‘So, you know Jade?’ I asked him.
‘I know a lotta people.’
‘We’re not dancing any more, Gerald.’
He looked at me. ‘Yeah, I know her.’
‘You provided her and her friends with IDs. I want to know who you spoke to, who came here. Specifically, if you’re sending IDs out, I need to know where they’re going. You tell me that and you get this.’
He looked at the hundred, then at my pockets, where I presumed he thought the rest of the money was.
‘Okay,’ he said eventually.
‘First: did you deal only with Jade?’
‘Mostly her.’
‘What does “mostly” mean?’
‘Her, yeah.’
‘She came to pick up IDs for herself?’
‘No,’ he mumbled. ‘Some others too.’
‘Speak up.’
‘Some others too.’
‘Who else’s?’
‘I don’t know. She never told me. I don’t work for her, or whatever the fuck she’s a part of. I work for myself. I’m independent. She just gave me the pictures and the names and addresses and I made them.’
‘Are they the same people every time?’
‘Yeah, mostly.’
‘The same people are getting different IDs every time?’
‘That’s what I said.’
‘You keep a record of the names and addresses they give you?’
He laughed. ‘Oh, yeah. I keep a record of all of them, so when the pigs raid me I can make it easy for them. Of course I don’t keep a list of fuckin’ names.’
‘Did Jade ever tell you who she worked for?’
‘No.’
‘She ever mention a guy called Alex?’
‘How the fuck am I supposed to remember? I’ve met a lot of people doing this, and most of them don’t come in here trying to make nice.’
‘How many IDs did Jade pick up?’
‘In four years?’
‘You’ve been doing this for her for four years?’
‘Yeah.’
‘How many?’
‘Fifty. Maybe more.’
‘When does she come round?’
‘Whenever she needs something.’
‘She doesn’t have particular days?’
‘No.’
‘When was the last time she came around?’
‘I dunno. Week ago maybe.’
I paused, nodded. ‘Okay. You doing IDs for them at the moment?’
‘Yeah.’
‘For when?’
‘Friday.’
‘Day after tomorrow?’
‘That’s Friday, as far as I know,’ he said, smirking.
I could feel the knife against my back again.
‘Is Jade supposed to be picking them up?’
‘Not any more.’
‘You know why?’
He looked at me, shrugged. ‘No. Someone just called this morning.’
‘And said what?’
‘That I’d have a new contact. Some guy called Michael.’
I nodded. ‘They tell you why Jade wasn’t coming?’
‘No. Just that she wouldn’t be my contact any more.’
‘How many IDs are you doing for this new guy?’
‘Four or five.’
I fished around in my pocket for the photo of Alex and held it up. ‘You recognize him?’
‘I can’t see.’
‘So, take a closer look.’
He shuffled forward and squinted at the photograph. ‘No.’
‘His isn’t one of the IDs you’re doing?’
‘No.’
‘You ever done an ID for him?’
‘Dunno.’
‘Be more specific.’
‘I dunno. Don’t remember if I have or haven’t.’
‘You better not be lying to me, Gerald.’
‘I ain’t lyin’.’
He looked like he was telling the truth. He was staring straight at me, barely flinching as he spoke.
‘How long does it take you to make up these IDs?’
‘Depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On what it is. If it’s a driver’s licence, I can do it in a coupla hours. A passport takes longer. You gotta get the marks right, everything in the right place.’
‘They ever ask for passports?’
‘No.’
‘Do you get anything else for them?’
He shrugged.
‘What?’
He flicked a look at me. ‘Guns.’
I paused. Studied him. ‘You ever post their stuff instead of them coming here?’
‘I can’t tell you where I send them — it changes every time.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘I don’t give a shit what you believe.’
I took a step forward and pocketed the money. He looked me up and down, then held up both his hands, nodding towards the pocket with the money in it.
‘Okay, okay,’ he said. ‘This new guy wants to use a drop-off. A deposit box. He said he’d be leaving his place at 6 p.m., so he needs them to be there by then.’
‘Where’s the deposit box?’
He got up and walked through to the bedroom. While he was in there, I reached around to the back of my trousers and repositioned the knife so I could get at it more easily.
I waited.
He came back out, a piece of paper in his hands, and held it out to me. I took it without taking my eyes off him, and slid it into my back pocket.
‘You’d better not be messing me around, Gerald.’
‘It’s all there.’
‘It’d better be. If I find you’ve dicked me around, I’ll be back.’
‘Okay, Arnold Schwarzenegger. Gimme my money.’
I held up the banknotes for him to see, then tossed them at him. We both watched them scatter across the floor.
‘What the fuck is this?’
‘Your money.’
‘This ain’t five hundred notes.’
‘You said you’d help me. If I get anything from your information, I’ll send you the rest. If I don’t, you just made a hundred quid for doing nothing.’
‘You little prick.’
I yanked out the knife and held it up as he came at me. The tip of the blade stopped an inch from one of his eyes. Along the serrated edge, I could see a strip of his face, his eyes wide, bulging, surprised. My heart was racing, thrashing around inside my chest, but the knife was hardly moving.
‘You just made a hundred quid,’ I said.
Gerald held up both hands and backed away. He’d probably had knives at his throat before. Guns too. It was the kind of business he was in. He probably thought it was the kind of business I was in as well. I edged around to my left, towards the door, and wrapped my fingers around the handle.
‘Thanks for your help,’ I said, and slipped out.
I drove north-east across London, crossing the Thames, and parked half a mile from the church in Redbridge. Then I waited. Evening started to move across the sky at about four-thirty. It worked its way in from the horizon, sucking up the light until all I could see were the stars. I put the heaters on full blast and felt the warm air against my body. Ever since I’d watched the man in the mask come into my home, I couldn’t warm up. Couldn’t shake the unease that came with staring into the darkness and not knowing what was staring back.
I knew I was doing the only thing I could now. There was no returning to the places I once felt safe. They knew where I lived. And they would know where I worked now too.
They knew everything about me.
This was all I had left.
24
At ten-thirty, I stepped out of the shadows and made my way around to the back of the church. The building was alarmed. I could see a box high up next to the statue of Christ, winking on and off — but there was no alarm on the annexe. They wouldn’t have had the chance to wire it up yet.
There were two locks requiring two different keys, but the wooden door meant that this was only token security. I slid my pocket knife in through the gap between door and frame and started prising at the opening. Some of the door split straight away. I could see the dial box for the keys. More of the door broke off, coming away in cable-thin strips. I kicked them out of the way, and took a quick look around, then started levering some more.