The Tattooed Man hag-2

by Alex Palmer

  ‘Sam? Careful with them. Don’t disturb them any more than you have to.’

  ‘I am being careful. Anyway, I’m almost finished. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be on your way to the bunker?’

  ‘I realised I’d forgotten my dog tag. It’s the painkillers, they’re addling my mind.’

  ‘You’ve got to hang in there for a while yet. We’re not finished by a long chalk. Where did you leave your tag?’

  ‘In the bedroom.’

  The light was switched on and Grace heard the footsteps of two people entering the room.

  ‘Is it in the wardrobe? Maybe you left it pinned to one of your jackets.’

  ‘No, the last time I took it off, I put it on the chest of drawers. But it’s not there now.’

  There was a creaking sound, as if he’d sat on the bed.

  ‘Are you okay, Danny? Are you in pain? Do you want a shot?’

  ‘I’ve had one already. Riordan gave it to me.’

  ‘You let her touch you.’

  ‘She offered and I didn’t say no. She was being kind to me, I was in some bad pain. She had a gentle touch and lovely hands. Don’t worry. It’s just a fantasy on my part.’

  ‘Enjoy it while it lasts,’ Sam said. ‘Did you tell her the story?’

  ‘In full gruesome detail. It almost got too much for me. She was a good listener.’

  ‘As long as it eases your mind, I don’t care. Did she notice the smell in here?’

  ‘If she did, she was too polite to say so. I want her to understand. Almost as soon as I started talking to her at the launch, I wanted her to know. Then today when I was talking to her, I kept thinking she made me feel almost human. The world had some colour in it for once. If I was the man I used to be, I would have asked her to have dinner with me.’

  Sam laughed. ‘You’re in love. You can’t let it distract you.’

  ‘It’s a passing dream. It’s not going to turn into anything else. Look at me. How can it? It’s something a little different for me to say good night on. It means I can pass out of consciousness in a better place in my head.’

  ‘One thing we know for sure now,’ Sam said. ‘Harrigan isn’t Elena’s little running dog. DP wouldn’t have snatched his son if he was onside. He must have said no the other day. She wouldn’t have liked that.’

  ‘She must be getting frustrated,’ Brinsmead said. ‘This isn’t proving as straightforward as she thought it would be. What do you think she wants from Harrigan? You say she already has a stooge in the police. So why put pressure on Harrigan?’

  ‘She does have a stooge. Marvin Tooth. He and DP were having a very intense conversation that morning in that car park. Harrigan must have something she wants. Freeman gave Riordan something the other day-he must have done. Something to do with Jerome’s grubby mates. Why else would his place have been turned over like that? She’s passed it on to Harrigan. Whatever it is, it’s enough to spook Elena and get her running around like a blue-arsed fly. She takes her eye off the ball, it makes it easier for us.’

  ‘You still let DP walk away. You shouldn’t have done that.’

  ‘I was only ever there on the off chance that Elena would send him after Freeman. Whatever DP did to you, Danny, he’s still just a foot soldier. His picture’s out there everywhere now. It’s only a matter of time before his name joins it. I’m going to tip off Interpol myself in the next twenty-four hours. Someone will get him. He’ll pay.’

  ‘Do you think he’ll return Harrigan’s son?’

  ‘I doubt it. It would be DP’s idea of a good joke not to. For all we know, the kid’s dead already.’

  ‘If we could find out where he was, we could let Harrigan know,’ Brinsmead said.

  ‘How are we going to do that? DP probably hasn’t even told Elena. She wouldn’t want him to. The last thing she wants is the details of what he’s doing.’

  ‘Couldn’t you work it out? You know his MO better than anyone.’

  Sam was silent for a while. ‘He’s got to be very careful where he goes,’ she said eventually. ‘His picture’s all over the place. There’s a car park not far from Redfern station-Prestige Car Parking, long and short stay. You can leave your car there for months if you want to. I’d look there. DP used to park his van there when he was doing Elena’s dirty work. I tracked him there just before he gave me the slip. He could leave his van there for days and no one would look at it. Until the smell got too bad.’

  ‘Wouldn’t he use a stolen vehicle?’

  ‘No. That’d give the police a lead. He’s got a white Toyota HiAce under the name of Robert Woods. He’s probably used that.’

  ‘Do you know the registration number?’ Brinsmead asked.

  Sam recited the letters and digits then seemed to regret it. ‘Danny, whatever else you do, you can’t ring Riordan with that information. However much you want to.’ Her voice was urgent.

  ‘How could it hurt to do that?’

  ‘Because it’ll bring the police here. They won’t stop asking questions until they know exactly where you got that information from. Then my cover could be blown. If Elena gets wind of any suspicion that I’m not who I say I am, we’re both gone. Listen to me. I’m the professional officer here. You’re the civilian operative. It’s my call. We have an operation to finish. We came here to find out what LPS is really up to and we’ve pretty well done that. If we don’t finish and report back, we’ve failed. Then more people stand to die than Harrigan’s son. You have to make these kinds of nasty decisions in this business. It’s what you signed up for.’

  ‘Why don’t we go and get the kid out ourselves?’ Brinsmead asked, his tone confrontational.

  ‘Because we’ll be picked up on the CCTV.’

  ‘Make an anonymous call. You’ve done that before today.’

  ‘No. As soon as that boy’s found, it’ll be all over the news. DP almost saw me that day in the car park with Marvin Tooth. It was enough for him to know he was being followed. He’ll join the dots and he’ll tell Elena. She’s already pretty suss about you as it is. You’ve been putting the wind up her lately. You shouldn’t do that, it’s unprofessional. We can’t risk it. There’s too much at stake.’

  ‘He’s an innocent-’

  ‘No!’

  There was silence.

  ‘Sam, why are you so sure about all this?’

  ‘I’ve told you why. This is the only way I can make a difference. One thing I said I would do in my life is make a difference. I’ve made my decision and nothing’s happened to make me change my mind. Now I’ve got to get going. I’ve got things to do. Hang on. I’ve just seen your dog tag. It’s on the floor. There you go.’

  Again there was the sound of the bed creaking.

  ‘I should get going as well. The car’s waiting downstairs,’ Brinsmead said. ‘Did you finish cleaning out the pool?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s done. I’ll leave first.’

  There was a brief pause.

  ‘Bye, Sophia,’ Brinsmead said quietly.

  ‘Don’t call me that. Sophia’s dead. I said goodbye to all that when I signed up with you. I’ll get the last of that stuff out of the bathroom and I’ll go.’ There was another silence. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m just going to lie here for a little while longer. That wasn’t a good combination, the tablets and the shot.’

  ‘You wanted her to touch you.’

  ‘I don’t want to live like this.’

  ‘Stay the course, Danny. We’ll get you there. I promise.’

  There was the sound of Sam going into the bathroom and then walking back down the hallway. ‘See you,’ she called, and the front door slammed shut. After a little while, Grace heard Brinsmead open a drawer in his bedside cabinet. She looked at her watch. The minutes ticked by and still there was no sound of him leaving, although once he went into the bathroom for a glass of water. Eventually half an hour had passed. Her feet were beginning to ache. She thought of Harrigan and Toby and decided she would walk out of the
wardrobe regardless of the outcome. Then there was the sound of the downstairs buzzer. Brinsmead got up, and after some minutes more there was the sound of the doorbell. The voices were distant. Grace stepped out of the wardrobe to hear them.

  ‘-waiting for you for over an hour, Dr Brinsmead. Do you still want the car?’

  ‘My painkillers immobilised me. I couldn’t move very easily. I’ll meet the cost. I just have to get something. Please wait, I’ll be down soon. Leave the door open.’

  He came back to the bedroom. It was still almost another ten minutes before he left the penthouse. Finally, there was the sound of the front door being shut.

  Grace waited for a few minutes more before leaving the wardrobe. The small photograph album she had seen in the drawer was lying face down on the bed. She picked it up. It wasn’t open at any of the pictures of Brinsmead and Elena Calvo but at the black and white photograph at the end, of the couple and their child in the ruined city.

  The apartment was silent and empty, the bathroom door left open and the lights turned off. All the cages were gone and whatever had been inside the steel cabinet had been emptied out.

  Grace took out her mobile phone and rang Harrigan. She didn’t even get his voicemail, only a message saying the caller wasn’t answering. She tried Trevor. No response there either. She thought of who else she might ring but decided it would be too hard to explain to anyone else. If they were going to find Toby alive, she couldn’t waste time convincing people that her information was reliable. She rang for a taxi as an emergency and headed for the door.

  It hadn’t been deadlocked. Maybe Brinsmead’s mind was so clouded he’d forgotten to do it. She returned the key to the drawer before leaving. Outside, she quickly checked the swimming pool, climbing over the low fence to get inside the enclosure. Looking down into its blue-painted expanse, she saw empty plant trays, both wide and deep, covering the pool floor. Nothing remained of what might have been growing in them except for scraps of dirt and a scattering of unidentifiable plant matter. She climbed back over the fence.

  Suddenly, she needed a cigarette badly. The smell of those tiny, dead animals was still with her. Anything to wipe that stink away. On the street, she smoked while she waited for the taxi to arrive. It was getting on to peak hour. Finally it was there.

  ‘Are you the lady who ran for a taxi to police headquarters?’ the driver said. ‘I can’t take you there, the streets are closed off. There’s been a disturbance of some kind.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I can’t tell you. It’s just happened. It’s complete mayhem up there. Now’s the time to rob a bank. They’re all looking the other way.’

  ‘This is urgent and official business. Get me as close as you can.’

  ‘I’m telling you, you can’t get in there. All the streets are blocked off.’

  ‘Do you know a long-stay car park not far from Redfern station called Prestige Car Parking?’ Grace asked.

  ‘Yeah, I know that.’

  ‘Get me there then, as soon as you can.’

  They were away, jerking in and out of the traffic. Grace called Harrigan again but there was still no answer. Were the phones out? Was he preoccupied? Or was he some kind of a casualty?

  As they approached the city, the taxi driver avoided the area near police headquarters. The traffic was heavy. Grace saw fire engines racing through the cross streets but put any speculation of what might have happened out of her thoughts. One step at a time, she told herself, her mind on Toby.

  23

  Leaving Millennium, the traffic was bad. Harrigan barely made it to police headquarters in time for his meeting. When he walked into the commissioner’s office, he found the commissioner, Marvin and Trevor sitting in a strained silence, not looking at each other. His arrival punctured the tension noticeably. It was a relief to know the minister had also not yet arrived. He and Marvin looked at each other but neither spoke.

  ‘Paul. Good afternoon,’ the commissioner said. ‘I understand you’ve had no calls.’

  ‘No, no one’s contacted me.’

  ‘I want you to know I’ve authorised all resources in the search for Toby. We’ll do everything we can to find your son.’

  It was a rare expression of concern from the commissioner.

  ‘Thank you,’ Harrigan replied.

  ‘Information for you, boss,’ Trevor said, passing over a photograph. ‘We found it on page 228 of the dossier. Recognise him? We’ve put a copy up on the board and added a few bruises just for you.’

  ‘That’s the man who wanted to rearrange my face. Who is he?’

  ‘Andreas du Plessis. Born in Johannesburg thirty-nine years ago. Ex-South African army. He worked for their special forces under apartheid. The South African government’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission want to talk to him about the torture and death of detainees in his custody but so far they haven’t been able to get hold of him. He’s been on the books of a private military services company called Griffin Enterprises for a number of years. They provide security for corporations operating in dangerous environments such as theatres of war. He’s had a long association with Beck. We’ve got a face and now a name. We’ll get him.’

  Before anyone could speak, Chloe knocked on the door.

  ‘The minister rang to say he’ll be at the front entrance in about five minutes. Who do you want to escort him up?’

  ‘Harrigan will want to do that,’ Marvin said.

  ‘Yeah, I’ll go,’ Harrigan replied. ‘Why is he coming in that way? He’d have been safer coming in through the car park.’

  ‘Marvin made the arrangements for today’s meeting,’ the commissioner said.

  ‘I don’t see how anyone can be in danger coming in through our front door,’ Marvin replied heatedly. ‘Why don’t you take your inspector with you as well, Harrigan? Bolster the party.’

  ‘Jesus,’ Trevor said softly.

  ‘This is a business meeting, Marvin. Behave yourself,’ the commissioner snapped.

  Harrigan was too tense to be troubled by Marvin’s ego. ‘There’s no point in the two of us going down. I’ll go and meet him.’

  He walked out. He’d just got out of the lift on the ground floor and was walking through to the foyer when he heard high heels clattering behind him.

  ‘Commander,’ a woman called. ‘I heard you were here. Then Chloe said you’d gone down in the lift. Could you wait, please? I have to get your signature.’

  Harrigan turned to see Mandy, a tiny, black-haired spark of a woman from finance whose height was increased in inches by her shoes. She ran towards him dressed in a tight leather skirt and bright gold shirt. He held up his hands to protect himself.

  ‘Mandy, I don’t have the time. I have to meet a government minister. I’ll ring you when I’m finished.’

  He walked on into the wide foyer, towards the security checkpoints. She came after him, her needle-point heels clicking on the floor. She overtook him and brought him to a sudden stop.

  ‘Adam says I have to get your signature. It’s about the door.’

  Adam was her boss, an old-school manager well known for getting a kick out of making her life as miserable as possible.

  ‘What door?’

  ‘Your people broke down a door. They said you told them to. Adam says he won’t pay for a new one unless you sign the authorisation yourself. Could you just sign it and I promise I’ll go away?’

  Through the glass entranceway, Harrigan saw the minister’s car pull up outside. The front door opened and his adviser stepped out, carrying a thick folder and a laptop. Harrigan had the awful vision of escorting the minister through the building with Mandy’s heels rattling along behind them.

  ‘Where do I sign?’

  ‘Just there.’

  Harrigan took the document, a financial form, and scrawled his name across it. He saw the minister get out of the back seat and join his adviser. They were sharing a brief conversation. He should already have been with them.

&nbs
p; ‘Tell your arsehole of a boss I’m going to come and talk to him just as soon as I get the time.’

  ‘I’d love someone to do that,’ Mandy said, as an all-engulfing roar smashed forwards into the glass front doors. Harrigan saw flames encompass the two figures standing beside the minister’s car and then the car itself. Instantaneously, the power of the explosion tore through the security guards’ stations, knocking them and the guards down and throwing everyone else in the foyer, Harrigan and Mandy included, to the floor. The noise roared in their ears and dust, broken glass and debris filled the air, creating an artificial darkness. The building alarms began to shriek piercingly and the sprinklers came on. Water bucketed down, soaking everyone. Mandy curled up on the floor, screaming. Other cries could be heard, including from people who had been injured. The foyer seemed to have filled with shouting, panicking people.

  Harrigan scrambled to his feet. What had once been whole lay in ruins around them. Outside, the car was burning. The dead were not so much dead as destroyed. Harrigan’s mechanical side took over, the way it always did under this kind of pressure. He became what he was often accused of being: unfeeling, driven. A machine with that original ghost inside who watched his movements while he organised everything as calmly as if they were only retrieving stolen plasma screens or laptops. He took out his phone and rang Trevor.

  ‘Boss, what’s going on? The alarms have started ringing.’

  ‘Tell God we’ve just had a political assassination. I think something the minister’s adviser was carrying has just blown up. Edwards and his adviser are dead and possibly other people as well. The security guards here are injured, and the minister’s car is burning. Where’s Marvin?’

  ‘In his office. He walked out after you did, he said he’d forgotten something. Why?’

  ‘Brief the commissioner. Tell him I’ll find him when I’ve sorted something out.’

  The building’s own emergency fire-control team had appeared, racing for the burning car. Harrigan heard sirens outside on the street. He left Mandy to the care of whoever found her first and ran. Sirens were screeching throughout the building, signalling the evacuation of all staff. All lifts would stop on the next floor they came to and immobilise as soon as the doors were opened. He ran up the fire stairs, dripping water, passing people coming down who stared at him. He ran into Marvin’s office. Sharon gaped at him. She was collecting her bags to leave.