‘Like when you were shot?’
‘That’s right,’ said Shepherd. ‘I know it hurt, but I can’t remember the pain. It’s the same with Mum. Every day it’ll hurt less.’
‘I don’t want to forget her,’ said Liam.
‘You won’t.’ He patted his son’s shoulder. ‘So, what’s with wanting a new mum?’
Liam shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I think I just want to be a family again.’
‘You and I are a family.’
‘We’re half a family,’ said Liam.
‘There must be lots of kids at school with just one parent,’ said Shepherd. ‘Half of all marriages end in divorce, these days.’
‘You weren’t going to divorce Mum, were you?’
Shepherd smiled. ‘Of course not.’ He had loved Sue from the first moment he’d spoken to her in the pub in Hereford. He had been a cocky SAS trooper, the best of the best, and she had been a local girl who knew all about the heartbreak the soldiers caused in the town. Her friends had warned her of the danger in getting involved with one, and so had her parents. But Shepherd had won her over and when he’d married her he’d known he was married for life. ‘Till death us do part,’ he’d said, and he’d meant it. Sue was the love of his life, even when they’d argued and fought. They’d argued about his career with the SAS, and he’d let her talk him into leaving for the sake of their marriage and their son. And they’d argued about his career as an undercover cop because it kept him away from home for long periods. But divorce? Never.
‘So it’s not the same. If you and Mum weren’t living together, we’d still be a family. We’d just be one that had split up. I’d still have a mum and a dad.’
Shepherd lay back on the grass and stared up at the pale grey sky. It was overcast but dry and not too cold.
‘So, you won’t marry Katra?’ asked Liam.
Shepherd chuckled. ‘It’s not really on, Liam,’ he said.
‘She likes you.’
‘And I like her. But I’m her boss. She works for us.’
‘She does the same for us that Mum did. She cooks and cleans and takes me to school. She irons your shirts, same as Mum did.’
‘That’s her job.’
‘But she likes you.’
Shepherd sighed. ‘Someone liking you is no reason to get married. You have to love them. I loved your mum, and I love her as much now as I did when we got married. I’m going to have to wait until I meet someone I love as much as your mum. Maybe more… I have a question for you,’ he said, linking his fingers behind his head. ‘How would you feel if we moved house?’
‘Where to?’
‘I don’t know. Not far. You’d still go to the same school.’
‘So why would we move?’
His son and Kathy Gift had one thing in common, Shepherd mused. The knack of asking questions he found difficult to answer. ‘Okay, here’s the thing,’ he said. ‘This house was our family house, for you, your mum and me. Your mum chose the decoration, she laid out the garden, she picked the furniture.’
‘That’s why it looks so good.’
‘Right. But maybe we should get a new house – a house that belongs just to us.’
‘And not Mum?’
‘Mum doesn’t need a house.’
‘Because she’s in heaven?’
That wasn’t somewhere Shepherd wanted to go. He knew there was no such place as heaven and that Sue wasn’t sitting on a cloud playing a harp. But although he’d been happy enough for Liam to know that Father Christmas didn’t exist, it would serve no purpose to blow his faith in God and heaven out of the water.
‘Yes, she’s in heaven.’ He’d promised himself that he would never to lie to his son but the truth, as Shepherd saw it, would have been far more hurtful. ‘She’s in heaven watching over you and helping me to take care of you.’
Liam nodded, and Shepherd knew he’d done the right thing. Perhaps some lies were acceptable.
‘It’s just that if we had somewhere new to live, maybe we wouldn’t miss her so much. I think that one of the reasons we think about her all the time is that we’re still living in her house.’ He sat up and rubbed his legs.
‘So if we move, we’ll forget her?’
‘No, of course not,’ said Shepherd. ‘It’s not about forgetting her. We won’t ever forget her. But the house keeps reminding us that she’s not here.’
‘But I like that,’ said Liam. ‘Sometimes when I come in from school, it’s like she’s waiting for me in the kitchen.’
‘But doesn’t it make you feel bad when she’s not?’
‘I guess.’
‘So if we were in a new house, maybe you wouldn’t.’
Liam wiped his nose with his sleeve. ‘Okay.’
Shepherd left Edgware Road Tube station and wandered round Marks amp; Spencer for five minutes to check that he wasn’t being followed, then crossed the road and went into the Hilton Hotel. He was dressed as Tony Corke – cheap jeans, a roll-neck pullover, work boots and a new pea coat to replace the one he’d lost on the trawler.
He took the lift to the seventh floor and went to Hargrove’s suite. A dozen men and two women were with the superintendent, all in casual clothing. Jimmy Sharpe and Paul Joyce were among them, and an Asian guy in his late twenties, who grinned. ‘If I’d known it was you, Spider, I would’ve used something more heavy duty.’ Amar Singh worked for the National Criminal Intelligence Service but was often utilised by Hargrove’s undercover unit as he had access to state-of-the-art surveillance and tracking equipment.
‘Good to see you again, Amar,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t drop anything.’
‘Right,’ said the superintendent, raising his voice. ‘Spider will be taking a rucksack with the three cans to Speaker’s Corner. Amar, please.’
Amar picked up a blue canvas rucksack and heaved it on to a coffee table. He took out three large cooking-oil cans and held up one in both hands. ‘This is the one with the transmitter, but hopefully you won’t see the difference. We’ve built the power pack and electronics into the base and incorporated the aerial into the ridge round the bottom. Even when they cut open the can to get at the cash, they shouldn’t find our gear.’ He put the cans back into the rucksack.
‘There’s an outside chance that they’ll pat Spider down so he won’t be wearing any recording devices or transmitters,’ the superintendent continued. ‘We won’t be using long-range eavesdropping either, but we will be taking photographs. This afternoon’s meeting is solely to make contact with the targets. Spider will hand over the money, and we’ll follow it. Our primary objective is to identify the men taking possession of it, but we will also be using the handover as an opportunity for a longer-term penetration of the gang. Spider’s going to have to play that by ear. If he decides to go voluntarily with them, he’ll pinch the bridge of his nose with his right hand. If we get that signal we follow – but at a distance. Everyone clear on that?’
They nodded.
‘We doubt they’ll bring firearms to such a public place, but he’s wearing a Kevlar vest in case they do.’
Shepherd pulled up his pullover to reveal it.
‘We’re not sure how many will turn up, or how they’ll react,’ said Hargrove. ‘Spider’s to hand over the cans in exchange for thirty thousand pounds. It’s just possible that they’ll pull guns or knives and snatch the cans but, again, in view of the location it’s unlikely. However, they might try to take Spider against his will. There’s no way we can allow that to happen. We don’t know who they are or what they’re capable of, so if at any time Spider wants out, the signal will be for him to rub the back of his neck with his left hand.’