The Calvary Project.
Every month, Angel’s was paying five grand to a company the Inland Revenue didn’t know existed.
‘There’s a paper trail half a mile long,’ she said, preempting the question I was about to ask. ‘You’d be wandering in the dark, lost like a puppy dog, trying to find out anything about that company.’
The waitress arrived with our meals. Jade didn’t waste any time, biting down on the burger, juice bubbling beneath the bun.
‘So, where will everyone from the pub go?’ I asked her.
‘The others… I don’t know. I don’t make those decisions.’
‘What about you?’
She paused. ‘I’m not going back. I can’t now.’
‘Why?’
‘I’m sittin’ here with you — why d’you think?’
‘So, where are you going to go?’
She shrugged.
I thought of the numbers Spike had got me.
‘Who makes the decisions, then? This Gerald guy?’
She started laughing, almost choking on her food. ‘Gerald?’
‘Yeah.’
‘No. Not Gerald.’
‘Who’s he?’
‘Gerald doesn’t even know we exist. Gerald’s just a crook, living in some shithole in Camberwell. I just go to him for…’ She paused. ‘Identity changes.’
‘Fake ID.’
She winked. ‘You’re good, Magnum.’
She took another bite of her burger.
‘For you?’
‘For all of us.’
‘Who’s us?’
She smiled. ‘You could be a good copper. You ask the right questions. But you realize the whole reason we’re sittin’ here now isn’t because you’re good, but because we made mistakes. Droppin’ that mobile phone like that, that was a stupid, careless thing to do. Thing is, Jason didn’t expect you to turn up like that. He got jumpy.’
‘So, who’s Gary Hooper?’
‘He’s no one.’
‘The phone your guy Jason dropped is registered to Gary Hooper.’
‘My phone’s registered to Matilda Wilkins. That don’t make me her.’
‘So, who is he?’
‘I told you — he ain’t no one. He’s a ghost. You’ll be chasin’ your tail all fuckin’ day with that one. It’s just a name. Just another lie.’ I watched her push some fries around her plate. ‘I hate to disappoint you, Magnum, but what you have here —’ she gestured to herself ‘— is a foot soldier, not a general.’
‘Who’s Vee?’
‘Vee?’
‘Jason — he asked for Vee. What’s that short for? Veronica?’
She looked at me and suddenly became serious. ‘I’m gonna tell you what I know,’ she started quietly. ‘I’m gonna tell you what I know because I’m tired of runnin’. I’m tired of havin’ to start again when people like you start puttin’ their fuckin’ beaks where they don’t belong. I’m tired of lyin’ to protect somethin’ I don’t…’ She stopped. Her eyes narrowed. ‘Look, first, forget Gerald — he don’t know nothin’. Forget Vee too. That’s just a stage name. And forget the Calvary Project. That won’t lead nowhere but more made-up shit.’
‘What does it do?’
‘What do you think it does?’
‘I don’t think it does anything. You just pass money through it.’
‘It’s a means of protection.’
‘So you can launder money.’
‘Launder money?’ She smiled. ‘This ain’t the mafia.’
‘So the Calvary Project only exists in name?’
She opened a wallet and took out a credit card. ‘All our money comes and goes through it. All our cards are registered to it. It buys our food and our clothes.’
‘So none of the purchases can be traced back to you.’
‘Right.’ She turned the card over. Company Barclaycard. miss matilda wilkins was printed at the bottom. ‘Jade ain’t bought a pair of shoes in years.’
‘This Michael guy, at the church — what’s he got to do with it?’
‘I don’t know much about that.’
‘So, tell me what you do know.’
‘The church is where he recruits people.’
‘Michael?’
She nodded.
‘What do you mean, “recruits”?’
‘Helps them to start again. Sells ’em an idea.’
Selling ideas.
Suddenly, from the darkness of my memory, a face stepped out: the guy with the tattoo in Cornwall. My friend’s a salesman, he’d said. Sells ideas to people. I looked at Jade. She was picking at her food.
‘Who’s the guy with the tattoo on his arm?’
She shot me a look — a sudden, jerking movement like she’d just been punched. Her eyes widened, her face lost colour. She was trying to work out how I’d made the connection.
‘Walk away from that,’ she said quietly.
‘From what?’
‘From him.’
‘Who is he?’
She paused, ran her tongue around her mouth, then jabbed a finger at the photograph of the boy. ‘He’ll protect what that represents above all else. He will go to the ends of the earth to do it. If you can get what you need and get the fuck out without him seeing, then you should do that. Because the only other way to stop him would be to bring the whole thing down.’
‘Bring it down?’
‘The house of cards.’
‘You mean your organization?’
She nodded. ‘But I think it might be too late for that.’
‘Why?’
‘They know who you are. They warned you off once. That’s what they do. They give you a chance. But you coming to the bar this morning, going to the church like you did… They only give you one warning.’
‘So what happens next?’
‘What happens next?’ She paused, looked at me, and we both understood the silence. My heart dropped. You know what happens next, Magnum.
‘Why?’
‘Why d’you think?’
‘Alex?’
She took a sip of beer, didn’t answer.
‘Jade?’
I could hear myself getting impatient. She was still protecting the cause. Still dancing around my questions, even while she was telling me she wanted out. A part of her wanted to break free. But another part of her was so deeply attached to her life, she felt scared about letting go. And she was terrified about the consequences.
‘Why help me?’ I said.
‘Because this whole thing’s outta control.’ She looked at me. Brushed food away from her mouth. ‘We’ve been careless.’
‘Who’s we?’
She didn’t reply.
‘Jade?’
‘We. Us.’ She paused. ‘Him.’
‘Who?’
She glanced at the photograph of the boy, still out on the table.
‘The boy?’ I asked her.
‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘His father.’
‘The man with the tattoo?’
She was teetering. Unsure whether to commit.
‘Jade?’
‘No, not the man with the tattoo.’
‘Who then?’
‘The boy’s father…’ She stopped, looked at me. Something glistened in her eyes. ‘I think, in some ways, he’s even worse.’
‘Who’s the boy’s father?’
‘You’ve pissed him off.’
‘Who is he, Jade?’
‘You’ve really pissed him off. But maybe it’s happening for a reason. I’m not sure I believe in him any more, in what he’s fighting for and the way he’s fighting it.’ She stopped, a sadness in her eyes, then looked up at the sky. ‘And I’m not sure He does either.’
I followed her gaze.
‘He? What is this — some sort of mission from God?’