I Am Gold (15 page)

Andrew Rockmain said, semi-snarled: ‘Obviously, there are to be no single-handed operations here. None.' He was sitting at one of the three screen monitors in the caravan, looking flimsy but authoritative. Iles had helped design the command caravan. Anchored metal-framed office chairs stood in front of the screens. Communications equipment occupied part of one wall, with another fixed office chair near for the negotiator. Some siege experts specified that the negotiator should be housed entirely separately, so as not to be affected by, or to affect, the operational work. But Rockmain wanted the main participants together. He obviously thought he spanned both functions, the negotiations and the crisis management, and required them all to be within reach of his advice and influence.

A safe contained four Walther handguns. The combination changed weekly and was given only to Gold. The caravan had a sink unit, Calor gas stove, first aid cabinet, and a fold-away, leather-covered couch for either between-watch sleeping, or laying out someone injured. A control panel could switch one or both of the roof-mounted searchlights to automatic sweep or home-in focus.

Iles and Harpur were on their feet, watching the charity shop through the big side window of the caravan. Gary James Dodd had remained in the command vehicle with them and sat on a padded wall-bench not far from Rockmain. Dodd picked up one of Rockmain's words: ‘So some operations are banned. OK. But are there going to be
any
operations at all? What's this damned inane talk between yourselves and with him in the shop?'

‘Are you one of that few?' Iles said

‘Which few?' Dodd said.

‘The few who do regard me as a fait néant twat,' Iles said.

‘This
is
an operation,' Rockmain said. ‘The waiting, the patience, the daft babble – they are integral. The talk fills the time, you see.'

‘And are you calling little Andy Rockmain a fait néant twat as well, Mr Dodd?' Iles said.

‘Let me speak to him,' Dodd replied. ‘To John, as you call him, inside the shop.'

Rockmain turned away from his screen and towards Dodd. He said: ‘It's possible. I've known something like that happen in other sieges.'

‘Mr Rockmain is quite a one for sieges,' Iles said.

‘My partner is in there with someone armed and unstable,' Dodd said. ‘Please, let's do something.'

‘But we don't know as fact that she
is
in there, do we?' Rockmain said. ‘We've no definite identification. You've given me an analysis of her mental condition, but it's only relevant if the woman pulled in from the street is, indeed, Veronica Susan Cleaver. Why would she be in the, as it were, “wrong” part of the city for her shopping today?'

‘If I talked to him I might be able to confirm it's Veronica. Perhaps he'll even let her speak to me,' Dodd said.

‘Yes, I've known something like that happen, too, in sieges,' Rockmain said. ‘But it's usually much later on, when the hostage-taker is weakening and needs something he believes will boost his chances. He calculates that a loving, sorrowful conversation will dramatize the plight of the people being held and lead to concessions by the siege master. It's like the way Middle Eastern kidnappers get pictures and statements from their prisoners on to television. The sentiment card. Pressure.'

‘We've no contact at present,' the negotiator said.

‘And such a conversation gives the hostage taking part in it a context, as it were, fleshes out her or him,' Rockmain said. ‘She or he becomes more than a hostage. He or she acquires a background – social, familial, sexual. It is there, enacted before the hostage-taker. It may help reach his human feelings.'

Iles said: ‘You mean that until this phone chat he imagined the people he's holding had had no personal lives but hung about solitary, waiting for the chance to start a hostage career, like tadpoles destined to be frogs?'

‘Mr Iles can be relaxed whatever the situation, and no matter how many lives are at risk,' Rockmain said with a fine chuckle. ‘It's what the Italians call
sprezzatura
, I believe, and the French
sang-froid.
He'd do brilliantly in Interpol. Such a waste to have him cooped up here, yet at the same time a boon to all present, naturally.'

‘Can't we renew contact?' Dodd said.

‘He doesn't reply. We have to wait for him to call us,' the negotiator said.

‘Tell me how you'd run it, Mr Dodd,' Rockmain said.

‘Run it?'

‘The conversation. With him first, if he wants it, then possibly with her.'

‘Well, it's obvious, isn't it?' Dodd said.

‘I'm asking you to tell me how you'd run it, so it isn't obvious, is it, or I wouldn't ask you,' Rockmain replied. He said it softly, gently, the voice of conciliation, although the message was, ‘Watch your fucking step with me, Doddy.' Harpur thought Rockmain achieved a brand of miniature dignity. He might not be playing this situation right, but he behaved as if he was and as if he knew as a total certainty he was. This would be what had got him up to Commander in the Met, despite his quaintness.

‘I'd tell him I believe one of the hostages might be my girlfriend, my partner,' Dodd said, ‘and that I cared for her very dearly.'

‘No. We don't use the word “hostage”,' Rockmain replied. ‘It can be an antagonizing word, you see, Mr Dodd. It presumes a crisis.'

‘But it
is
a crisis,' Dodd said.

‘We do not confirm that categorization to him. In crises, people can react impulsively, ungovernably, destructively,' Rockmain said.

‘That's what I fear,' Dodd said.

‘It's what you fear but not what you let him know you fear,' Rockmain replied. ‘If you let him know you fear it he will be forced to recognize he is in a totally duff position and that you and the rest of us are afraid this realization will push him to … to act out of despair.'

‘To shoot the hostages and possibly himself, you mean?' Dodd said.

‘To act out of despair,' Rockmain said. ‘You probably know, Mr Dodd, that despair is considered by Christian thinkers to be the unforgivable sin. That's because it denies the power of God to save. We are not God, though Mr Iles is Gold, but we do not want John in there to feel we regard him only as a target in our eventual assault. So, when we refer to the hostages, when the negotiator refers to the hostages, we use a blander, less definitive phrase, such as “the people with you”, or “the members of the public involuntarily involved in this stand-off”.'

Dodd said, ‘Right, so I'd ask whether one of the people with him was –'

‘That's the way,' Rockmain said, with a lovely smile of congratulation. ‘Possibly, he will not know the names of the hostages. Their names are, in a sense, irrelevant. A hostage is a hostage is a hostage.'

‘Or, The people with you, The people with you, The people with you,' Iles said. ‘Alternatively, The members of the public involuntarily involved in this stand-off, The members of the public involuntarily involved in this standoff, The members of the public involuntarily involved in this stand-off.'

‘But perhaps he'll ask the people with him,' Dodd said, ‘ask if the woman is one of them.'

‘He might,' Rockmain said. ‘We have to be ready, in fact, for six contingencies. One, he refuses to talk to you. Two, he refuses to ask the hostage for her name. Three, he asks, or purports to ask, but says nobody of that name is there. Four, he says, “Yes, there is someone of that name.” Five, he refuses to let her speak. Six, he allows her to speak. Shall we take them in order? One, he refuses to talk to you.'

‘But why should he refuse?'

‘What's in it for him? He thinks only about retaining his power. To block your requests is power. To agree to One or Two he might feel is compliant, a step towards weakness.'

‘So what do I do?' Dodd said. ‘Entreat? Plead?'

‘Not either of these. We don't want to endorse or increase his sense of sovereignty. That could prolong things – make him less tractable, at least for a while.'

‘So what do I do?' Dodd said.

‘Repeat the request.'

‘And if he still refuses?' Dodd asked.

‘Abandon it,' Rockmain said.

‘But, my God, I – we – are left in ignorance,' Dodd said. ‘We are left as we were before you asked,' Rockmain said.

‘In ignorance,' Dodd said.

‘Not in ignorance,' Rockmain said. ‘We have learned he is still defiant and a call on his compassion is not the way to look for progress.'

‘Which
is
the way?' Dodd said.

Harpur's mobile phone sounded and he went outside the command caravan to deal with the call, and not interrupt Rockmain's delicate briefing of Dodd. The Control Room put through Adrian Morrison Overdale, aged forty, of 7B Cortilda Square, chartered surveyor. ‘He thinks he might know the woman abducted off the street,' the Control Room inspector said.

‘We already have a possible name for her,' Harpur said, ‘Veronica Susan Cleaver.'

‘Yes, that's right. It's the name Overdale gives us. It sounds as though he's in some sort of relationship with her. Do we know her background? He's very emotional, sir.'

‘Cortilda Square is just around the corner from the charity shop, isn't it?' Harpur replied.

‘It's one reason he thinks the woman might be her,' the inspector said. ‘Plus the description, of course. He was waiting for her at his flat. I'll transfer him to you now.'

Harpur said: ‘Mr Overdale? I gather you might have some information for us.'

‘This is terrible, terrible,' Overdale said.

‘You believe you know one of the hostages?'

‘Oh, hell, it's Veronica, isn't it, Veronica Cleaver? But, if it's not, please, please tell me, tell me if it's not. I'm so worried for her. Is it, is it, Veronica?'

‘You think this woman, held with others in the charity shop, was coming to see you in Cortilda Square and is Veronica Susan Cleaver?' Harpur replied.

‘Terrible, terrible.'

Chapter Twenty

2007

What really astonished Manse was that it seemed so natural after his restaurant lunch with Naomi for them to go back to Ealing together. All the worries he'd had about how things would turn out looked so unnecessary now in her bed, so stupidly fearful. It was a king-size, which probably meant she'd bought it with her partner way back, so as to get plenty of space, but also intimacy when required, but Manse did not mind this. No bleeding point in minding it: the past was only the past and you could not hope to govern it, or wipe it out, or chip inconvenient bits off of it. What had happened had happened. Even if it happened a lot, Manse wouldn't get in a sweat about that now. He didn't expect this to be the first time she'd found out about sex. She had been entitled to pre-Manse love. Well, think of him and Syb. You had to be reasonable about these things, and he would really try.

Manse realized as they drank their coffees and brandies at the end of the meal that she regarded this as only the start of their day, perhaps leading into tomorrow and other days and nights. He saw she knew about relationships and could tell just which point they had reached. She would be certain they should go forward now, or the present thin link might come apart. It was thin because so new and recent, not because of poor feelings. Manse agreed there must be progress. He recognized a true understanding between them, something precious to him.

She had told him she knew the restaurant from when she half owned that magazine – what she called a weekly London ‘celebrity sheet' – and some top staff used to eat here and entertain people who might figure in the paper, as well as advertising and press relations executives. Naomi said they'd probably see some colleagues here today. It bucked Manse up a lot to think she wouldn't mind being spotted there with him. He felt glad he had put on his custom-made Tirrel and Clay single-breasted, light grey whistle. People in this sort of eatery would spot at once if a suit came from the reach-me-down rail in Marks and Spencer. Naomi did wave to a couple of women at one of the tables, thirties, wearing pricey business gear, in what seemed like big office talk together. Naomi said that as a matter of fact she'd sold her share of the magazine not long ago but stayed as a consultant.

At her flat later on, she had begun to undress herself but then seemed to sense he wanted to do that for her and took a few quick, happy steps towards him, rebuttoning the ones she'd started with. If you'd met someone in a gallery where, it didn't really need to be said, everyone kept their clothes on and examined the art, it would show a true change of things if, in another location, you could strip that person to her skin and get no fight back, the opposite. Manse didn't mess up on this. He knew about zips and clips and buttons. Even though he felt big excitement and got hit by some small shakes he could still be deft. Then,
she
took
his
clothes off and when he lifted his arms pulled the singlet up over his head in one strong, easy tug, like his body had been greased. This was maturity, he thought. This was high desire.

The singlet had not been cheap and flimsy and fitted him real snug, but Naomi didn't let this trouble her at all. As well as her general skill with relationships, she clearly knew singlets. Again, this showed something about the past and the man or men she'd been close enough to to pull off their singlets in these kinds of private, run-up conditions. She did not try to hide that flair, and Manse admired her honesty. He decided he would never nag about her knack with singlets and ask about the stories behind it.

In bed she lay on her back and bent her arms into sideways Vs on each side of her head like wings, a sort of surrender position. But that did not mean it was a mock rape. No, he believed she wanted to say to him, ‘You deserve me, Manse, you deserve it, Manse, and I deserve you, Manse, I deserve it, Manse.' He felt a brilliant harmony existed. Shale knew if dicks could sing his would of now. The whole day, from the beginning of the lunch, had been like this – the harmony – and he hoped all days from now on would be like it. Even though she'd been dressed then, he had guessed in those first few minutes at the Pre-Raphaelite gallery that it would be great and meaningful to bang her, and he'd been so right. He was not always right about women in this aspect, besides which, some of them, although he thought it would be meaningful and great to bang them, didn't let him anywhere near, and might even give him a foul earful if he kept on scheming for it, so there'd be no possibility.