He winked.
‘You said you and I are on the same side. What side is that?’
‘The side where they don’t put people’s heads on sticks.’ He tipped his hat, about to leave.
‘No, wait. We’re not on the same side. You think if you say it often enough it will come true and you won’t have to feel so bad about yourself. But it’s not true. For all my faults, I’ve got a heart. I can think and feel and love. Right now I’m hurting. What would you know about that? You who works for some shadowy organisation with the morals of a dungeon toad. You who slinks about in the shadows, looking at life through jaundiced eyes, a sour expression on your face. You and I are not the same because there are things that are sacred to me but you don’t know anything about that. You wouldn’t know what it means.’
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He removed a photo. ‘It’s a nice speech, Peeper, but as I say, you are wrong about me. Sooner or later you’ll realise it.’ He held the picture out in front of me. It showed a little girl, maybe six or seven, playing on a rocking horse. ‘This is my little girl. Her name is Johanna. She’ll be eight on Sunday, only I won’t be there to share it with her because she lives in Scotland with her mum, a woman who took such a dislike to me she doesn’t want me near my little girl. They don’t even have a phone, not because they can’t afford one but just so I can’t hear her voice. On Sunday she’ll have lunch with her grandparents and I’ll call. They’ll give me five minutes if I’m lucky and that will be it until Christmas.’ He put the photo back in the wallet and took out a five-pound note. ‘I don’t know if that counts as sacred in your book, maybe you set the bar higher than me. But those five minutes every year are all I have.’ He put the five-pound note down on the bedside table. ‘Here’s your bus fare. Don’t hang around, just do as I told you. Lift to the ground floor and turn left, not forgetting to drop by the cleaners’ cubbyhole next to the Gents.’
I waited for a few minutes after he left and then followed his instructions. It didn’t seem like there was much else to do.
The wind from the sea thudded incessantly against the wall of Miaow’s caravan. She scraped takeaway Chinese food from their silver-foil containers onto three plates. In the background the TV news warned the public not to approach me.
‘There’s only one thing to be done,’ said Miaow. ‘I’ll have to turn myself in.’
‘That’s a silly idea,’ I said.
‘But you didn’t shoot him, I did.’
‘We’re not turning you in.’
‘What else can we do?’ She brought the plates over and set them down on the table.
‘We’ll think of something.’
There was a knock on the door and Calamity walked in without waiting for an answer. She struggled for a second or two to close the door in the gusting wind. She walked over and kissed me.
‘How’s the invalid?’
‘Sore,’ I said.
She nodded. ‘We’re lucky your head’s made of wood.’
‘I wish my heart was.’
She winced and hugged me. ‘Oh Louie.’
‘It’s OK. It’s not the first time I’ve been an outlaw. Where have you been?’
‘Asking around. Mrs Bwlchgwallter went to stay with her sister in Trawscoed, but then she disappeared from there during the night. She hasn’t been back to the shop, so I guess we can go and have a look round for the tape.’
‘We’ll go first thing in the morning.’
‘Let’s eat,’ said Miaow. She poured wine into paper cups and we snapped apart the sets of wooden chopsticks.
Calamity raised the chopsticks holding a bail of twirled noodle clear of the sauce. ‘The way I see it, all roads lead to the mayor. We need to get Meici to change his story. Meici works for the mayor. That human-cannonball job is the only decent thing he’s got in his life; it would kill him to lose it. The mayor can take it away from him.’
‘And the mayor’s our friend; he would do that for us,’ I said.
‘Don’t be like that, Louie. I hate it.’
‘I’m wanted for attempted murder.’
‘And I’m trying to help you. You’ve got to hear me out. All roads lead through the mayor. I agree that’s not a great start, but we’ll come to that. First we have to get Meici to change his story.’
‘And tell them I did it,’ said Miaow.
Calamity sighed with exasperation. ‘No, the story is an unknown John Doe shot Meici. All Meici has to agree is it wasn’t Louie. He was mistaken.’
‘Meici was on TV a while back appealing to me to give myself up,’ I said.
‘That’s where the mayor comes in. We get the mayor to lean on him. All roads lead through the mayor.’
‘This is the mayor who chopped up my desk.’
‘Yes, the mayor who chopped up your desk. It makes no difference; he’s the one we have to work on. Why do you think Meici is doing this?’
‘How many reasons do you need? He’s a berk, he doesn’t like me, and he found his bride’s hanky in my car so he thinks he’s Othello.’
‘Those are all good reasons, but my guess is the mayor put him up to it. I can’t see Meici having enough smarts to invent it himself.’
‘Is it so very difficult?’
‘Actually, I think it is,’ said Calamity. ‘I don’t think it’s an easy thing to do, especially for a bloke who has spent his life living with his mum and never doing anything of his own volition. Don’t forget he was hanging out there in order to attack you. Because of that he would probably be too scared to tell a lie like this on his own.’
‘I agree,’ said Miaow.
‘OK,’ I said. ‘Personally I think he is very capable of making it up himself, it seems just the sort of mean playground lie he would have learned to tell in school. But let’s assume you are right. Let’s suppose the mayor put him up to it.’
‘This all started when Raspiwtin walked in with the Iestyn Probert case. There’s something about it the mayor really doesn’t want aired in public. We’ve got to find out what that something is. Don’t you agree?’
‘I agree,’ said Miaow.
‘In a sense,’ I said. ‘We already know. The kid in the silver suit.’
‘The one from the flying saucer,’ said Miaow.
‘I’m not buying that part of it.’
‘Who was he, then?’ said Calamity.
‘I don’t know.’
‘It was obvious he had to be from the saucer. Why else would he be wearing a silver suit they couldn’t get off him? Why else would they suppress the information? Why else would the Aviary be involved?’
‘I don’t know the answers to these questions, but I’m sure there are some, somewhere.’
Calamity pulled a face.
The caravan door opened and Raspiwtin walked in holding a gun. It was pointed at me; they usually are. ‘Poppet, are you all right?’ he asked Miaow.
‘Mr Raspiwtin, what are you doing?’ she asked.
‘He hasn’t hurt you?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Thank God I came in time. Phone the police.’
‘Don’t be silly.’
‘Do as I say, Poppet. This man is dangerous. He shot a man in cold blood.’
‘No, he didn’t, I did.’
‘No, she didn’t, I did.’ I smiled. He looked confused.
‘Look, Mr Raspiwtin –’
‘Please try and call me Iolo Yefimovich.’
‘Iolo Yefimovich, I know you are very keen on me, but that doesn’t give you permission to enter my caravan uninvited.’
‘But I came to save you!’
‘I don’t want to be saved.’
Calamity produced a length of connecting pipe from a camping-gas cylinder and pressed it into the base of Raspiwtin’s skull. ‘Drop the gun,’ she said.
‘I must advise you, I’m not afraid to die.’
‘We’re not afraid to kill you. Shoot him,’ I said.