In the dark room, looking at the windows on a monitor, they listened to a phone ringing. It went on, on, ten, fifteen seconds, it rang out, became a buzz. It began again, ringing…
Yeah?
Wake-up call, mate.
Fuck off.
Listen, listen, some worries. Serious.
What?
Old girl’s, call you on that in five, okay?
Yeah, okay, right.
Clicks.
‘What’s that about?’ Kiely’s voice.
‘Got the caller?’ said Villani.
‘Mobile,’ said Jerry. ‘Won’t get anywhere.’
The voice in Villani’s head.
Old girl’s, call you on that in five, okay?
Old girl? Old girl?
Kiely said, ‘Laser’ll be…’
‘Kidd’s aunt,’ said Villani. ‘Mrs Hocking. Run her for mobiles, the hotline.’
‘Right.’
They waited.
The sitting room lit up.
A big naked man in the room, scratching his scalp with both hands, then his chest, his right hand went to his groin.
Birkerts said, ‘Himself. The target.’
The man was going to the kitchen counter, they saw his bodybuilder’s wedge back, the muscular canyon of his spine, he was turning, they saw him side on.
‘My Jesus,’ said Birkerts. ‘Like a low branch. He’s dialling…do we have this?’
‘No,’ said Jerry.
Villani said, ‘The fixed line, Jerry?’
‘Too far away.’
‘I understood we’d have the laser by now,’ said Birkerts. ‘The highest tech known to man.’
‘Mr Kiely?’ said Villani.
‘Check that,’ said Kiely. ‘Want me to brief Mr Colby?’
‘Just get the fucking laser here. The Prado’s tagged?’
‘Elephant on the move,’ said Birkerts.
Kidd leaving the room.
‘Small arse,’ said Birkerts, thoughtful.
Three seconds, bedroom light, the vertical blinds opened, they saw Kidd sliding a window.
‘But a jockstrap designed for Phar Lap,’ said Birkerts.
Vision sliced by blinds, they watched the man moving around, pulling on clothes, sitting on the bed, shoes going on.
‘No shower,’ said Birkerts. ‘This isn’t date behaviour. Prado wired?’
‘Inspector Kiely to confirm that,’ said Villani.
It was dawning that this was a bad mistake. Colby and Kiely were right. He should have sent in the SOGs. If they lost Kidd now, it would be his fault, his alone.
Kidd up, leaving the bedroom.
‘Brush teeth, take a piss,’ said Birkerts. ‘I would…Jesus Christ, who’s this?’
A figure in the sitting room, slim, long hair.
Going to the kitchen, ducking behind the counter, just the top of his head visible.
‘Flatmate?’ said Villani. ‘Boyfriend?’
Standing up, T-shirt, coming around the counter, hands behind his back, torso wriggling.
‘What’s he doing?’ said Birkerts.
‘Could be a piece,’ said Villani. ‘Inside-pants holster. Here’s Kidd.’
Kidd and the man talking, Kidd’s right hand in the air. The second man had a long nose.
Villani became aware of someone else in the dark room with them. Tomasic.
Kiely’s voice. ‘Problem with the tag. Some misunderstanding.’
‘Misunderstanding?’ Villani said. ‘What the fuck’s to misunderstand?’
‘Didn’t quite get the urgency.’ ‘Jesus Christ.’
It was too late but this was the moment.
‘I want the SOGs now,’ Villani said. ‘Highest priority.’
‘Well, that’s a…’
‘Just do it, inspector. Now.’
‘These blokes might be going out,’ said Birkerts. ‘Are we ready for that?’
‘Inspector Kiely?’ said Villani.
‘They say they’re stretched, thought they had more time.’
Villani said, ‘Three dead’s not a priority? I’ll personally kill every last cunt if we lose them.’
The second man left the room. Kidd silhouetted against the kitchen light. His head slightly turned, they could see his profile, the heavy ridge above his eyes. He was talking on a mobile, putting it away, crossing the room, sliding open the balcony door, going to the railing, looking at the street, putting his hands behind his head, moving his torso from side to side.
‘Go down,’ said Villani.
The street, nothing moving.
‘Up.’
Kidd rubbing his face with both hands, his scalp, looking at his watch, going inside, closing the door, leaving the sitting room. Out of sight.
‘Not going out, I’d say,’ said Birkerts.
They watched the empty rooms. Villani felt the tightness in his scalp, around his mouth. Something wasn’t right.
‘Don’t like this,’ he said.
They waited. A minute. Two.
Villani knew. ‘Fucking gone,’ he said.
Just walked out their own front door and no one there.
Get there before the Prado took off, that was all they could do.
‘Have to be our own SOGs,’ he said.
He went for the door, for the stairs, heard Winter and Tomasic behind him.
THEY CROSSED half a block down.
He sent Tomasic to go around the block, stopper the lane. Winter following, he walked down the street, ran up the narrow driveway of Kidd’s building, stopped before the corner, looked around it, one-eyed.
Two security lights lit the small parking area, perhaps a dozen cars, the Prado at the end, a high wall at the back.
Not gone. They were still in the building.
Villani drew the Glock. His mouth was dry. ‘I’ll take the door,’ he said. ‘You take the fire escape.’
Winter said, ‘Boss.’
Villani went to move and then the back door came open and a figure jumped the three steps, a big man, big upper body.
Kidd.
Villani shouted:
‘POLICE! DON’T MOVE!’
Kidd turned his head, kept going, Villani sighted on him, two hands.
Greg Quirk came into his mind. He didn’t fire.
A gun in Kidd’s hand, left-handed, that had not been noticed. Scarlet-violet muzzle blinks, two, three, whines off the wall above them, Villani was off balance.
Kidd running across the space, moving lightly for a big man, Villani tried to sight on him again, he was heading for the lane, changed direction, made a clean jump onto a car bonnet, seemed to trampoline, put both hands on the top of the wall. He heaved himself up, got his right leg over.
Gone.
To Winter, Villani said, ‘Tell them target over back wall, we’re following.’
He ran, holstering, climbed onto the bonnet of a VW, it was Laurie’s model, he registered that, clambered onto the cab.
Madness. Not the movies, this was SOG work.
He jumped for the wall, pulled himself up.
No Kidd.
A narrow back yard, a wall of glass, no light in the house, a long lap pool, it glowed the green of the inside of a high-summer wave.
Go over?
He was scared. But he had fucked this thing up and all that remained was not to show fear.
Never take a backward step, son. Bad for the soul.
Kidd wouldn’t be hanging around, Kidd would be running, trying to get as far away as possible, pick up a car, there was nothing to fear here.
Villani swung over. He hurt his balls, hung, dropped a good metre, hard landing, his knees gave, he lost balance, fell over backwards, rolled, the gun pressed into his lower ribs.
He got to his feet, took the gun out of the spring clip, went along the pool edge. How did Kidd get out of here? The building occupied the whole block, wall to wall, there was a roll-up door to the right, that would give access from the street, a garage with doors at each end.
A slightly open steel door to the right of the garage. There was a way out.
Villani ran for the exit, knelt against the garage wall and pulled the door open, tensed against the bullet.