‘Hello, my son,’ Kennedy crooned, pulling up a chair and taking Billy’s stiffened hand. ‘It’s your old dad.’
Billy groaned unintelligibly, eyes flickering, irises rolling upwards, nearly disappearing.
‘That’s right. Look, I’ve brought Tallis to see you. Remember, he came before. I told you all about him. He’s come to look after us.’ Kennedy turned to Tallis and nodded a smile. Tallis, acutely uncomfortable, smiled back. Kennedy leant over his son, running a hand over his boy’s sweating brow. His mouth was close to Billy’s face. ‘Sam sends her love as always and Liss sends her big brother a kiss.’
Billy began to rock. His groans grew louder.
‘See.’ Kennedy turned to Tallis. ‘He’s smart, my boy. He knows what’s going on.’
Tallis flashed another nervous smile. He didn’t like hospitals at the best of times, but this whole encounter was deeply upsetting. He couldn’t understand why Kennedy wanted him there. What was he trying to prove?
Kennedy turned back to Billy. ‘Got a joke for you, son. He likes jokes,’ Kennedy told Tallis with a grin. ‘There were these three mice down the pub, having a few drinks, larging it up, showing off to each other, they were. Anyway, one mouse says to the other, “Guess what, went home last night, found this nice hunk of cheese in a mousetrap right outside my front door. Know what, I snaffled that piece of Cheddar right out of the trap, sweet as you like. How’s that for skill and daring?” So this other mouse, he says, “That’s nothing. I went out on the town last night, did two lines of rat poison and I’m still squeaking.” Then there’s this other mouse, a little mouse, and he doesn’t know what to say. See, he’s modest, in a different league to his mates. Know what he says, Billy?’
Billy let out a groan that sent a metallic shiver down Tallis’s spine.
‘The little mouse says it’s time he got off home because it’s his night to shag the cat.’ Kennedy burst into a roar of laughter so infectious Tallis found himself laughing, too.
At last, Kennedy pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes. Next he told Billy about the problem he’d had with the Rotunda. ‘Made a first-class job of it,’ Kennedy said. ‘Same people who developed Fort Dunlop. Always said it was ripe for improvement, didn’t you, son?
‘Remember me telling you about all that glass,’ Kennedy prattled on. ‘They’ve got seventy-two panes on each floor, seventeen floors encircled by glass bands.’
Suddenly Billy let out an ear-shrieking howl, filling the room with what Tallis could only describe as fear. Billy’s wasted body thrashed alarmingly beneath the bedclothes. Kennedy got up, caught hold of his son, yelling at Tallis to press the alarm. At once nurses and doctors were running from all directions. Tallis shrank back, heading for the corridor. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a doctor administer an injection. Thirty minutes later Kennedy emerged, the emotional drain on his features evident.
‘Billy’s asleep. Come on,’ he said. ‘I want to go home.’
The weather had taken a terrible turn. Rain pelted down like straight-edged needles, lancing the ground. Sky, dark and brooding, echoed with the sound of distant thunder. It had all the ingredients for flash floods.
Tallis and Kennedy made a dash for the TT and threw themselves inside.
‘Does he often have turns like that?’ Tallis said, starting the car and pulling out onto the road, almost skidding on a lake of surface water.
‘Only when he’s upset.’
Tallis wondered what had triggered the outburst. He was going to ask but Kennedy’s posture signalled the matter closed.
Tallis decided to vary the route by driving through the urban industrial maze of Cradley and Halesowen then picking up the M5 heading south before turning off and connecting to the M42, a road sometimes beset with heavy traffic and roadworks. Within five minutes of taking off he noticed Charlie Lavender’s bike aquaplaning several cars’ distance away. He switched on radio communication.
‘Papa, Romeo, radio check.’
‘Romeo, okay over,’ Charlie’s voice sounded.
‘Papa, okay out.’
He drove in silence for the next couple of miles. The noisy combination of wipers scooting back and forth across the windscreen, rain hammering on the roof, concentration stretched to the limit meant he could hardly hear his own thoughts. The conditions were quite atrocious. Virtually impossible to see further than the car in front, Tallis kept his hands steady, foot off the brake, light touch on the accelerator, eye flicking to the rear-view mirror. That’s when he saw it.
‘Don’t look round,’ he told Kennedy. ‘We’ve got company.’
Volvos didn’t normally excite him, but the dark blue car behind was an S60, second generation, sporty in looks and performance with plenty of grip and terrific for long-distance journeys. The driver was white, his companion riding shotgun black. Both wore baseball caps, the brims pulled down hard over their faces. In spite of the drab light, they wore sunglasses. Tallis knew Volvos were often used as unmarked police cars. If this was one of them, they were in trouble.
Kennedy glanced into his side-mirror. ‘You sure? Look like a couple of dealers to me.’
‘One way to find out,’ Tallis said. ‘Papa to Romeo receiving,’ he said, taking care not to dip his head and alert his pursuers.
‘Romeo, go ahead,’ Charlie’s voice came back.
‘We have company, over. Dark blue Volvo.’
‘Roger that. Touch red.’
Tallis tapped his brake pedal lightly, the bright glow indicating not only where he was but where the Volvo was.
‘Romeo received. Moving up. Registration, wait,’ she said, pausing before reeling off the Volvo’s number using the phonetic alphabet. ‘Two males in car. Over.’
‘Am going to lose them. Do not pursue.’
‘Say again.’
‘Do not pursue. Over.’
Pulling out abruptly into the outside lane, Tallis floored it, plumes of water spraying from the sudden increase in traction. Sure enough, the Volvo skated out, lights blazing through a shield of grey. Fuck, Tallis thought, watching as the Yamaha exploded into the outside lane, briefly fishtailing as it skidded on the wet tarmac. Lavender either hadn’t heard or was disobeying orders. Memories of Roz and Sean bolted through his brain.
Rain slashed the ground, surface water everywhere. Visibility was down to no more than three hundred metres, the lights of oncoming vehicles gauzy and indistinct. Tallis urged the TT forward, ninety miles an hour, ninety-five, -six, -seven…
Still the car was in pursuit. Without indicating, Tallis changed lanes, zipping into the middle then right over to the slow lane, dropping down the gears then speeding back up, pulling out in front of a lorry on the underside, the result an angry blast of horn and air brakes.
‘Sorry, mate,’ Tallis muttered, pleased that his actions had mixed things up nicely, but it wasn’t long before the Volvo was back in business.
‘We don’t want those bastards following us to Shakenbrook,’ Kennedy spat, twisting round.
‘Don’t worry. There’s only one of them,’ Tallis said, glancing anxiously in his rear-view mirror for sight of Lavender. Must have fallen back, he thought, ignoring the crease of alarm in his stomach at the sight of an ambulance and two police patrol cars heading off in the opposite direction, sirens screaming. Whatever had happened, they’d lost radio contact.
He was really flying now, the speedo pushing one hundred and twenty, one hundred and twenty-three, -four, -five…
He tried every manoeuvre he knew, but nothing shook off the tail. These guys were good, professional. If anything, the weather seemed to be working in their favour. Most of the time he was driving blind. He was setting the pace. All they had to do was keep up. At junction five, Tallis veered off for Solihull, no indicator, expertly dropping down a gear, tightly controlling the car. Still the Volvo kept pace even as he headed for the town centre.
‘What the fuck you doing?’ Kennedy said, hands gripping his thighs.
�
�Trust me. This is where the fun begins.’
They were in leafy suburbia, the outer reaches of town. Without warning, Tallis stuck his foot down, cut up a Saab, whose driver promptly gave chase, the Volvo having no choice but to drop in one car behind. For two streets, the Saab drove bumper to bumper, the driver mouthing and throwing hand gestures like he had a bad case of Tourette’s.
‘Now we’re fucked,’ Kennedy said as they approached traffic lights changing to red.
‘Don’t think so,’ Tallis said, flooring it, leaving the Saab standing then watching in horrified amazement as the Volvo pulled out, weaving in and out of oncoming traffic until it, too, was safely over the other side.
Only one ace left to play, Tallis thought, spotting a multi-storey car park. He turned in, grabbed a ticket, went through the barrier then, feeling the muscles of his sphincter pinch, stuck his foot down, tearing up the levels, travelling helter-skelter, up three, down two, up one, the TT’s tyres screaming, until finally he reversed into a space and waited. Sure enough, the Volvo showed, flying up to the next level. Out of sight, Tallis slipped out of the space and down the other side, shooting out of a cordoned-off staff exit with the same tight trajectory of a bullet from a gun.
The Volvo was nowhere to be seen.
‘That’s screwed them,’ Kennedy growled.
Tallis hoped so, but for how long he couldn’t say.
‘You worried me back there,’ Kennedy murmured as they were pulling into Shakenbrook.
‘What, a big tough guy like you?’ Tallis laughed.
‘Thought you were going to lead those bastards here.’
‘If they’re as serious as I think, they already know where you live.’
‘No way. House is in Sam’s mother’s maiden name.’
A bit circuitous, still traceable, Tallis thought, especially if you’re the CIA. ‘Whatever, I think it best we keep a low profile until the meet in London. You cool with that?’
‘Suits me. The businesses can largely take care of themselves.’
‘It’s not just you. This includes Samantha and Melissa.’
Kennedy’s nostrils pinched together. His mouth formed a frown. ‘Sam won’t be happy, especially with Melissa missing school. Neither will the school, come to think of it.’
Made Tallis smile. The man who entertained no qualms about killing was reluctant to offend a head teacher. ‘It would only be for a week or so, until things have died down.’
‘What makes you say that?’ Kennedy sounded edgy.
‘What?’
‘You said a week or so. You expecting something to happen?’
‘I wasn’t being literal,’ Tallis said. ‘I meant for as long as it takes.’
Once they were back home, Kennedy went upstairs to shower and change. Tallis elected to go to the control room. From there, he phoned Lavender, relief flooding through him as she picked up the call.
‘You’re all right?’
‘Soaked through but safe.’
‘Christ, you had me worried.’
‘Didn’t know you cared.’
Tallis swallowed. ‘I—’
‘Who were those guys?’ Lavender scooted in, much to Tallis’s relief.
‘No idea.’ The Yanks again, he thought.
‘I’ve run a vehicle check and come up empty.’
That could mean one of two things. Either they were using false plates or fake vehicle licensing papers. ‘Managed to shake them off for now, at least.’
‘Are you going to tell Asim?’
‘When I get around to it.’ He didn’t want to go running to the boss every time something out of the ordinary took place. He informed Lavender that he intended for them to lie low until the trip to London, that he would call soon.
‘Think something big is about to go down?’
‘According to Kennedy, no.’
‘You don’t believe him?’
‘It’s not that. I’m simply not sure how much he can control events, how much power he actually has.’
‘Thank God, at least, Ahmed’s under surveillance.’
Tallis murmured agreement and cut the call. Afterwards, he stood for an hour checking and rechecking the screens, half expecting to pick up their pursuers on one of the monitors. Giving orders to one of Kennedy’s men to watch for intruders, he returned upstairs to the drawing room, where he found Samantha looking out of the window. She turned as he entered, and smiled. Beneath the perma-tan he thought she looked pale. He knew better than to say so. Good-looking women were most easily offended.
‘You won’t see much out there,’ he commented. ‘Weather’s terrible.’
‘I like rain. Makes me feel protected.’
He inclined his head. ‘You don’t feel safe?’
‘Only when you’re around.’
Her eyes met his. In other circumstances, he might have viewed it as the beginning of a chat-up line. In other circumstances, he might have been tempted to take advantage. For a brief moment he felt entirely thrown by her blue-eyed gaze. It was then that he wondered how much she knew of Kennedy’s defection, how much or, more likely, how little she’d been consulted, or her feelings been considered, how much she recognised the dangers not simply for herself but for her daughter. Kennedy, alone, had been the main man, Sam and Melissa relegated to the role of bit-players, subordinates in a deadly and dangerous game.
‘Well, you’re stuck with me, then.’ He laughed lightly, breaking the tension.
‘Drink?’ She smiled.
‘Tonic water would be good.’
‘Ice and slice?’
‘Why not?’ Thank God for small, familiar rituals, he thought, watching her open the drinks cabinet. The moment had obviously passed.
‘You realise,’ she said, handing him the glass, ‘the difference you’ve made to our lives.’ Oh, dear, Tallis thought, he’d been hopelessly over-optimistic. ‘Johnny’s in particular,’ she continued, sitting down, indicating for Tallis to join her. ‘Before you came along, he was much more closed down about Billy. It was as if his son was a taboo subject. He didn’t welcome discussion. He’s much more relaxed now, thanks to you.’
Tallis was about to protest, but Samantha was in full flow. ‘You see, Johnny and Billy hadn’t always got on.’
‘No?’ This was interesting, Tallis thought, settling back into the sofa.
‘Billy had experienced problems trying to find work. He reckoned he was dismissed from at least two architects’ offices when they discovered who his father was and got wind of his criminal connections. For a while nobody would touch him. It led to a lot of argument. Of course, I was stuck in the middle.’
‘Never an easy place to be,’ Tallis said, mind tumbling. Were Kennedy’s strong feelings for his son based on guilt?
‘Things eventually began to work themselves out when Johnny was inside and then there was the accident.’
‘I heard Johnny took it very badly.’
‘What father wouldn’t?’ Samantha said. ‘It was a difficult and worrying period for all of us. I’d never seen my husband like it before. He was absolutely inconsolable. God help me, but at the time I wondered whether it would have been almost better had Billy died.’
Tallis sipped his drink. He knew exactly what she meant. ‘Who arranged for Billy’s care? Must have been tricky with Johnny inside.’
‘I did. Don’t think I slept for the first week, but I knew it was vital to act quickly and get the best treatment money could buy. It’s what Johnny would have wanted, what he would have done. He always wanted the best for Billy.’ To the exclusion of everyone else, even his own wife and daughter? Tallis wondered. ‘Strange really, I feel guilty for all those bad feelings I had at the time, for feeling so hopeless. I’m glad Billy’s still with us. It’s somehow given Johnny the chance to catch up for the years he was inside, to make amends, I suppose,’ she said uncertainly, glancing away. ‘He really is a terrific father,’ she said, turning back towards him, bringing her little finger to her mouth and biting
the corner.
‘You don’t need to persuade me. I’ve seen how he is with Billy. And Melissa,’ he added hastily.
She flashed a grateful smile. ‘With you here, like I said, he’s much more comfortable, more at ease.’
‘It’s very kind of you, but you credit me with too much. I can think of a far more credible reason.’
Samantha’s mouth fell slightly open. Her eyebrows formed little arrowheads. It was as if she’d failed to persuade him of something she needed convincing of herself.
‘Time,’ Tallis said.
‘Talking of which,’ Kennedy said, his footfall soft on the thick carpet, ‘isn’t it about time we ate? I’m starving.’
Tallis glanced at Samantha, saw the colour drain from her face. For a taboo that was supposed to have been broken, she was immensely cagey.
Dinner was convivial enough. There was no business talk. Tallis felt grateful. While it was important to stay focused, to be utterly prepared for the critically important meeting on Friday, it was equally important to keep Kennedy calm. The conversation revolved around Melissa, Kennedy’s love of football, countries he’d like to visit, including Croatia. This was Tallis’s cue for talking about his grandmother’s homeland. When Samantha briefly left the room, Tallis took the opportunity to ask Kennedy if he was all right with the current arrangements.
‘Sure,’ Kennedy said. ‘Everything’s just cool.’
Good, Tallis thought.
It was after midnight. Tallis was sitting in the summerhouse, the only place as far as he could deduce that was consistently and reliably bug-proof. He was talking on the phone to Lavender. He’d told her about Billy’s dramatic turn in the hospital and how the doctors had been forced to sedate him. He also told her about his hunch. Lavender seemed unimpressed.
‘You don’t think Billy’s key?’ he said, at last.
‘No, I don’t.’
Tallis let out a sigh. Maybe he’d got it wrong. His gut feeling was strong yet entirely inexplicable. He couldn’t rule out the simple fact that his feelings were misplaced. That’s what happened when you entered the sphere of a man like Kennedy. ‘All right, I bow to your superior judgement.’
The Mephisto Threat Page 27