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‘ Frankie baby, how you feeling?’ came Gary Thompson’s voice brightly.

‘ Unbelievable as it might seem, I feel like fuck,’ he responded and held a cautionary finger up to Connor to keep him quiet.

‘ Aw, you soft git. Still interested in business? I know we were rudely interrupted last night.’

‘ Suppose so.’

‘ Where are you?’

‘ City centre — mooching around.’

‘ Get your arse back to your hotel and we’ll pick you up and go for a drive.’

Henry did not like the sound of that. Sometimes people who went for drives found themselves on mystery tours, deposited in canals with their heads blown off

‘ I haven’t got a lot of time, Gazzer,’ Henry said, deciding to exert some authority. It was important that things progressed on his terms as much as possible from now on. ‘I’11 be in the coffee-house at the hotel and we can talk there.’ Henry had no intention of doing anything further with them in private or without back-up.

‘ You’re too suspicious, Frank,’ Thompson chided.

‘ Yeah, right, and I really can trust you.’

‘ Be there in fifteen.’

The call ended. Henry looked across at Connor who was eager to know its contents. Henry told him nothing because it was better and safer that way. ‘Got to go. We’ll talk soon.’ He pushed himself up with a groan of pain. ‘Oh, there is one thing, John. Thought you’d like to know, if you don’t already.’

‘ What’s that?’

‘ The Russians are coming.’

Henry did not have time to get wired up before the meet with Gary Thompson in the hotel coffee-shop. He wasn’t too concerned about missing any evidence because he saw this rendezvous as the prelude to several others he would be engineering in the near future, but he did have time to make a quick call to Terry Briggs.

During the walk back to the hotel, Henry made the decision to stick with the operation for the time being, even though he was fuming with Davison. He had considered pulling out, but his professionalism as a cop — someone who hated to see the guilty go unpunished — made him want to be instrumental in putting Thompson, Elphick and hopefully Jacky Lee’s actual killer away for a long time. He had no doubt in his mind that the terrible duo had set Lee up and it was now down to his skill as an undercover cop to get them to admit that to him, on tape, in the not too distant future.

Yes, he would stay where he was and see the job through to its natural conclusion, whatever that might be.

Then he would dedicate his life to shafting Rupert Davison good and proper.

Twenty minutes after leaving Sticky Fingers he was sitting by one of the windows in the hotel coffee-shop, overlooking Piccadilly Gardens, having ordered his umpteenth dose of caffeine.

Thompson’s BMW pulled up outside the hotel a few minutes later. Thompson stepped out from the rear seat and the car drew away. Henry got a brief glimpse of Elphick at the wheel and the shape of a man in the front passenger seat. Henry assumed it was Drozdov.

Gazzer was smartly dressed, looked the part. Slicked-back hair, the ubiquitous earring, mobile phone in one hand, he trotted in, nodding at the doorman, very cool, collected and sharp. A million miles from the individual Henry had seen scuttling away moments before the murder of his boss. He had obviously grown into the vacuum created by Lee’s death. And yet, although Gazzer had the majority of the peanut brain he and Gunk shared between them, Henry doubted if he really had the nous to take on Lee’s mantle, run his businesses and make them a success.

Gazzer flashed a winning smile, said, ‘Morning, Frank,’ sat down.

‘ Gazzer,’ Henry nodded.

He pointed at Henry, clicking his thumb like the hammer of a gun. ‘Not Gazzer from now on. Gary, please. More in keeping with the position in life, credibility being an issue and all that.’

‘ Sure, fine. Gary it is.’

Thompson peered closely at Henry’s battered face. ‘Mm, we did make a bit of a mess of you, didn’t we?’ he admitted.

‘ I won’t disagree with that.’

‘ Not that I’m apologising for it. I think it was totally necessary — and anyway, we needed to put on a little bit of a show for Nikolai.’

‘ What?’ Henry demanded. ‘Couldn’t you have chosen some other poor sod?’ he complained. ‘Anyway, who is this Nikolai bloke?’

‘ Just a new business partner.’

‘ Sounds like a Russian name to me.’

‘ He is Russian… the way of the world now that Communism’s collapsed. They have a lot to offer people like me, people who want to expand.’

‘ I take it you’re talking about the Russian Mafia as opposed to legitimate Russian businessmen?’

‘ Is there such an animal?’

Henry decided to have a stab at the jugular, just to test the water. ‘Did he kill Jacky for you? And if he did, what does he want in exchange? Ten, twenty per cent of your business?’ He knew he had hit a nerve when Thompson shifted uncomfortably for a milli-second and then regained self-control.

‘ Fuck all to do with you, mate.’

‘ It does have something to do with me. I was there when Jacky got slotted, remember, and then I’ve been beaten up as a showcase of your serious intent. I’m a businessman, Gary, not a gangster or a violent sod. I make brass for myself and others, just like Jacky did. Live and let live, that’s my motto.’

‘ You make Jacky sound like an angel — which he is now, of course.’ Gary leaned forwards. ‘He was an out-and-out violent bastard — he’d put a lump of lead into anybody’s skull if he thought they’d stitched him up.’

Henry — Frank — tried to look shocked.

‘ Yeah, it’s true, Frank. All you saw was him being Mr Nice,’

Gary whispered, half-closing his eyes, giving the indication he had imparted a tremendous, earth-shattering secret… and right on cue, Henry’s mobile phone rang.

‘ Just give me a second,’ he said to Thompson, knowing it was Terry Briggs at the other end. ‘Frank Jagger. Hi… yeah… sure..’ He looked quickly up at Thompson and said, ‘Yes, I can talk.’

He listened for a few moments, then: ‘Where do you want it?’ he asked. He listened to the response, then said, ‘How much?… Twenty? I’m not sure about that…’ He gave the impression of cutting himself off in mid-sentence, again looking at Thompson, who was seriously trying to earwig the conversation. Henry took the phone away from his ear and pressed the ‘secret’ button. ‘Look, sorry, Gary.’ He began to get to his feet. ‘Can you spare me a minute? Delicate business.’

Thompson nodded understandingly.

Henry moved stiffly away from the table and walked out of the coffee-house into the reception foyer. ‘Yeah, he’s all ears, Terry. I’ll feed him a few lines… Catch you later.’

He re-entered the coffee shop and slipped in opposite Thompson who was fumbling through his Filofax.

‘ Wankers,’ hissed Henry angrily. He glared at his mobile phone.

‘ Problem?’

‘ No — well, nothing really.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Just a load of gear I need to get shifted PDQ. It’s sticking in a warehouse down South.’ He curled his lips bitterly. ‘Deal just fell through.’

‘ Anything I might be able to help with?’

Oh, come to me, my melancholy baby, Henry wanted to sing. Come to Daddy. He had started to put together a little scam so that even if murder charges could not be pinned on Gary and Gunk, they would have a few handling or conspiracy charges on them at the very least. If Drozdov could be roped in too, what a bonus that would be.

‘ Don’t know if it’s in your field, Gary. Some electronic gear — faxes, phones, about fifty Toshiba laptops… that kind of stuff.’

Thompson considered it. ‘You never know, could be of interest.’ He scratched his nose.

‘ I’d be happy to exchange if you felt you had anything worthwhile,’ Henry suggested.

‘ Let me think about it… but for now, let’s get down to our original business, shall we? Whisky, I think.’

Henry glanced out of the window across Piccadilly. He was not sure whether he covered the shock he felt inside as his throat constricted and his heart fluttered. Detective Superintendent Rupert Davison was crossing the road and heading towards the hotel.