bench to sit on, allowing the distorting clamour of city traffic to form a natural barrier to anyone trying to listen in. He phoned Crow.
“Ah, the elusive Mr Strong,” Crow said, her voice rasping. “I’ve been trying to get hold of you.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Been avoiding me, by any chance?”
“Not at all. I’ve had a family emergency to deal with.” Always good for an excuse, he thought.
A brief pause indicated that Crow was not convinced. “Our mutual friend,” she began, a sarcastic note in her voice. “Agron Demarku.”
“What about him?” Tallis said, nerves stinging.
“He was found dead.”
“How?” Tallis said. He felt no shock. An ugly picture was snapping into view. Except, of course, to Crow’s eyes, it looked as if he had been part of it—the only reason she was on the blower.
“Fell out of a bedroom window onto metal railings.”
Ouch. “That was careless of him.”
“I assure you, Mr Strong, there was nothing careless about what happened to Mr Demarku. He was most definitely pushed.”
“Where?” Tallis said, feeling slightly numb.
“Place in Camden, on my patch. I’d have come through a little sooner but I’ve been on leave. As soon as I heard, I remembered our cosy conversation down the pub, remembered your interest in the man, remembered the brothel that never was and our two famous woman-hating Croats. Oh, did I tell you, the woman they abducted died?”
His heart sank. Say as little as possible, he thought. That way she’d be less likely to trip him up.
“As I’m now handling the investigation, I’d like to interview you.”
“In what capacity?”
“In any capacity I deem fit.”
He thought about appealing to the dark side of her nature. Crow was no more a fan of Demarku than he was. She knew exactly what the man had been capable of but, like him, she was a professional. They both recognised that even bad people had rights. Demarku, care for it or not, had been a victim.
“Look, like I said, I’m simply writing about the bloke. You surely can’t think I had anything to do with his murder. It’s a matter of simple coincidence.”
Crow’s laugh was cold. “Was it also coincidence that you were seen in the area near his flat on the morning he was pushed?”
“What?”
“We have CCTV footage that proves you were there.”
“Well, maybe I was.”
“You admit it?”
“There’s nothing to admit. Yes, I was there. Yes, I saw him.”
“In his flat?”
“Yes, but it’s a stretch to suggest I was responsible for giving him the grand heave-ho. I mean, why would I do something like that?”
“You tell me, but this time we’re going to do it by the book.”
“Fine,” Tallis said, thinking, Shit. “I’ll come down to see you. Will I need a solicitor with me? I’m not under caution or anything, am I?”
“No.”
That sounded better. “Thing is, might be tricky just at the moment.”
“With your family emergency.” There was an edge to Crow’s voice that Tallis didn’t care for.
“Yes.”
“We can send a car.”
“All the way from London? I’m sure that won’t be necessary.”
“Think I’ll decide what’s necessary, Mr Strong, if you don’t mind.”
Oh, God, he thought, how was he going to explain about the name change, that he wasn’t really a jo
urnalist at all? “Yes, of course. I didn’t mean—”
“Tomorrow morning, ten o’clock. That all right?”
“Thing is …” Tallis swallowed.
“Yes?”
“The funeral’s tomorrow.”
“Oh.”
Good, he thought, that should knock the wind out of her sails. He decided to get even more creative. “My brother was an alcoholic. Years of abuse finally caught up with him. Heavy smoker as well, you see. We’ve had a terrible time, as you can imagine.”
“Yes, of course. Sorry,” she burbled. “Sorry for your loss.”
“So, if we could do this another time?”
“Day after tomorrow, then?” The edge had crept back into her voice.
Fuck, he thought. He’d hoped to buy himself more time than that. Without a choice, he politely agreed.
Tallis got straight on the phone to Cavall. He didn’t quiz her about the bug in his sitting room. He didn’t moan about the mishap with Djorovic, or the cock-up with Hussain, or the latest information on Demarku. He laid everything on the line for her.
“You want me to pull strings to prevent you meeting with Crow?”
“Can you do it?”
“This is becoming a little repetitive,” she said icily.
“Fine. I see Crow. She’ll discover my real identity, know that I’m a liar, and have me arrested. I won’t be much use to you if I’m stuck in some prison cell.”
“True.”
“We have a deal?”
“This is the last time I bail you out.”
Tallis smiled. He liked balance and right now the scales were even on both sides. She needed him as much as he needed her. Next he contacted Finn.
The Last Exile Page 18