Tango One (44 page)

“The heroin,” said Fullerton.

“What happened to the heroin?”

“It's exactly where it's supposed to be,” said Donovan.

“Three thousand kilos is in Germany with our Turkish friends. Five hundred kilos is being driven up to Scotland to keep the smack heads in Edinburgh and Glasgow happy for the next six months or so. Another thousand kilos should be on the Holyhead ferry heading for Dublin. PM's got his, the Turks have got theirs, the price of a wrap in London is probably going to fall twenty per cent, but if the dealers are smart they'll hold back the bulk of it, ease it on to the market.”

“But the plane was empty,” said Warren.

“Of course it was,” said Donovan.

“The Russians, their job is to get supplies into out-of-the-way places, places where there aren't mile-long runways. How do you think they do that, Bunny? You can't just land a fifty-metre four-engined jet plane on the side of a hill.”

“Parachutes,” whispered Fullerton.

“They dropped the gear.”

“Precision-guided offset aerial parachute delivery, is what they call it,” said Donovan.

“They can drop almost two thousand kilos from thirty thousand feet and land it to within three hundred feet of their target. The parachute has an airborne guidance unit and it homes in on a transmitter on the ground. They dropped two chutes over Germany and three about fifty miles east of the airfield.”

“You bastard,” said Fullerton.

“You set us all up. The business at the airfield, you knew the plane was coming in empty.”

“I wanted to see what Hathaway would do,” said Donovan.

“The deal was that he gave me you and let me bring the gear in. Seems like he thought he could have it both ways: get to keep my money and put me behind bars for twenty years. Oh yes, and have you three killed into the bargain. He'd be free and clear.”

Jordan walked over.

“Are we going to do it, Den? Are we going to off them?”

“I'm thinking about it, Ricky.”

“You can't kill us,” said Fullerton.

“We're cops.”

“That's the thing, Jamie. Are you? Are you really cops? Or are you grasses? There's a difference.”

“We work for the Met.”

Warren nodded.

“We're cops.”

“You're cops if Hathaway stuck to whatever bargain it is that he offered you, but he doesn't seem to be a man of his word, does he?” He gestured at the video recorder.

“Do you want me to play it again for you?”

“We're on the Met's payroll,” said Fullerton.

“We get a salary. Promotions. Shit, we even get overtime.”

“I'm not saying you haven't been paid your thirty pieces of silver, Jamie. I'm just questioning whether or not Hathaway actually put you on their payroll. And if he did, maybe he's covered his tracks. Wouldn't take much to delete all reference to you from the computers.”

“Let's off' em said Jordan in his Liverpudlian whine. They fucked over the Mexico deal, didn't they?”

“Jamie, did, yeah. Hathaway showed me an e-mail he sent. Bunny didn't know about it and nor did Louise.” Donovan nodded at Tina.

“Or is it Tina? Which do you prefer?”

“Either,” said Tina.

“My mother called me Louise.”

“Tina, Louise, who gives a fuck?” said Jordan.

“They're grasses. Let's do 'em.”

“A couple of weeks ago and I'd have agreed with you, Ricky, but now I'm not so sure. We've got the gear, we're in the clear, and maybe they've seen the light.”

“What do you mean?” said Macfadyen.

“They can't give evidence against us. They're all compromised. Any case based on their evidence is going to be laughed out of court. And after what Hathaway's done to them, I don't think they're going to be looking to continue their careers as undercover cops, or whatever it is they are. They're no threat to us.”

“They cost us a bundle on that Mexican deal.”

“Agreed, but they all played their part in putting together the Turkish thing. Couldn't have put the financing together so quickly without Jamie's help, and Bunny saved my life, for God's sake. And Louise, well, that's personal. But all three of them made a difference. Maybe not the difference that they were planning to make, but all's well that ends well, yeah?”

“I don't know about this, Den,” said Macfadyen.

“Killing them doesn't do anything for us,” said Donovan.

“It'd make me feel better,” said Jordan.

“Yeah, well, that's something you're going to have to deal with, Ricky. You don't take someone's life just to make yourself feel good. You do it because it serves a purpose, and I don't think that killing these three is going to make a blind bit of difference to our lives. Letting them live might, though.”

Macfadyen and Jordan frowned. They exchanged a look, and Jordan shrugged.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“You're not making any sense.”

Donovan nodded at Fullerton.

“Jamie here didn't grass up the Turkish deal. Why not, Jamie?”

Fullerton shook his head.

“I don't know.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I was confused. That's all. I wasn't sure.”

“You wanted the deal to succeed, didn't you? You didn't want Hathaway to know about it because you wanted it to go ahead.”

Fullerton nodded.

“Because of the money?”

Fullerton shook his head.

“It wasn't just the money. I don't know what it was.”

“I do. For the kick. You wanted to see if you could do it. And you did, Jamie. You played the game and you won. We won. We made them look stupid and we made millions. How did that feel?”

“Yeah, it felt good. When that plane landed, it was like, better than a coke rush. And when the SAS piled in I was so freaked. I thought I'd lost everything. I thought Hathaway would hang me out to dry.” Fullerton stopped talking. He looked guiltily across at Warren and Louise, and fell silent.

“See what I mean?” Donovan said to Macfadyen and Jordan.

“You should use him. He's got a taste for it.” Donovan grinned at Fullerton.

“What about it, Jamie? They stitched you up, why not show them what you can do on the other side of the fence? You're a natural.”

Fullerton nodded slowly.

“Work with you, you mean?”

“Nah, I'm retiring, Jamie. For a few years at least. I've got things to do.” He jerked a thumb at Macfadyen and Jordan.

“But Charlie and Ricky could do with your help. With me out of the game they'll need someone to hold their hands.”

Donovan walked over to Warren. Warren stared up at him defiantly.

“And you, Bunny, what the hell were you thinking of? You know how cops hate blacks. Always have and always will. All that crap about institutional racism is just that. It's not the institution that's racist, it's the people. And you're not going to change the people with seminars and handbooks and codes of practice.”

Warren shrugged.

“They were using you, that's all,” said Donovan.

“They said I could make a difference. And I wanted to.”

“A difference to what? To the drugs business? You think that putting me away would have stopped drugs getting into the country? All the cops and Customs do is regulate the price, Bunny. Supply and demand. They increase the percentage of interceptions and the price goes up, that's all. The price goes up, we make more money, and the addicts on the street go out and rob a few more cars and houses to pay the extra.”

Warren looked down, unwilling to meet Donovan's stare.

“Fuck it, Bunny, being an undercover cop isn't going to get drugs off the street. You want to do that, go be a social worker and make people's lives better so that they don't want drugs. Go be a businessman and create jobs so that people have got a reason to get up in the mornings. But don't kid yourself that playing cops and robbers is going to make a blind bit of difference to the drugs trade. It's here to stay, and everyone from the Government down knows that. The cops and Cussies know that. Do you have any idea how many of them are on the take, Bunny? From me personally? Hasn't the way Hathaway behaved shown you how corrupt the whole business is, their side and mine?”

Warren looked up defiantly.

“What is it you want me to say, Den? That I've been fucked over? Well, I have. I can see that.”

“I want to know what you're going to do about it, Bunny.”

“That's an impossible question to answer. I'm dead on the streets now. PM'll be after my blood.”

Donovan nodded.

“Maybe he doesn't know. No reason for Hathaway to have told him.”

“Too many people know. Everyone in this room, for a start. It's not gonna stay a secret. I lied to him, man. Bigtime. He's never gonna forgive that.”

Donovan shrugged.

“You might be surprised what people will forgive, Bunny. Besides, PM got his gear at a rock bottom price. It's pushed him a lot higher up the food chain and he's gonna need you to keep him on the straight and narrow.”

Warren shook his head.

“Nah, not PM. I've made him look stupid and he ain't gonna stand for that. He's gonna want to show that he's on top of it. I'm gonna have to go.”

“Go where?”

“Fuck you, man. I ain't telling you anything.” He shook his head.

“I'll tell you one thing for free, though.” He nodded with his chin at Fullerton.

“I ain't like him. I don't get no buzz from what I did. Drugs kill people. Kill people, kill communities, kill whole fucking countries. And it ain't no good just saying if it wasn't you it'd be someone else. It's got to stop somewhere. It might as well be you.”

“So you've got what you wanted, Bunny. As of today, I'm out of it. But you know what? It won't make a shred of difference.”

“You're really quitting?” asked Macfadyen.

“I've got all the money I need, Charlie,” said Donovan.

“Even with what Hathaway took. It's all offshore, I'll get it well laundered and put into something legit. I've been telling my boy I sell cement. Might even do that.” He grinned.

“Swap one powder for another.”

“And what about me, Den?” asked Tina.

Donovan folded his arms.

“What about you, Louise? Are you going to apologise, say sorry for lying to me? You weren't the first woman to lie to me and I don't expect you'll be the last, but it would be nice to hear an apology.”

“I'm sorry, Den.”

“Yeah, I've been hearing that a lot lately.”

“There's nothing I can say, is there?”

Donovan shook his head, his lips forming a tight line.

Tina crossed her legs and arms and stared at the floor.

“I saw the look on your face this morning. When you opened the door and I was there. You were relieved, weren't you?” said Donovan quietly.

“You thought I'd been pulled, and when you saw I hadn't been you were pleased.”

Tina nodded but still didn't look up.

“And last night, when I was leaving, you tried to stop me going.”

Tina nodded again.

“I wanted to tell you. I did, Den. But I couldn't.”

“Because you're a cop?”

Tina sighed.

“Yes.”

“Being a cop didn't stop you sending me that text message, did it?”

Macfadyen frowned.

“What text message?”

“It doesn't matter, Charlie.”

“I didn't think you'd got it,” said Tina.

“I got it,” said Donovan.

“I didn't want you to go to prison,” said Tina.

“I didn't want Robbie to be without his dad, I didn't want .. .”

“What?” asked Donovan.

Tina wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Nothing.”

Donovan stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. She rubbed the side of her head against his hand like a dog wanting its ear tickled.

“They used you, Tina. They treated you like a whore. they were worse than pimps because they pretended you were doing it for some greater good.”

“I know,” she said softly.

“Get yourself sorted out, Louise. You shouldn't let anyone use you like that. Least of all someone whose only aim was to sell you out.”

She wiped her eyes again.

“I will.”

“Then give me a call.”

Tina looked up in surprise.

“What?”

Donovan mimed putting a phone to his ear.

“Phone me. Robbie'd like to see you.”

Tina smiled gratefully.

“So that's it?” said Jordan.

“We're just going to let them go?”

Macfadyen sighed.

“Ricky, if you don't shut up, I'll shoot you myself ”I'm just saying .. ."

“Don't say,” said Macfadyen.

“It's Den's call. Good on you, Den. Where are you going?”

“Home,” said Donovan.

“I've got some soccer kit needs washing. And beds to make. Shopping to do.” He grinned.

“A woman's work is never done, hey, lads?”

Three Months Later The rooster kicked out and the metal spur attached to its left claw ripped through the stomach of its adversary. Blood spattered across the sawdust and the crowd cheered and yelled. Fistfuls of pesos were waved in the air, but Hathaway doubted that anyone would be prepared to bet on the underdog. There were few comebacks in cock fighting It wasn't like with humans: bouts couldn't be fixed to hype up the entertainment value. The cocks went in, they fought, the better fighter won. Victory might come by virtue of being faster, or stronger or having more heart, but once one of the cocks was on top, death came quickly.

Hathaway had been to cockfights in Thailand, but he found them a lot less satisfactory because the Thais didn't fit spurs to the birds, so the bouts were longer and scrappier. Maybe it was because the Thais were Buddhists and didn't want to inflict unnecessary pain, but Hathaway thought the Roman Catholic Filipino way was actually kinder. Kills were generally quicker and cleaner.

Hathaway wasn't a great fan of the Philippines, but it was the perfect place to hide, for a while at least. It was a country where pretty much anything could be had for a price, where security and privacy could easily be acquired, and where there were enough Westerners with shady pasts for yet another one to blend in with few questions asked.

The money was all stashed away offshore where it could never be found. Hathaway had become an expert at tracing hidden money and he had put his skills to good effect. He had bought an isolated villa on the outskirts of Manila, made friends with the local police chief, and hired a dozen of the chiefs men as his personal bodyguards. He never went anywhere without at least four of them in attendance, and as he stood at the edge of the cock fighting pit all four were within fifty feet, enjoying the cockfight but keeping a watchful eye out for potential threats.