Shadow Play (6 page)

For a week none of this occurred to me, but it all streamed into my head in the minute-and-a-half it took Faisul to jog up to my room from the reception desk. He entered unflustered, smiling as usual, confirming my worst fears: this guy was deadly. Despite the warm afternoon, he wore a golden silk scarf with yellow flowers. ‘Mr Charles, it's my fault. I gave you the wrong impression. From my nonsense the other day, you rightly thought I was a time-waster. And of course you believed that you were free to go, that there was nothing we wanted from you.
No wonder you have seemed so relaxed this last week, as if you were on holiday.'

‘I was just living my life as I usually do. I'm a freelance editor who works from home, I told you. And when I'm not busy I like to stretch my legs and take the air.'

‘Yes, I remember you said so. But don't worry, today I will not stay long, nor will I waste your time. This extra week was for the best, Mr Charles. It proves you are just the man we require.'

‘Require for what, and why do you keep saying we? Who's “we”?'

‘Don't worry, we won't be expecting you to change your profession. It's the kind of work you handle, and handle most admirably, I might add. I observed you from start to finish, and I am a great fan of your method. Not just your professional manner, but how you conduct yourself off the job. That is what has been so splendid about this past week, watching how smoothly and calmly you approach everything, how you still live such a tension-free life even after our meeting, full of parks and walks and picnics. So in that sense this time hasn't been wasted, because it only confirms how lucky we are to have found you. And that's why I keep saying we, Mr Charles. I mean, alone, I am no match for you. It took many, many people to keep up with you. In a way it was a tribute to your qualities. In my time I have never seen an operation planned on such a scale. Perhaps that's why you are a little surprised.'

‘So what do you want from me?'

‘Mr Charles, you must be aware that you are unique. I mean, I realized that on the night itself, but since then I have studied you. In the beginning I wondered, how can such a man be in
London, and that too from our part of the world, without us knowing about him? Who does he work for, what other jobs has he done? Because it was clear that you had experience. But when I went home with my story, someone suggested something and someone else said oh yes and nodded his head, and then when we saw the papers we realized whom we had encountered, and that of course you worked for nobody. I mean, I have to tell you – then I felt more afraid than I had on the night itself. I felt very lucky that you hadn't seen me, because I mean, imagine if you had. Look at yourself and look at me.'

‘What were you doing there? You were obviously hiding, and that too for a long time, otherwise I would have noticed you.'

‘That's where you have to acknowledge fate. You're right; I was waiting there, and for the very man that you disposed of. And suddenly you emerged in front of me and it was all over.'

‘So you were going to kill him.'

‘Ah, it doesn't really matter now. Maybe I would have killed him. Maybe I was only there to talk to him. Maybe I was there to receive a delivery. It's of little importance. Again, I admit at first I was very confused. I had never imagined he was dealing with someone else, or that he had such dangerous enemies. But you were not his enemy, were you, Mr Charles? Even now you don't know who he was, or do you at least look at the papers after you've done it?'

‘What if I say I knew him and had my reasons?'

‘Yes, Mr Charles, him and all the others. They were archaeologists who once worked in Egypt where they uncovered an ancient pyramid in which your ancestors happened to be buried. They lived undercover for the rest of their lives because
the tomb was cursed but you, the angry young prince who vowed revenge, are hunting them down one by one,' he said very gravely, froze for a moment, and then burst out laughing. ‘Sorry, I'm so sorry, you must forgive me. That was the plot of a movie I saw last week.'

‘Is your friend at that restaurant a part of your gang as well?'

‘Who, Shamsul? You mean the manager. He is very young. He isn't allowed to do anything yet; on a Saturday night he can barely manage the restaurant. But I am fond of him, you know. Between you and me, I have an eye on him as my son-in-law, though before that he has to grow up. Sometimes he sits in on meetings. But that day he had no idea who you were. No, Mr Charles, your identity is not for the Shamsuls of this world. You're too rare and precious for that. Even these few guys who have been following you – they think you are some small-time debtor trying to slip away without paying. We want you just as you are; we don't want anyone outside to know that we discovered you – even very few people among ourselves. But we could have learnt that from you. Your entire method consists of being unconnected, of no kind of link being possible, between motive and crime, or the murderer and his victim. You take it even further. You learn someone has seen you. How do you respond? You go for picnics. You walk around admiring houses. I don't know how you manage. I would have been in Egypt by now.' He chuckled before he continued, ‘You are a higher type, Mr Charles. You operate in complete freedom because you have found the secret of freedom. And that's the way we want you.'

‘So spell out what you want me for,' I muttered sulkily but there was no abatement in his merriness.

‘Right now for nothing, and perhaps nothing for months and months. I am happy to say we don't have such requirements all that often. But when we do, when it's essential, from now on you are our man.' Saying which, he looked at his watch. ‘Look at the time, Mr Charles, I have to dash. The first customers come through the door at six-thirty and tonight we are fully booked. So I might have to give a hand with the waiting. Did I mention, by the way, that I own the place next to the one we met in?

‘But listen, two things before I run. One, of course, you will be paid for every service: that we'll discuss later. And two, you can return home now if you like or you are free to keep moving around London. But if you leave London, you'd better note down a number where you can reach us. Because we should know if you'll be away, in case at that time we need you. So here's a card of my restaurant. It has both my mobile number and my e-mail.'

I didn't get up to escort him out. But he turned at the door and continued, ‘Actually Mr Charles, why don't you visit the restaurant anyway, just for a meal sometime? Weekday evenings are usually quieter; then I can sit down and pamper you. I know they all appear the same as you walk past them, and they all claim that
Prince
Charles' (at this, he winked and raised a finger) ‘has visited and praised them, but come into ours and let the food speak for itself. It would be my pleasure.'

‘Are you still going to have me watched?'

‘To be honest, that's not up to me and I don't know what they will decide. Perhaps things will change now that you're aware of the position. But don't let it worry you. No one either way will be told a thing. And anyway, you won't be aware of
who it is or even if there is someone, so if I were you I'd just put it out of my mind and go about things as usual. As I said, our real concern from now on is professional, in case we need you and you are not in London. So Mr Charles, go on doing what you do best; go on being a free man.'

I stood at the window to watch as he crossed the street, but he surprised me by turning around and waving. My plans had begun forming before he'd even reached the reception desk. Of course they were going to tail me. Now I had to estimate the size of their outfit. Either they were huge and had a relay system, in which there were people in every part of London who were contacted in case I was approaching their area and picked up the trail when they spotted me, or there were fewer people who took it in shifts to stay with me. Or perhaps they were so large that the relay operated on a street-by-street basis with the men behind me constantly changing, so that there was never any one person for me to become aware of. Yes, that was what must have happened, because I'd certainly tried to remain alert to the possibility of being tailed, especially during the first few days.

For the first time that afternoon I grew aware of my heartbeat. Everything had happened so fast that my mind had been racing – absorbing, sifting, calculating and racing. Now I tried to recall the conversation, to boil it down in my head so I could alight firmly upon the essentials. Which of Faisul's claims could be dismissed outright as lies? Although, he'd made fewer claims than insinuations. Well then, which of his insinuations were exaggerated, intended just to intimidate me? But he hadn't insinuated so much as hinted: actually, he hadn't even hinted, he'd just not specified anything. Beyond the fact which they were taking for granted that they were hiring me
as a professional killer, Faisul had managed to leave without clarifying anything. But who were ‘they': how had I managed not to make him answer? They could be anybody, from a large local gang to international-scale mafia, gun-runners, terrorists, dealers in drugs or women. Jesus Christ, they could be a law-enforcement agency: he could have been talking about MI6 for all I knew. Either they had decided to try me out, and if it didn't work, to pass me on to the police, or they'd cut a deal with the cops.

Consider their scale, their degree of expertise, most of all their confidence. And why just MI6 if you paused to ponder it, why not some sub-continental or Middle Eastern government? In such matters any permutation was possible. And who could be certain of how much Faisul knew: why should I even believe that he was the one who witnessed me? Maybe he was just their face. It suited them that my mind should remain confined to Brick Lane so that I didn't make any other associations.

I had to clear my head of such rubbish, none of which was actually important. In such speculation lay ruin. I had to begin from facts. First, I couldn't work for anybody; it was impossible. I couldn't do this for hire: I was sure I could never perform if any one else knew. And second, I would never figure out who they were. It would only paralyse me if I stopped to consider the scale of what had descended upon me. What were my options? I had already tried underestimating them. What was overestimation going to achieve? But it was unthinkable that I should dangle for months waiting for their call, not knowing whether they were watching me. I would have to run. Should I fetch my passport, or should I just bolt one day in the middle of the street? Suddenly the simplicity of the second plan struck me. If I took off, someone
would be forced to give chase. And even if they were working in teams posted at various street corners, the chasing would have to continue. The very fact of people running after me would confirm that I was being followed, but surprising them seemed the only way to break their dragnet. If I had my passport on me and acted fast and with sufficient unpredictability, it could be my one chance to leave the country.

It took me four days to organize myself, and in that time I had two dreams. In the first one I was assigned a job, and I watched myself beating down the subject repeatedly with a spade in the middle of a dark field, the lights of the city far beyond us. Then I buried him and headed towards the lights to report to my masters. I located Faisul at a party and shouted to him over the din that I had done it. ‘But you haven't,' he smiled, then took my hand and started walking. We passed through one crowded room after another until he pointed out the man I'd just killed, the big Turk, in a corner with a drink, chatting. ‘Go right now and make sure you finish it properly.' As I ran towards him with my knife in my hand, two men stepped up from behind him and held his arms for me so I could swing unimpeded into his stomach. I drove into him once and once again and turned around to Faisul for approval. ‘Maestro, you're losing your touch. Look carefully and ensure you have finished.' Sure enough, the Turk was still standing, but now the tables had turned. He was moving towards me; the men behind him had disappeared. I looked again to Faisul in desperation but he had already left the room. And when I started running, the Turk followed right after.

The second dream was even stranger. Immense spaceships had landed on legs as long as thirty storeys as I stood watching from the roof of a high building. The city below was already
rubble in all directions, night covered everything, and they had thrashing long whip-like arms to bring down the few buildings that remained around me. The walls crumbled like chalk but it was all peculiarly noiseless. No one else was around to be aware that the city was dying. Then the first whips struck my building. Gradually, by breaking away the edges, all they left me with was a large crumb of roof, standing on a similarly shaped section of the building. The whip seized me in its grip, lifted and turned me upside down. It slipped a plastic suit over me that fitted me perfectly and covered my face and my hands, sticking close to my skin in all places. Then they started sending bolts and charges through me. I couldn't scream because the plastic had perfectly sealed off my mouth, and I couldn't close my eyes because it was sticking to the eyeballs.

A day after I had persuaded myself to return home, I ran on Muswell Hill High Street.. At first I thought I wasn't being followed because no one began running after me. After two hundred yards I was about to slow down and reconsider when it struck me that they would have the intersections and busier streets covered. All it would require was for someone to calmly call ahead and warn their relay to expect me earlier than usual. I had no right to assume anything. The real test would be the side streets: I would have to turn into a quiet neighbourhood entirely against their expectations; only there could I expect to lose them. And I would have to do this now, because they knew I was planning to flee. So, without breaking stride I turned into a suburb and turned again, and sure enough, even though I was looking ahead, a picture emerged inside me of someone in a T-shirt and shorts beginning to run on the other pavement.