Hider/Seeker (2 page)

‘That should make everything easier,' he said. ‘You'll feel a lot better once you start making arrangements to wire out your money.'

While the waiter cleared their plates, Harry glanced out of the steamy window and saw black cabs sailing down the dark narrow street. A big man smoking a cigar was looking at two Japanese couples hunched over a map. He was barrel-chested and wearing a Crombie. He didn't appear to be doing anything on the street, apart from smoking. One of the tourists tried to catch the man's attention to ask directions, but his wife didn't like the look of him and pulled her husband back. The man continued to puff lazy smoke into the freezing air, standing motionless between the shadows of the shops.

Harry looked back at her as she spoke.

‘I can't believe this is really happening.'

‘You'd better, because there's a lot still to do.'

The osso bucco arrived on a bed of polenta and Harry topped up the glasses. ‘From now on you're only going to use a prepaid mobile to communicate with me,' he said, ignoring her cleaning another fork in her napkin. ‘That's the first of the rules I'm going to give you tonight. The second is to change your phone every month.'

‘But I have everything on my BlackBerry,' she said, placing the napkin back on her lap.

‘Forget it. Just throw it away before you disappear from the UK. In your new life, you're going to have to get used to having a regular turnover of pre-paid mobiles. You can't leave any traces of yourself. So no contract mobiles, no regular email accounts, no holding of any accounts of any kind that can lead to you. No-nothing.'

‘I need my BlackBerry.'

‘If you can't do this, give up now because it's going to get a lot tougher. Do you understand, you're giving up everything? Everyone you know – it's part of the deal. Maybe you still need more time thinking this over before I start setting things up.'

‘You know I don't. I've been planning this too long to stop now. I'll throw my BlackBerry in the Thames tonight, if it makes you happy. I'll do everything you say. But what if I need to see you urgently?'

‘Best not. You can always call me.'

‘I don't even have an address for you.'

‘That's because I'm superstitious about clients knowing where I live.'

The man he'd seen outside in the street was standing by their table, his coat buttoned, his eyes focused on her. He looked a lot bigger, now that he was a foot away. His hair was shaved to the scalp and his complexion was as pink as the tender four-week-old lamb the old couple were eating opposite. Both arms hung at his sides, and his knuckles glistened with gold Sovereign rings. He stood there stiff with respect, the ceiling spotlight X-raying his two enormous ears. ‘Is everything all right, Mrs Linehan?' he asked, in a husky voice.

‘I thought I told you to wait outside,' she said, her tone dismissive.

He remained still like a statue while another sentence was making its way from his head to his mouth.

Angela Linehan turned to Harry and introduced him to Tucker. Harry forced a half-smile at the flappy-eared man.

‘It's just that Mr Linehan rang me and wanted to know where you were,' said Tucker finally, paying not the slightest attention to Harry.

‘What did you tell him?'

‘Like you told me. You'd gone to the gym.'

‘Why don't you fetch my coat,' she said, handing him a cloakroom ticket. ‘I won't be long.'

Harry waited for Tucker to leave, and then looked at her for an explanation. But she just continued with her meal, taking unhurried bites from her fork. She returned his stare with a gentle smile, totally unaware of the commotion brewing inside him.

He'd lost his appetite and surrendered his knife and fork on the plate. When she'd finished her last mouthful, he said, ‘What's going on?'

‘I can't stay for dessert,' she replied, ‘but we've discussed everything. Haven't we?'

‘Hold on,' he said, raising his hand to stop her going any further. ‘Who's he?' he asked, nodding in the direction of Tucker.

‘He drives Nick and when he's not driving Nick, he drives me.'

Harry shook his head in disbelief. ‘What's he doing here?'

‘There's nothing for you to get so upset about.' She began to get ready to leave the table.

‘Where do you think you're going?' he asked. ‘We're not finished yet.'

‘What do you mean?' She settled firmly back into her chair.

‘Only my clients get to see my face. No one else.'

‘Tucker barely noticed you – he's got a memory like a goldfish.' She stopped smiling when he didn't laugh, and her face began to darken. ‘You're not changing your mind?'

‘I can't go through with it now.'

‘What do you mean? I really need your help, Harry – so stop being silly about this.' Her voice had become desperate.

‘You should have thought it through before getting him to drive you over.'

‘I can't leave the house unless Tucker takes me. Why do you think I was so late? He was so insistent on driving me here.'

‘So when we met the previous week, Tucker came along too?'

She didn't reply.

‘Great,' he huffed. ‘That's precisely why this whole thing won't work. You're not up to it.'

‘But I am, Harry. I really am. Tucker isn't going to say anything. I promise.'

‘How can you be so sure? He works for your husband, doesn't he?'

‘Because I know he won't.'

‘Give me one good reason why?'

She lowered her voice and said, ‘Because he'll do anything for me.'

‘Maybe you should get him to sort out your husband then.'

‘He's not bright enough for that. Why do you think I need your help?'

‘He's seen me now and that's that.' Harry got up to leave. ‘You're going to have to find someone else.'

‘Is it the money?'

He didn't stop to reply.

Ed Parker ran an investment company from the second floor of an office block in Bishopsgate. His secretary, a stocky woman with gold bifocals, took an instant dislike to Harry wanting to see her boss without an appointment. Eyeing his shaggy hair and rumpled coat, she told him Parker was out for the day. Would he like to leave a message?

‘We both know he's behind that door,' said Harry with a boyish grin.

‘That would be quite remarkable even for Mr Parker to be in two places at once.'

‘Okay, say I'm wrong. I'm sure Ed won't mind me taking a tiny peek at his office?' he said, heading towards the door.

She stood up with a reproving look, her cheeks shading red. ‘You can't go in.'

But it was too late. Harry found Ed Parker sitting in his office with both feet on his desk, cradling a phone in the crook of his neck. Parker dropped his feet to the floor, barely containing his delight at seeing Harry's face. He signalled his secretary that she could go back to her desk, and hurried to end his call.

Parker had gone up in the world since the last time Harry had seen him more than five years ago when he worked out of scruffy offices overlooking shunting yards. The wooden panelled office with its fine furniture and gilt-framed paintings had brought him refinement.

‘My God, Harry Bridger, as I live and breathe,' said Parker, putting down the phone and getting up to shake hands.

Parker was over six foot tall and stretched his spine to be able to look Harry in the eye. His sandy hair was curly and his thin face had an expensive tan. He was sharply dressed in a blue and white striped shirt with a red tie and matching braces. His eau de cologne filled the room.

‘It whiffs of a French bordello in here,' said Harry, unbuttoning his coat.

‘I guess, you'd know.' Even his accent had become more polished. ‘For your information, the fragrance I'm wearing is from Floris,' he said. ‘I had it exclusively blended in Jermyn Street,' he added, before sitting down again on the leather chair. ‘So what do you think of my office?'

‘It beats Paddington,' said Harry, nosing around the room and its view of the wet street below, lined with double-deckers and taxis zigzagging in traffic. ‘How much is it costing you?'

‘Fifteen grand a month.'

‘You're kidding? Always was your dream to move into the Square Mile.' Harry roamed around the room for a second time, taking a keener interest in the paintings.

‘It projects the right image, don't you think?' said Parker. ‘Since I left that old poxy office, I get a more interesting clientele.' He was beginning to sound more like the boy from the Packington estate where the two of them had been brought up in North London.

His desk had a Bloomberg terminal with dual screens and was positioned at an odd angle in the corner of the room.

‘Still into Feng Shui, I see,' said Harry, nodding at the desk.

‘You know I never sit with a window behind me. A solid wall to your back guarantees a solid life. Brings positive chi.'

Harry finally sat down in front of Parker's desk and said, ‘I came over to –'

‘Save your breath, she called first thing this morning.'

‘What did she say?'

‘In between her blubs; something about giving up living.'

‘What?'

‘Harry, the woman's desperate. In her head, you were her last chance of starting over again. I'm seeing her later today to buck up her spirits; help her put things into perspective.' Parker paused for a beat and then said, ‘I'm thinking of calling up Kamran Khan. Maybe he can help her out.'

‘Seriously? KK? That old fool is fine if she wants a recycled Pakistani passport. The man's ready for pasture. He doesn't even own a computer. How's he going to teach her to fall off the grid?'

‘Well I can't leave her dangling like this.'

Harry started rubbing the back of his neck. It was a nervous habit from his schooldays when he couldn't do a sum in front of the class. It didn't help much then and it wasn't doing much for him now. So he stopped and said, ‘Did she tell you, that she came to the restaurant with her husband's driver?'

‘It was a mistake; she's really sorry,' said Parker, pleading on her behalf a little too enthusiastically for Harry's liking.

‘Wouldn't you say a BIG mistake?'

‘Give her a second chance. She's new to all of this.'

Harry sighed deeply but said nothing as he pondered his dilemma of giving up sixty thousand pounds for a few weeks' work.

Parker felt it was time to make his closing argument. ‘It won't be another McCaffity.'

‘What would you know about that?'

‘So that's what this comes down to?'

‘Damn right. I had to flee the country when that weasel told the Koreans I had their money.' Harry stared at his friend but saw nothing in his eyes that reflected any understanding of what it meant to be hunted. So he made it simple. ‘I just don't need her husband looking for me after she does her moonlight flit.'

‘How would he know about you? She told me, the driver barely looked at your face.'

‘I could be compromised any time I met up with her.'

‘But that's a risk with any client.'

Harry thought it over and nodded.

Parker continued as the tide was moving in his favour. ‘She's begging me to get you to change your mind. I don't think she's going to survive much longer, unless she leaves him soon. Do the right thing and help her.'

‘There's a kid involved,' said Harry. ‘I've never done that before. It just doesn't feel right. A father has a right to see his son grow up, don't you think?'

‘According to her, Nick Linehan isn't the sort of father a boy needs.'

‘You know him?'

‘I've heard of him. Belfast born and old enough to be her father. Runs a property business called Pertwood Developments. Does prestigious projects here and abroad.'

‘Stinking rich, then?'

‘She too. Her father apparently made a pile in timber before selling out to a conglomerate in the late seventies. Left her everything.'

‘Is that why you thought of me? Help move out her money?'

‘You know the right people who can shift that sort of cash around the world without anyone noticing.'

‘What about you?'

‘I could lose my licence. You know I don't have your type of contacts.'

Harry looked around his opulent office again and said, ‘What exactly do you do in this fancy palace of yours?'

‘I have a staff of ten; kids barely out of their pimples – managing investment trusts. I still do the old personal financial planning advice, if you're ever interested.'

‘Didn't keep any of your old clients, then?'

Parker leant forward in his seat and his hands rested on the desk, displaying gold cufflinks and a chunky diver's watch. ‘Things change.'

‘I thought you had dispensed with my services after what happened to McCaffity. All those years I didn't hear from you.'

Parker made a dismissive gesture with his hand as if trying to snatch a fly. ‘That wasn't my fault you suddenly left the country.'

‘Thanks to your Mr McCaffity. When I came back, you never returned any of my calls.'

‘Mea culpa ,' Parker nodded with guilt. ‘As I told you, things change and I stopped getting those losers coming through my door needing to do a runner. My business has gone in another direction.'

‘And then you suddenly remembered me?'

‘I thought you would be happy having something put your way again.'

Harry's face soured. ‘You make it sound like you're doing me a favour.'

‘Just forget about all that. Let bygones be bygones.'

‘I don't need anyone, particularly you, looking down your nose at me.' Harry could hear his own voice echoing in his head. He knew he was shouting because he could see Parker flapping his hands to simmer down, but he wasn't finished.

‘Who the hell do you think you are?' he snapped. ‘I don't need handouts from anyone, especially from the likes of you.'

‘Lower your voice for Chrissakes.'

Harry held his breath and he could feel his heart beat slowing again. When he'd regained his composure, he asked ‘How did she come by you?'

Parker puffed through his lips and said, ‘I was having tea with a client in Fortnum and Mason when she caught my eye at the table next to me. When my client left, she started chatting to me. She'd overheard me talking finance.'

‘So you poured her a nice cup of tea and sold her a life policy.'

‘I don't sell insurance. But I did order another pot of tea.'

‘And?'

‘She seemed impressed by what I knew of shifting funds around the world and told me she was thinking of emigrating to Suriname.'

‘Suriname?'

He nodded. ‘We started talking about the finance of a move and she really started picking my brain. Suddenly it dawned on me what she was really up to and I told her it wasn't easy to disappear off the face of the earth, just like that.'

‘Sounds like a long conversation you had with her.'

‘It was. She explained about her husband and why she had to get away with her son. I told her that if she wanted to do it right, she needed someone to fix it up for her, otherwise her husband would track her down. I said I knew what I was talking about because I'd seen desperate clients end up getting caught. The next thing I know she's asking me whether I could help.'

‘That's when I popped into your head?'

‘It's what you do for a living, isn't it? What's bugging you? You'll be doing the right thing helping her.'

‘It's just there's a lot of help for women in her position nowadays and I'm getting this feeling –'

‘Well don't. The man's a bastard of the highest order from what she says; terrorising her and her boy day and night. Treats her like a punch bag. He once held her upside down over the banisters and threatened to drop her.'

‘She say that?'

‘And more. The man's brutal, Harry.'

‘She told you more than she told me.'

‘Why do you need to know all these facts? She's scared of him and she wants out. You'd be her knight in shining armour.'

‘But why should she run away? He's the one who should be banged up.'

Parker nodded. ‘When she came a few days later to my office to get your number, I had no hesitation giving it to her, honestly Harry. You saw the state she was in?'

He had. But taking a son away from a father forever still didn't feel right.

Harry's face was setting into a blank stare as he pondered his final answer to Parker.

‘She's promised she's going to be more careful,' said Parker. ‘No more drivers; no one will find out about you.'

‘Eddie, I get the picture.'

‘What if you don't help and something happens to her? How would you feel then?'

Harry looked up at his friend, but remained silent. Conflicting instincts were always troublesome.

‘Is something else bothering you?'

‘Taking the boy away.'

‘This is about you and your father, isn't it?' said Parker. ‘Your dad was straight as a die. Someone we all looked up to. He really took care of you after your mum passed away. Everyone liked him, me included. But Nick Linehan is nothing like your dad. The man is the devil incarnate and only thinks about himself.'

Harry remained deep in thought again, allowing Parker to continue.

‘When you ran off to South America, I used to drive over to see your father.'

‘He never said.'

‘We chatted a great deal about you. He kept asking me whether the force would ever take you back.'

‘What did you tell him?'

‘I couldn't tell him the truth, could I? He only ever wanted you to be a good copper like him. Your dad always looked out for you, Harry, his whole life. Never stopped wanting the best for you.'

‘Still disappointed him, all the same.'

‘That's what sons do to dads.'

A smile crept across Harry's face. ‘Do you remember when he took the two of us camping in Spain? We drove him nuts because we always buggered off before lunch to avoid his cooking.'

‘I remember you pulling your pants down over that viper's nest.'

‘I was desperate to go. I didn't know it was there.'

‘Can still see the bites on your bum,' laughed Parker.

‘It was bloody painful.'

‘Your dad could have had a coronary, running nearly two miles in the midday sun with you on his back.'

‘Probably saved my life.'

Parker made a serpent movement with his arm, his fingers becoming a snapping jaw.

‘Stop it. I still have a phobia about them.'

‘See a shrink.'

‘I did.'

‘What did he say?'

‘Advised me to stay away from snakes.'

The arm came down and Parker turned serious again. ‘So you'll help Angela?'

‘I suppose,' he huffed. ‘I can't let her down.'

‘No you can't. You know that.'

Harry stood up to leave.

Parker got to his feet and said, ‘I'll call her straight away to let her know the good news and then the two of you can sort things out between you.' He walked Harry to the door and shook his hand. ‘Bethany will be pleased to know you haven't drunk yourself to death over all these years.'

‘How is she?' asked Harry.

‘Why don't you come around one night for a meal and see for yourself?'

Harry shook his head.

‘Why not? She's always wondering what happened to you.'

‘I've got to go.'

‘Take some advice.'

‘Huh, from you?'

‘Don't make things complicated with Angela and the boy. Promise? Just do the job. When it's all over take a long holiday and then come to see me about setting up that pension we always spoke about.'