Shepherd shrugged. ‘I don’t see why not.’
‘Thought I might visit a few of the Asian shops, check out the restaurants from that part of the world.’
‘Afghan cuisine?’
‘You’d be surprised, mate,’ said Harper.
‘Seriously, Lex, keep your head down. Let my guy do his thing first. Let’s work the databases before we start prowling the streets.’
Harper flicked ash on to the grass. ‘You’re right,’ he said.
‘I know I’m right. It’s what I do for a living.’
Harper shivered. ‘Why’s it so bloody cold?’ he asked.
‘The weather’s been funny all year,’ said Shepherd. ‘We had snow right through March.’
‘So much for global warming.’
‘They call it climate change now,’ said Shepherd. ‘And there’s no doubt that there’s something funny going on with our weather.’
‘Yeah, well, I’ll be glad to get back to Thailand.’ He winked at Shepherd. ‘You should come.’
‘Yeah, maybe. How is it these days?’
‘Full of Brits,’ Harper said. ‘And the Russians are moving in big-time. They pretty much run Phuket already and they’re taking over Pattaya.’
‘How so?’
‘Russian mafia, mate. They’re vicious bastards. They’ve even got clubs with Russian go-go dancers and the cops just let them get on with it.’ He grinned. ‘The best police force money can buy. But they’re moving into property, big-time. Drugs. Counterfeit medicines, counterfeit anything. The Thais are terrified of them. Get into an argument with a Russkie and …’ He made a gun with his hand. ‘Bang, bang.’
‘But not a problem for you, right?’
‘I get on with everyone, mate. You know that. But it’s changed a lot since you were there.’
‘Everything changes,’ said Shepherd. ‘The weather, people, places. Nothing stays the same.’
‘More’s the pity.’
Shepherd nodded. ‘Life does seem to get more complicated, doesn’t it? Back in Afghanistan, everything was black and white, pretty much. We were the good guys, the Taliban were the bad guys. They tried to kill us and we tried to kill them. You knew where you stood. Now we’ve got a Taliban killer living in London and I’m protecting a Russian mobster from a professional hitman.’
Harper turned to look at him. ‘Seriously?’
‘Can’t talk about it,’ said Shepherd. ‘Well, I can, but then I’d have to kill you.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I’ve got to go. Duty calls.’
Shepherd got back to his Hampstead flat at just after eight o’clock in the evening. He put the kettle on and had a quick shower while it boiled. Grechko was staying in all night and it was clear that security was tight at the mansion so there was nothing to be gained by Shepherd sleeping on the premises. He changed into a clean polo short and chinos, made himself a coffee and then called Charlotte Button. He apologised for calling so late but she cut him short. ‘I’m always on duty, you know that,’ she said. ‘And I guess it’s difficult to call when his security team are around.’
‘I wanted a chat about the attack on Grechko,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t investigated by the cops, was it?’
‘They weren’t informed until well after the event,’ said Button. ‘They drove the bodyguard who was hit to a private hospital and Grechko called the PM before the police were informed. To be honest it wouldn’t have made any difference, the sniper was a pro so he would have been long gone.’
‘Yeah, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,’ said Shepherd. ‘I was out there for a look-see with his security team.’
‘And?’
‘And there’s something not right. If as you said the guy is a pro, then I don’t see how he could have missed Grechko. As he came out of the stadium, he was a sitting duck.’
‘Snipers sometimes miss,’ said Button. ‘You must know that, what with your sniping experience and all that.’
‘Except he didn’t miss, he hit a bodyguard in the leg. The bullet wasn’t recovered, was it?’
‘The bullet went in and out. There was a search of the area carried out, but it was two days after and it didn’t turn up.’
‘That’s a pity. It might have given us a better idea of the type of weapon used. I’m not sure if it was a long-distance shot or not. There were plenty of vantage points within a mile, but it could have been done from a parked vehicle and that would have been a much closer shot.’
‘Why do you think that?’
‘The bodyguards didn’t hear a shot so that suggests that the gun was some distance away. But it could have had a suppressor on it, and then I started thinking about that sniper in Baltimore, the one who made his shots from the boot of a car.’
‘Why does it matter where he was?’ asked Button.
‘If he was a mile away then it’s understandable that he might have missed. There’d be big variations on air speed from high up to low down, plus updraughts from the stadium. It’d be a complicated shot so a miss wouldn’t be unexpected. But the thing is, professional killers don’t usually make shots when there’s a chance they might miss. Makes them look less than professional. But if he was closer then he shouldn’t have missed.’
‘Where are you going with this?’ asked Button.
‘The stadium was behind them and there were two cars in the road. The bullet hit the bodyguard in the back of the leg, so the cars being where they were, the sniper could only have fired from one direction. When he fired, Grechko was getting into the car and the bodyguard was in the way.’
‘So it was an accident. Grechko was lucky.’
‘If the sniper had made the shot earlier, the bodyguard wouldn’t have been in the way.’
‘What are you saying?’
Shepherd sighed. ‘I’m not sure. There’s just something not right about this. He hit the bodyguard in the leg. Are we supposed to believe that he was trying for a kill shot at Grechko and he missed by, what, five or six feet? And why did he wait until the bodyguard was between him and the target when if he’d fired earlier, he’d have had a clear shot?’
‘Are you saying that the sniper deliberately missed?’
‘Either that or he wanted to shoot the bodyguard. He hit the target he was aiming for.’
‘For what reason?’
‘That’s the question, isn’t it? And I’m afraid I don’t have the answer. But what’s the alternative, the world’s worst sniper is on Grechko’s case?’
‘What do his security team think?’
‘To be honest, I don’t think thinking is in their skill set. They’re not the brightest and I’m having to put a lot of work into getting them up to speed on the personal protection front. Look, how do we move forward on this? Presumably someone is trying to catch the sniper, right?’
‘We’re liaising with the Russian intelligence services and cross-referencing names with the immigration people,’ said Button. ‘We’re on the case.’
‘Because I really don’t want to spend the rest of my life babysitting a Russian oligarch,’ he said.
‘You won’t, I promise,’ said Button, and she ended the call.
Shepherd finished his coffee and then picked up his laptop and placed it on the coffee table. He booted it up and launched Skype. He smiled when he saw that Liam was online. He started a call and after a few rings Liam answered and his face filled the screen. ‘Hi, Dad,’ he said. He was growing his hair long and he flicked it out of his eyes.
‘Hey. Please tell me you’re doing homework on the computer and not playing around on Facebook or Twitter or whatever.’
‘Sure, if that’ll make you happy,’ said Liam. He grinned. ‘Only joking, Dad. We do a lot of our maths homework online now, I was just finishing it.’
‘Good lad. Everything OK?’
‘Sure. I’ve got a match on Saturday against a team from Rugby. That’s ironic, isn’t it? Football against Rugby?’