‘You took care of Sunny?’
‘I did.’
‘Were there any problems?’
‘None.’
‘You will be collected soon, brother.
Alhamdulillah w AShokrulillah
.’ Praise and thanks to Allah.
‘
Alhamdulillah w AShokrulillah
,’ repeated al-Hussain. He ended the call, removed the sim card from the phone and went along to the bathroom where he broke it in half and flushed it down the toilet.
The intercom buzzed and Shepherd checked the CCTV monitor. It was Wedekind. He pressed the button to admit him. Two minutes later the bell rang and he went to the front door. Wedekind was wearing a tweed jacket and grey trousers and carrying a scuffed leather briefcase. He looked apprehensive and started speaking the moment Shepherd opened the door. ‘Obviously I need to apologise,’ said Wedekind. ‘And I do, unequivocally.’
‘Come on in, Howard,’ said Shepherd.
‘You’re angry, I understand that. But you have to understand that I needed to carry out due diligence.’
Shepherd opened the door wider but Wedekind stayed where he was.
‘You understand that, Terry? It was nothing personal.’
‘Howard, stop babbling and come inside before my neighbours start to wonder what’s going on.’ He gestured with his thumb for Wedekind to come inside. When Wedekind hesitated, Shepherd grinned. ‘Howard, if I was planning to hurt you, I’d hardly do it in my own flat.’
Wedekind forced a smile and walked into the hallway. Shepherd closed the door, then led him into the sitting room. ‘Drink?’ he asked.
‘No, thanks,’ said Wedekind, sitting down on one of the sofas. ‘Look, obviously I need to explain what’s been going on.’
Shepherd sat in an armchair. There were three hidden cameras in the room, two of which covered the sofa, and half a dozen concealed microphones that ensured anything said in the room was relayed back to Thames House. ‘I’m listening.’
Wedekind raised his hands. ‘I was carrying out due diligence, nothing more. We’re doing business with you so we need to know if there are any problems.’
‘You had two men sitting in a car outside my apartment,’ said Shepherd. ‘That’s not due diligence. What were you hoping to achieve?’
‘We just wanted to be sure that you were …’ He failed to finish the sentence.
‘What, Howard? What were you scared of?’
‘Not scared, Terry. Curious. You say you want to work for the brothers, and that’s great, but you can’t expect us to take everything you say on trust. What do we know about you? I mean, really know about you?’
Shepherd didn’t say anything. It was better to let the man talk because Wedekind was nervous and nervous people tended to say too much.
‘You could have all sorts of problems, and if you join the brothers, those problems might come with you. You can understand they wouldn’t want that, can’t you?’
Shepherd shrugged.
‘I know Paul vouched for you and that’s great, but he doesn’t know everything there is to know, does he?’
‘Like what, Howard?’
‘Drugs, for instance. Do you have a drugs problem? Do you owe a dealer who might be after you? Do you sell drugs? And if you do, are the cops on your case?’
‘You think I sell drugs?’
‘We don’t know, do we? That’s why we carry out due diligence. That’s all it is, Terry. We run checks on anyone we deal with.’
‘Let me get this straight,’ said Shepherd. ‘You checked with the cops? That’s what you’re saying, right? You did a PNC check on me?’
‘We had you checked out, yes.’
‘You had a tame cop run my name through the Police National Computer?’ Shepherd sat back and folded his arms. ‘Why the fuck would you do that?’
‘I told you. Due diligence. You don’t need to worry. It was one of the guys we use all the time. He doesn’t know he’s checking, just tells us what’s there, that’s all.’
‘All you had to do was ask me, you know that.’
‘It doesn’t work that way, Terry.’
‘You don’t think that having two goons sitting outside my apartment might cause me problems?’
‘They’re not goons, Terry. They’re investigators. And you terrified them.’
‘Serves them right. They were lucky I didn’t set fire to them. And, trust me, if I ever see them again I will.’ He glared at Wedekind, though it was disconcerting staring at the man because his wonky left eye was looking off to the side.
‘Message received and understood, Terry.’
‘I’m serious, Howard. I don’t appreciate being spied on.’
Wedekind’s smile vanished. ‘Understood.’
‘Tell me, was this your idea or Tommy or Marty’s?’
‘Due diligence is down to me.’
‘Now, hang on a minute, do the brothers know you were having me followed?’
‘They trust me to do my job,’ said Wedekind.
‘Don’t fucking play with words, Howard. Just answer the question.’
Wedekind took a deep breath. ‘Tommy and Marty deal with people they don’t know through me. I insulate them from any problems. Only when I can vouch for you one hundred per cent will they even think about dealing directly with you. That’s why due diligence is necessary. The brothers aren’t aware of the specifics, but they know I’ll be checking you out.’
Shepherd frowned. ‘How long had your guys been tailing me?’
‘A couple of days.’
‘They followed me to Reading, right?’
Wedekind folded his arms. ‘Yes.’
‘That explains why my guy didn’t turn up,’ Shepherd snarled. ‘He must have seen them. Just them, or were they mob-handed?’
‘Just them. They followed you to the service station but they got nabbed for speeding on the way back to London.’
‘Have you any idea what the fuck you’ve done?’ spat Shepherd. ‘I was there to meet a guy who owes me thirty grand for a job I did. He was supposed to pay me. I waited but he didn’t turn up and his phone’s off now. He must have seen your guys and thought it was a set-up.’
‘I’m sorry about that, Terry.’
‘Sorry doesn’t cut it!’ he snapped. ‘If I lose that money, it’s down to you.’
‘Calm down, Terry, please.’
Shepherd stood up abruptly and Wedekind flinched. ‘I’m not going to fucking calm down!’ he shouted. ‘You might have cost me thirty grand, and I’m not having that!’
‘Okay, okay,’ said Wedekind. ‘I’ll put it right.’
‘Damn right you will!’ Shepherd bunched his right hand into a fist. ‘I should beat the crap out of you now, I really should.’
He took a step towards Wedekind and the man flinched again. ‘Terry, please.’
Shepherd relaxed and took a deep breath. ‘I’m serious, Howard. If my guy’s done a runner and I don’t get my money, it’s down to you.’
‘Yes, agreed. Now, please, sit down.’
Shepherd threw Wedekind a final withering look, then dropped into his chair.
‘I apologise, Terry. It won’t happen again.’
‘Damn right it won’t,’ said Shepherd. ‘I need a fucking drink.’ He stood up and went over to a drinks cabinet. ‘You?’
‘I’m fine,’ said Wedekind. Shepherd poured himself a gin and tonic, shielding the glass with his body so Wedekind couldn’t see how little gin went into it.
‘So, what did you want to talk about?’ Shepherd sat down again.
‘The brothers have another job for you, if you’re interested.’
‘Sure.’ He sipped his drink. ‘What do they have in mind?’
‘Similar to the Larry McGovern job. Take care of business and make sure no one finds them.’
‘Them?’
‘A father and son. They’ve been giving the brothers all sorts of grief.’
‘No kids,’ said Shepherd. ‘I made that clear from the start.’
‘The son’s twenty-eight,’ said Wedekind. ‘A Scouser by the name of Karl Palmer. They call him Lippy because he talks too much. His dad’s Gerry. They ripped off a delivery the O’Neills had arranged. Container-load of marijuana coming on the cross-Channel ferry.’
‘They must have balls, ripping off the O’Neills,’ said Shepherd.
‘They might not have known – but when they were told they didn’t seem fazed. Tommy sent an emissary to negotiate for the return of the consignment but they broke his legs and bust his spleen. They took the view that they rule the roost in Liverpool and there’s nothing the brothers can do to them.’
Shepherd sipped his drink as Wedekind reached for his briefcase. He opened it, took out a couple of photographs and passed them to Shepherd. One was of a slightly overweight man in his fifties with a greying mullet and a sweeping grey moustache. The son also had a mullet but his hair was a shade of dark brown that looked as if it might have come from a bottle. He was wearing a denim jacket with the arms hacked off over a black leather motorcycle jacket. ‘The son’s a biker?’ asked Shepherd.
Wedekind nodded. ‘So’s the father. A group called the Outlaws.’
‘They can be dangerous, bikers.’ He turned over the photograph of the father. The man’s name and address were on the back.
‘You can do it, though, can’t you?’
‘Sure. I know Liverpool well enough. It’s just a question of timing.’
‘You won’t be alone on this one,’ said Wedekind. ‘I’ll put you in touch with another guy we’re using. His name’s Mark Ashton. He’s based in Manchester.’
‘What the fuck?’ said Shepherd. ‘I fly solo.’
‘Yes, of course, but the father and son tend to stick together. It’s too tough a job for one.’
‘Yeah? Well, with respect, that’s not your area of expertise, is it? I work best alone, end of.’
‘Tommy and Marty don’t want any fuck-ups.’
‘I don’t fuck up,’ said Shepherd. ‘I never have and I never will. I don’t see how you can expect me to work with a stranger. That’s asking for trouble.’
‘Mark’s never let us down before. The brothers would use him more down here if they could but he prefers to stay up north.’
‘Howard, you can’t take two professionals who’ve never worked together and assume they’re going to get on. Everyone works differently.’
‘They do. You can sit down with Mark and work out how best to proceed.’
‘How best to proceed? The best way to proceed is to let me get on with it.’
Wedekind forced a smile. ‘The brothers want a two-man team. If you’re telling me you can’t work as part of a team, I’ll relay that back to them. But I think we both know how they’ll react to that.’ He looked at Shepherd expectantly. ‘It’s your call, Terry.’
Shepherd glared at him, then took a long pull on his drink. He put down the glass, his eyes still on Wedekind. ‘Fine,’ he said eventually.
‘Excellent,’ said Wedekind.
‘How do I go about meeting this Ashton?’
‘I’ll arrange something,’ said Wedekind, standing up and grabbing his briefcase. ‘And, once again, my heartfelt apologies for what happened earlier.’
‘Yeah, well if you fix me up with the money thing I’ll let bygones be bygones.’
Shepherd showed Wedekind out and called Willoughby-Brown. ‘Did you get all that?’ he asked.
‘Every word, sound and vision,’ said Willoughby-Brown. ‘Nice job on muddying the waters re the M4.’
‘Did you know they’d done a PNC check on Terry Taylor?’
‘That was news to me. You’re flagged so we should be told as soon as it happens. Either he was bluffing or there’s a problem. I’ll check, obviously.’
‘Do we have enough now?’
‘We’re getting there,’ said Willoughby-Brown. ‘We have enough to pull in Wedekind, certainly. But the brothers aren’t tied up yet.’
‘What do you think about this new job?’ asked Shepherd.
‘It could be another test,’ said Willoughby-Brown. ‘Or it could be they think of you as a team-player.’
‘He didn’t buy the “I work best alone” story.’
‘Taking out two targets needs two operatives, at least.’
‘Sure. But we’re not going to be able to fake it if I’ve got a sidekick.’
Willoughby-Brown chuckled. ‘To be honest, Daniel, I got the impression that Wedekind regards you as the sidekick.’
‘Semantics aside, you get my point?’
‘I do, I do. We can hardly fake it if you’re part of a team. Let me make some enquiries about Mark Ashton before we decide what to do. We might be able to take him out of the equation.’
‘We have Wedekind on video planning a murder. That’s enough to nail him for conspiracy.’
‘Sure. But that’s, what, somewhere between five and eight years? Out in four at the most. Is that likely to be enough to get him to give evidence against the O’Neills? I think not.’
‘So offer him witness protection?’
‘It’s four years, Daniel. Plus if we do show our cards, he’ll know where he was recorded, which blows your cover.’
Shepherd gritted his teeth in frustration. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear but he knew Willoughby-Brown was right.
‘Let me give it some thought,’ said Willoughby-Brown.
‘Not too long,’ said Shepherd. ‘If they come for me I’m going to have to bail and then it’ll be over.’
‘I hear you,’ said Willoughby-Brown. ‘My thinking cap is on. Oh, and while I have you, Miles Davies will see you tomorrow.’
‘Seriously? In the middle of this?’
‘If you think about it, the timing is pretty much perfect. You’re in town and all you’re doing is waiting for the call. Miles will see you first thing. It’s unlikely that the job will be that soon.’
‘I suppose so,’ said Shepherd.
‘You’ll be fine, Daniel,’ said Willoughby-Brown, and ended the call.
Omar finished washing the grease and oil from his hands and grabbed a paper towel. The door burst open and Zack walked in, clearly angry. ‘What are you doing?’ he asked.
‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ said Omar, tossing the screwed-up towel into the waste bin.
‘We’ve work backed up,’ said Zack, putting his hands on his hips and jutting his chin, like their father did when he was angry. ‘You need to help Toby with that gearbox. It has to be done by first thing.’
‘I’ve got to go,’ said Omar, taking his motorcycle jacket and helmet.
‘You have to stay here,’ said Zack. ‘There’s work to be done.’
Omar tried to push past his brother but Zack grabbed his arm. Omar reacted instinctively. He had been taught unarmed combat by hardened jihadists in the desert and Zack was weak and flabby. In less than a second Omar had his brother up against the lockers, his face squashed against a metal door. Zack yelped in pain as Omar yanked his arm up behind his back. ‘Don’t you dare lay your hands on me,’ hissed Omar.