Shadow State

by DEREK THOMPSON

  Thomas zeroed in on a parking space and spotted DS Edwards. He tooted his horn and woke Karl from the dead. Edwards caught up and waited patiently as Thomas parallel parked with infinite — and according to Karl, anally retentive — care.

  “Good weekend, Karen?”

  “Not so’s you’d notice. The body has been IDed as Theo Pritchard. His granddaughter is coming down to see me later today. She’d reported him missing when he hadn’t been in touch after forty-eight hours. Needless to say, apart from logging it on the system, my colleagues at Enfield hadn’t looked into it.”

  Thomas could see it bothered her, which impressed him. They all went in together and straight up to the canteen, where he bought her a coffee. While they were sitting at the table, with Karl hunched over his caffeine kick-starter, Thomas made a proposal.

  “Listen, Karen, when you speak to the granddaughter it wouldn’t hurt to tell her a white lie — that Theo had helped provide information about the vehicles, once he realised the business was bent. It’s kinder, don’t you think, than letting her find out he was knowingly working for a crime syndicate?”

  She snapped to attention. “Why do you call it that?”

  “Seems to me that stealing high-end cars and shipping them off requires planning and finance. I’d call that a syndicate, wouldn’t you?”

  Karen returned to her coffee. “Maybe. Just don’t let my DI hear you talk like that. He’s still pissed off about the possibility of a connection with Arlo Moretti. Mr Moretti is a successful businessman and a philanthropic pillar of the community, apparently. Anyway, I’d better go and face the flak again. If you’re both very good I’ll pop in at lunchtime.”

  Karl perked up by the time they reached the information room. Thomas set up the software and divided the stack of DVDs. At a rough guess it would take several hours to get through the Automatic Number Plate Recognition recordings to try and isolate driver images from the stolen vehicles.

  * * *

  “You know what, Tommo?”

  Thomas clicked the pause button and looked over expectantly.

  “You did a good thing this morning, restoring the reputation of Theo Pritchard.”

  “Yeah, well, it doesn’t hurt anyone . . .” He let the sentence go before he reached the part about still feeling responsible for Theo’s execution. “Do you think I should ring Heick and set up another meeting?”

  “Makes sense.” Karl arched his shoulder blades over the back of his chair. “Try and see him soon though because Henriette’s coming to town.”

  Thomas opened his hands, inviting Karl to share. For some reason Thomas couldn’t fathom, Karl wasn’t happy about it.

  “Data, Tommo. It all comes down to data. We’re looking for drivers — that’s data. Henriette Voclain books a flight to the UK in her own name — more data. It used to be that the trick was getting information. Now it’s about sifting a sea of information for gold and then making something of it.”

  While they were taking a quick break Thomas texted Heick, asking for another meeting. When he was done, he did some more sifting.

  “Why do you really think DI Ferguson won’t go near Moretti?”

  Karl swivelled side to side in his chair. “You tell me, Tommy Boy.”

  “Moretti probably has friends in high places. Isn’t that how the Shadow State works?”

  Karl’s face turned to granite. “I can see you’re bemused by the rules, but never lose sight of what’s at stake here. A shipment of stolen cars and a few kilos of cocaine are the tip of the iceberg. They're just revenue streams.” He shifted position. “Think about all you've experienced these past three years — you've seen what goes on. Right at the top, these faceless power brokers are after one thing: dominion over a new Europe. Charlemagne is an incredible opportunity to inflict some damage against the Shadow State.”

  Thomas picked him up on a point “And you know their names?”

  Karl laughed. “Me? Not exactly. I could hazard a good guess about some of them though.” He see-sawed his hand in the air. “However, believing something is not the same as proving it. Which brings this interlude neatly back to Mr Moretti.”

  Thomas couldn’t tell if it was the three hours of screen time or the conversation, but his head was throbbing. “When are we lunching?”

  Karl broke a chocolate bar in two and chucked half across. “May as well wait for Edwards. What’s your tally?”

  Thomas killed the screensaver and checked his list. “Eleven images of varied quality — three of the poor bastard who took the baby and other, unknown faces. Incidentally, what happens when the vehicles are moved on?”

  “Not our problem. Well, not unless Christine Gerard says so.”

  DS Edwards arrived at twelve-thirty, which was fortunate as Karl was awake again by then. She’d brought fresh coffees and sandwiches in cellophane.

  “The DI allowed me to canonise Theo Pritchard when I saw his granddaughter. Ferguson told me afterwards that the information Pritchard gave us matched the data you recently added to HOLMES2, so full marks for that. Theo didn’t have any previous record. He seems to have lived a blameless life, apart from a misunderstanding with a Slovakian traveller — a mix up with their cases — a few months back. Poor sod. All it takes is one bad choice, eh? So, what’s the progress, chaps?”

  Thomas reeled off the numbers, pausing to catch Karl’s eye. He’d heard it too — Slovakia, where Barbara Leibowicz’s husband had been during her car theft. Edwards repeated her thanks and left them to it.

  “We got it wrong.” Karl stopped talking to answer his phone.

  Thomas’s phone joined it in a duet and they each moved to a separate corner of the room.

  “It’s Stephen Heick. Come up to my office after work. I’ll wait.”

  Chapter 29

  Karl had remained tight-lipped about his phone call. Only now, as he dropped Thomas outside the ASI building, did he venture an opinion. “I’m starting to wonder if this whole car ring is bollocks.”

  Thomas would have engaged with Karl’s insightful commentary, only he didn’t want to keep Heick waiting.

  “I’ll see you back at Liverpool Street.”

  “Seriously? In the office?”

  “Yeah, why not. I’m sure Christine will be pleased to see us.”

  “I’ll try to match your parking skills.”

  * * *

  Heick was waiting in the lobby. Thomas figured someone had phoned up as soon as he stepped out of the car. Heick kept to a handful of words until they reached his office.

  “I had to release Moretti — it wasn’t my decision.”

  Thomas mentally ran through the implications. Moretti knew where Caliban’s was and where Thomas lived. He breathed rhythmically, forcing his lungs to obey him and not the hammering in his chest. It was a short fight.

  “Where is he?”

  “Gone to ground.” Heick raised his hands, arms outstretched. “I’ve contained him, made him aware of the consequences if he bothers you again.”

  “Bothers?” Thomas felt the red mist descending. “He shot up my girlfriend’s pub and tried to burn me out.” He could see Heick wasn’t going to budge so he pulled out a notepad. “All right, let’s get down to business.”

  Heick’s jaw slackened in relief. For about five seconds.

  “ . . . Because the terms of our agreement have changed a little.”

  Half an hour later, Thomas had more information and less understanding. He took a detour along Threadneedle Street to walk it off, past the Bank of England and three hundred years of history and privilege. He lingered there, oblivious to the rain that spattered the pavements and the commuters who scurried for cover, as disparate ideas fell into place.

  1) Henriette Voclain was coming to London in a few days. Heick had always known this, which explained his strong-arm tactics. Ergo, Heick must have planned an escape route too.

  2) Heick hadn’t given a shit about Moretti before, so either Moretti cut a deal with him, or had since pro
ved to be useful in some other way. This was not good news.

  3) He and Karl needed a plan, and fast.

  4) And this was the biggest migraine candidate. The Leibowiczs, Moretti and the late Theo Pritchard all linked back to Slovakia — why? Scratch that, it didn’t matter. Something for Karl to chew over. He was asking the wrong question. What mattered wasn’t why the Leibowiczs wanted to use Shadow State money, but why they couldn’t have got it anywhere else. Pharmaceuticals. One word that meant a lot of different things.

  * * *

  Thomas wasn’t surprised to find Karl, Christine and Ann together around a table in the office. He waited for Karl to say his piece in public, so he knew what was up for general discussion. Moretti was on everybody’s radar now. And there was more. The Leibowiczs had gone missing.

  Christine shook her head. “You should have come to me earlier with this, Karl. We’re on the same side, remember?”

  “I wasn’t aware that Arlo Moretti was anything more than a small cog in the machine.”

  Thomas’s eyes widened. This was a rare admission.

  “Of course you weren’t,” Christine acknowledged. “And that’s why we need to work as a team and pool our resources.”

  Thomas waited to see if Karl planned on pooling the Heick situation. It didn’t happen. Or perhaps they’d agreed not to discuss it in front of him. He’d barely sat down when his shiny new phone started ringing. He took it as read that no one would object. After all, they worked as a team, didn’t they?

  “It’s me.” Miranda struggled for breath. “You better get over here. Jack Langton’s been shot.”

  Chapter 30

  Thomas drove and Karl did his thinking aloud.

  “We have to assume Moretti’s responsible, or . . .”

  Thomas waited it out.

  “ . . . We have a much bigger problem on our hands.”

  “Well, what’s worse than being shot by a known scumbag?”

  Karl rubbed at his nose. “Being shot by an unknown scumbag. Chances are, Moretti wanted revenge for Jacko’s visit to his apartment.”

  Thomas gripped the steering wheel. “Miranda and Caliban’s . . .”

  “No, no,” Karl insisted. “Heick would have given him an ultimatum — you’ll all be on the protection list. If Heick has let Moretti go, you can be certain there’s a purposeful connection there now.”

  The lights were off at Caliban’s — no neon welcome today. Karl hadn’t finished talking as they got out of the car and he stopped Thomas by the door.

  “Listen, Tommo, Jack Langton is useful to my organisation.”

  “You mean he’s providing intel about his international supply lines.”

  “True, but it’s not just that. His house is bugged, as you well recall. We can’t afford to lose him or destabilise his business — not yet.”

  Thomas pushed past him. So Jack Langton was a commodity himself now — another route into the Shadow State from the lower levels. No matter that he was a dealer and a thug, as long as he served his purpose. Thomas steeled himself for Karl to say the three words he despised: the greater good. Maybe Karl was more intuitive than he gave him credit for, this one time.

  “Are we going in, Tommo, or what?”

  Or what seemed to be the order of the day, as the doors were locked. Thomas gave a half-hearted wave to the camera at the side door, imagining Sheryl watching him. He counted the seconds until he heard footsteps on the other side of the door.

  She didn’t speak and that surprised him. It was fast turning into a day of surprises. He couldn’t figure out if it was the shock news of the shooting or misplaced loyalty for the secret dad who’d once used her home to package up some of his drugs for resale.

  Even Miranda seemed subdued. She draped herself around him for a second before disengaging and pulling down the shutters.

  “Mum and Dad want you to go over tonight — you too, Karl, if you’re free. They think you ought to see Natalie, or at least talk to her. We can leave now.”

  He didn’t bother taking his coat off. It didn’t sound like it was up for discussion. At times like this it was hard to tell which parent she took after. Miranda grabbed her coat and bag from behind the bar.

  “You coming to Mum and Dad’s then?”

  Thomas caught a glimmer of Karl’s face and made his choice. “Nah, we’ll see Natalie first. Meet you later.”

  “Suit yourself.” She stayed out of kissing range as she passed him.

  * * *

  Back on the road and heading northeast from Bow to Forest Gate, bumper to bumper, felt like a punishment. A mere four and a half miles on the map meant sod all to the mass of commuters surging out of London with them.

  “Thanks,” was all Karl said for the first ten minutes.

  It was no great surprise that Heick rang while they were stuck in traffic. In Thomas’s experience bad luck was like buses — like the one in front that blocked the view, actually. Heick was succinct.

  “ASI building. Eight-thirty. Tomorrow. Alone.” Heick cut the call.

  Karl lowered the window, as if to let the spectre of Heick drift free. “What a charmer. You can see why my ma fell for him.”

  Thomas changed tack. “Any tips for tomorrow?”

  Karl leaned forward and rolled his shoulders. “Only one. Watch your back.”

  * * *

  Thomas spotted one of Jack Langton’s muscle from the raid on Moretti’s apartment. The bloke looked like he’d take a few seconds to squeeze out of the car parked outside, but God help you when he did. They traded nods and the big guy lent to one side to whisper unsubtly into a walkie-talkie. He must have received instructions because he gestured for Thomas to come over.

  “Nat’s inside — and so are the police. You can go in.”

  Karl arrived a few steps behind Thomas.

  “Cops are here — family liaison I s’pose.”

  Karl followed him up to the door. “Don’t be so sure.”

  Thomas wasn’t in the mood to play twenty questions so he ignored him and rang the bell. Although he hadn’t expected Natalie Langton to answer it herself, he hadn’t expected to see one of Heick’s people on the other side either — the same woman who’d confiscated his ID card at Liverpool Street.

  He could tell she was flummoxed, but she was also a pro and recovered in a handful of seconds. He counted them out and waited for her.

  “You better come inside.” She drew the door back.

  “Thomas Bladen,” he proffered a hand. “I’m a friend of Jack’s. And this is Karl — he’s a friend of mine.”

  She didn’t take up the offer so they walked in.

  “I’m Augustine,” she called after them as she closed the door.

  Natalie was out in the conservatory. She flicked her eyes at him momentarily and then returned to staring at her feet. As he stood over her he could hear the children in a nearby room, and then an older voice trying to quieten them. A grandparent, probably.

  “What happened, Natalie?” He figured he’d start big and then narrow it down, depending upon what she chose to tell him.

  “You want a drink? I’m having one.”

  She got up and walked back to the kitchen. The bottle was waiting on the counter. Thomas was surprised he hadn’t noticed it coming in. He had noticed other things though. Augustine appeared to be there on her tod, if you didn’t count Lurch out front in the car, and he reasoned that he was more for show and to keep the family onside. Where were the police then?

  Natalie returned with a tall glass, parading it in front of her like a religious procession. He held his tongue until she’d sat down again and taken her medicine.

  “Where’s Jack now?” It was an open question and the leading candidates were hospital and morgue.

  Augustine cleared her throat. “Mr Langton is in a private facility — for his protection.”

  “They won’t let me see him.” Natalie teetered on the edge of her drink and then dived in again.

  “He’s receiving
the best care available.” Augustine’s tone suggested they’d been over this a few times. “As soon as the doctors say he’s well enough . . .”

  Thomas leaned across and touched Natalie’s hand with his fingertips. “What can I do to help, Nat?”

  “Can you speak to them? I know you’ve helped us out once already . . .”

  Augustine looked up sharply.

  “ . . . But I don’t know who else I can turn to, what with Ray still missing.”

  Thomas held his nerve and rode it out. Jack Langton’s second-in-command, Ray Daniels, was missing all right — missing a pulse. Not that Natalie would ever learn that. He could see Karl rolling his eyes. Another tale from the dark side that Thomas wouldn’t forget in a hurry.

  “I’ll see what I can do. Leave it with me.”

  Karl stood up. “Perhaps Augustine has a contact number?”

  She had, but she didn’t look very happy about it. On the way out Karl stopped at the door and glanced up the stairs.

  “They can come down now.” He tapped Augustine’s card against the doorframe and then left Thomas to follow in his wake.

  Karl looked sullen in the car.

  “Problem?” Thomas started the engine.

  “Another one, you mean? I was just wondering how long it will take them to find the bugs we put in the house.”

  Thomas headed towards Ilford, for a bit of variety, so he could pick up the North Circular Road and travel on to Dagenham. He glanced at the clock. Hopefully there’d be something to eat when they got there.

  He checked the rear-view mirror again. “Anyway, Karl, why would Heick’s people want to sweep Jack Langton’s home for surveillance?”

  Karl was a second behind him. “That’s easy, Tommo — same reason he’s in a private facility.” He made speech marks with his fingers, the same way Christine Gerrard had done once and they’d never forgotten it. “They’re protecting what is undoubtedly now one of their assets.”

  “Hmm . . . I sense a custody battle.”

  “Or there’s always the wisdom of Solomon — we simply cut him in half.”