He stood up and rummaged in a pocket for a business card. Like Frank’s, the only thing on it was a mobile number. Unlike Frank’s, you could help yourself to twenty of these for two quid at your local motorway service station.
‘I can help you, Nick. But you have to help me to stop those crazy people from hurting your loved ones. Go home and call me tomorrow at midday. I will have some good news, I promise.’
19
I found the number for a minicab firm outside the railway station. Fifty minutes later I was rattling round the ring road in the 911, following signs for the bridge. I hit the Bluetooth and synched up the iPhone, checking the occasional set of headlights in the rear-view.
I rehearsed tomorrow’s speech to Nadif in my head. I’d be phoning with good news. I could raise maybe thirty thousand dollars within the next couple of days. How was that for good faith? Very soon, my very small flat would go on the market, even though I’d only just bought it.
I’d be able to make some money, I’d tell him, but I had a mortgage of just over £100K to repay. I should be able to clear another £45K, but the way the market was, it would take time. Maybe I could try to remortgage. Janet and Justin’s families were working hard to raise money. I was showing trust; I was showing commitment. I would get the money together, come what may.
In the meantime, I really needed Nadif to keep them alive. I needed him to let me speak to them. A man with his influence must be able to help me do those things.
My Breitling had me coming out of the city and onto the motorway at just past five a.m. I dialled Frank, expecting him to be engaged. Ant and Dec would be phoning about now to say I was heading back towards Hereford.
I had to carry on managing his expectations. Apart from anything else, I didn’t want him to go his own way. He was already following my every move. What else might he be up to? When people start fucking about with the system, hostages get killed.
It rang just twice before a voice barked from the speakers: ‘Yes?’
‘All indications are that they’re still breathing. I’ve made contact with someone I think can broker the deal.’
There was a pause.
‘Have you spoken to them? Arrange the exchange. I can have the money ready in—’
‘Stop. It doesn’t work like that. Where are you? We must meet. I need to tell you what’s happening, and what to do next. I’m not going to do that on an open line.’
There was another pause.
‘How good are the indications? Are you able to get them back?’
Either he hadn’t heard or he wasn’t listening.
‘I’m not talking on the mobile. We need to meet.’
‘I am in France. I will send my jet to London.’
‘Can’t you come to me? It’ll be quicker. The clock’s ticking.’
There was a long silence.
‘There is something happening here that I cannot cancel. How long until you can get to the airport?’
‘Three hours, maybe. Less if I get picked up at Bristol airport.’
‘Where?’
‘B-R-I-S-T-O-L. It’s in the south-west.’
‘Someone will call to arrange this.’
‘One more thing …’
‘What?’
‘Call off your guys. You don’t need to check up on me. I’m only letting them stay with me because they’re yours. It’d be a lot easier for me if you lose them. I’m not going to let you down, because I’m not going to let her down. I’m not going to leave them in the shit. So just call them off, yeah? They’ll only fuck things up.’
It took him a moment to digest this too.
‘I have no one following you, Nick. Why would I? Why do you think I chose you? You say you can lose them, so do it. Whatever it takes. I do not want any of my enemies to interfere with this.’
He ended the call.
I pulled off the motorway at the next exit and headed back the way I’d come. I rang Nadif. His phone was turned off. At least, I hoped it was.
Frank’s enemies were now my enemies. He probably wasn’t short of them, but the only ones I knew about came from Tbilisi.
20
It was light by the time the taxi dropped me off. This time I got the driver to take me to the other end of Barratt, so I could walk the last three blocks. As we drove past the turning, I looked to my left. A couple of people in work clothes were getting into their cars.
‘Just here, mate. This’ll do.’
I paid him off and headed back towards Ali’s place. I could soon see the shop front about thirty metres down on the left. What little sunlight there was glinted on the display window and the roof of a car parked beside it. There was no sign of any shiny rental C-class Merc.
I got out my iPhone and tried Nadif one more time as I turned in towards the blue door.
I grabbed the lion’s head knocker to give it a couple of bangs, just to let him know I was there. The door opened towards me a couple of centimetres.
As nonchalantly as I could, I let go of the knocker and stepped aside so I could see through the gap. I eased it further open with my finger. The D-bar was locked. I could see a little way up the stairs, as far as I needed to. A Burberry-slippered foot was just visible at the top. I hoped the rest of him was still attached.
I eased the blue door towards me until it looked like it was shut. A couple of brightly dressed African women came out of the shop laden with milk, bread and papers. They passed me, jabbering away in a dialect I didn’t recognize. I stayed where I was, as if Nadif was just about to answer the door. A couple of trains passed each other at the other end of the street. Traffic whipped along the elevated section a couple of hundred metres away.
Once the women had disappeared, I stepped back onto the pavement and went into Ali’s emporium. It was full of plastic stuff I hadn’t known I needed: cans of dodgy-sounding fizzy drinks and cat food; plastic flowers and bottles of cleaning fluid with Greek labels. I went straight to the kids’ section. For a quid, I picked up a twelve pack of felt-tip pens, a bit thicker than ordinary biros, in a plastic case with a picture of Shrek on the front. I grabbed some rubber gloves on the way to the till.
The woman behind the counter was deep in conversation on the phone about the trouble in Libya as she marked up front pages full of it for the paper rounds. Her brother-in-law’s family lived in Benghazi and she was worried sick. I didn’t interrupt. I put a two-pound coin on the counter with a sympathetic smile and loaded the stuff into a carrier myself.
As soon as I was outside, I ripped Shrek’s head off with my teeth and pulled out a pen. By the time I got to Nadif’s door, I’d also pulled off the cap at the end opposite the nib. I didn’t look around for Ant and Dec, or anyone else. I had to look natural. I had my back to passers-by. They wouldn’t be able to describe anything about me except my height, hair colour and clothes.
I eased the door open far enough to expose the bike lock. There was no point mincing about. I jammed the open end of the pen into the circular key well. Gripping the bar with my left hand, I pushed the pen and twisted. Two turns and the lock fell apart.
I pushed the grille open and slipped inside. I closed the main door behind me. I looked up at the little I could see of Nadif as I put on the rubber gloves. The one contact I had was now history. I dropped the packaging into the carrier bag and shoved it down my sweatshirt.