'Let's do it in the car.' McNaughton nodded towards the exit doors.
'This is mad.'
McNaughton's Golf was parked next to the fence. Faraday got into the back, making space for himself amongst a litter of scuba magazines. A travel brochure caught his eye, a specialist company he'd never heard of.
'Galapagos, boss.' McNaughton had twisted himself round in the driver's seat. 'Three weeks in May for two and a half grand. Ten days diving guaranteed. Turtle heaven.' He paused. 'You OK, sir?'
'Me?' Faraday looked at him in surprise.
'Yeah… It's just you look…' He shook his head, embarrassed now. 'Forget it.' He glanced across at Wallace. 'Yer man here's got some news.'
Wallace offered Faraday a chip.
'He phoned up this morning, first thing, Mackenzie. Gave me the name of a hotel, the Solent Palace.'
'When?'
'Sunday. He wants to buy me lunch. Thinks I'm coming down from London.'
'Time?'
'Half twelve in the Vanguard Bar.'
'But you're definitely eating as well?'
'That's what he's saying. Apparently there's a two-for-one offer on all month. It's a car very He thinks I'll love it. Real food, mush.
None of yer nouvelle muck.' The Pompey accent drew a grin from McNaughton.
Faraday made a note. The Solent Palace was one of the bigger hotels on the se afront a Victorian pile in red brick with sensational views across the Common towards the Isle of Wight. The last time Faraday had been there was a year or so back, a formal dinner for a visiting police chief and his team from Caen. The food had been appalling, though the French, to their credit, hadn't turned a hair.
'The restaurant's at the front on the first floor,' Faraday said. 'How do we want to play this?'
'That's down to you, your call.' Wallace finished the last chip and wiped his fingers on a towel he'd found in the foot well 'This car's a doss, Terry. What do you do, kip in it?'
'Only when my luck's in.' He was still looking at Faraday. 'What are we doing for back-up, sir?'
'There isn't any. Or not much.'
'You're serious?' McNaughton was responsible for Wallace's physical safety.
'Yes.' Faraday nodded. 'My boss is paranoid about security. Doesn't want to risk it.'
'Risk what?'
'Compromising the operation. He thinks we're half-blown already and he's probably right.'
'Tomorrow, you mean? The meet with Mackenzie?'
'No. The rest of it. Apparently, my lot plotted a hard stop back before Christmas. Should have netted a load of cocaine but they found nothing. That's why he's kept tomorrow so tight.'
'Thank fuck for that.'
'Exactly. The downside is back-up. I gather he's thinking himself, me, and you.'
'In the hotel?'
'Probably not. I'll recce the place tomorrow, but there's no way Mackenzie would have chosen it unless he knew the management, which means there's no way we can install cameras. Mackenzie's plugged in everywhere, as you know.' Faraday was drawing a diagram on his notepad. 'My guess is a couple of cars across the road, line of sight from the restaurant, say a hundred metres max if we get there early.'
'He wants a transmitter?'
'Plus a recorder. Both ends.'
'That's no problem. We've got a dinky little Nagra in on appro, recorder transmitter all one unit. Plus a receiver recorder for one of the cars, plus the Olympus for stills, and we've cracked it.' He frowned. 'Doesn't solve the back-up, though.'
'Don't worry.' Wallace was watching a pretty young mother steering her infant daughter towards a nearby sports car. 'Worst that can happen, he shakes me down. I'm Jack the Lad, never go anywhere without a wire.'
'You think he'll buy that?'
'Haven't a clue, but you just keep talking, don't you?' The young mum was bending over the sports car, strapping her daughter into a child seat. 'What happens if he changes his mind about the hotel? Rings me with another r/v couple of minutes before the off?'
'You bell us.'
'And what if we meet at this place and he carts me off elsewhere?'
'We follow. And you keep talking.'
'OK.' He shrugged. 'Sounds sweet to me.'
The mother was climbing into the sports car now, smoothing down her skirt as she shot Wallace a smile. Faraday wanted to know what else Mackenzie had said on the phone.
'He was fine. Just said he wasn't fucking me around.'
'What did that mean?'
'He meant it was worth my while to make the trip down. Offered to show me the sights, too, if I was arsed.'
'What sights?' McNaughton started to laugh.
'He didn't say.' Wallace ignored McNaughton. 'As far as I'm concerned, the story's simple. I've got a thousand deals on the go and the last thing I'm up for is half the afternoon poking round the Victory. He knows that. I've told him. Baz, I said, it's a quick bite and you have your say. Then I'm back to town. That's one good reason we'll be staying at the hotel. If he starts to fuck around, I'm out of there.'
'It's Baz, is it?'
'Yeah, has been the last couple of calls. Old mates, we are. Same game.'
'You mean that?' Faraday at last felt his spirits begin to rise.
'Too right. The bloke's sharp as a tack. You can tell. Funny, too.
He doesn't buy all the tosh about shopping developments in the Gulf for a moment, probably never has. As far as he's concerned, I'm the opposition. And we're not just talking Spit Bank.'
'You think he'll come across with an offer?'
'Yes.'
'Money?'
'Maybe, though I doubt it. These blokes hate parting with dosh. If there's a better way, he'll find it.'
'Threats?'
'No, he'll like to think he's classier than that.'
'What then?'
'Dunno.' He flashed Faraday a sudden smile. 'Stay tuned, eh?'
It was Cathy Lamb's decision to evacuate Dave Pullen to what she called 'a place of safety'. Between them, Winter and Suttle cut through the cable ties, threw Pullen a T-shirt and a pair of filthy jeans, and pushed him towards the bathroom to clean himself up. As soon as two other members of the squad had driven down from Kingston Crescent to babysit the flat in case the Scousers turned up, Winter and Suttle would escort Pullen to Central police station where, Winter explained, the Custody Sergeant had volunteered an empty cell.
The two DCs turned up shortly after two. Winter briefed them in the curtained lounge. Shortly afterwards, as he and Suttle stepped out into the gloom of the upstairs landing with Pullen, Winter heard a yell from one of the DCs. Five seconds in Pullen's bedroom had wrecked his entire afternoon.
'There's bleach in the kitchen cupboard,' Winter shouted back. 'We might be some time.'
Out on the street, it dawned on Pullen that Winter meant it about Central.
'No way,' he said, starting to struggle free.
Winter gave him a look, told him it was in his own best interests.
Until the Scousers were off the plot, he should resign himself to a little protective custody. When Pullen refused to get in the car, Winter arrested him.
'Why?'
'Suspicion of kidnap and assault. Bloody do as you're told.' He told Suttle to fetch the handcuffs from the
