about, don’t you?’
‘We found a bloodstain belonging to Mr Fowler in the back of Mr Iversson’s car. That’s why.’
‘Really? Are you sure?’ I gave him a look that said of course I’m sure, I’m not sitting here making it up as I go along. ‘It’s just I’ve never heard of this bloke, and it doesn’t sound at all like Max. I mean, he’s a tough guy, I won’t deny that, but he’s no murderer.’
‘How do you know Mr Fowler’s been murdered?’
He fixed me with a moderately annoyed expression, the first time in both my meetings with him that he hadn’t looked like he was trying to help. ‘I don’t,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m guessing. But a substantial bloodstain in the back of a car … It doesn’t sound promising, does it?’
‘But you still don’t think Mr Iversson’s capable of murder?’ said Berrin, looking up from his notebook.
‘It’s certainly not in character,’ he said wearily. ‘But then again, it’s not in character for him to lash out at police officers either.’
‘Has he been acting at all strangely recently?’ I asked.
‘In what way?’
‘In a way that suggested that something might have been bothering him.’
‘We’re business partners but we don’t tend to socialize much outside work these days, and we certainly don’t talk like we used to. I’d say that at one time we were good friends, but ironically enough, since we’ve been in business, we’ve drifted apart. I haven’t noticed him acting particularly out of the ordinary lately but I’m not sure I’d have noticed if there had been something bothering him. He’s always been quite a cool customer. Someone who’s good at keeping his emotions to himself.’
We talked for another ten minutes, Berrin and I trying to squeeze out of him any possible motives Iversson might have had for killing Fowler, but he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, provide us with any further information. According to Riggs, Iversson was as normal as normal could be, totally above board, not one to get involved in anything dodgy. Or, even worse, to talk about it.
‘Have you heard anything from Eric Horne?’ I asked eventually.
‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Not a dickie bird.’
‘You don’t think he’s connected with all this, then?’ asked Berrin.
‘With all what?’ said Riggs. ‘I haven’t seen Eric in two weeks, maybe even longer. Long before Max went missing. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you any more than that.’
I got to my feet and Berrin followed suit. ‘Well, thank you for your time, Mr Riggs. If Max Iversson does make contact with you then I’d strongly suggest you advise him to give himself up. Because we’re after him, and we’re going to get him. And the longer he stays out there on the run, the more we’re going to assume he’s responsible for Roy Fowler’s disappearance, and possibly worse.’
‘I will,’ he said, leading us to the door. ‘I don’t want him getting in any more trouble than he’s already in.’
When we were back out on the street and walking along the Holloway Road in the direction of Highbury Corner, Berrin said that he wasn’t sure about Riggs. ‘He reminded me of what Fowler was like the first time we interviewed him,’ he said. ‘Very keen to help, but never actually said one thing that we could use.’
‘No, I know.’
‘Plus, I think he was lying. He was good at it, but I reckon he was definitely giving us the runaround. Especially that bit when he let slip about the murder.’
‘Do you think he knows what’s happened to Fowler, then?’
He nodded, thinking about it. ‘I got the impression he does. What about you?’
‘What I’m thinking is that every time we talk to someone about this case we seem to come up against a brick wall, with no one willing or able to help and not enough evidence to break the thing apart. I think it’s time we tried a new approach.’
‘What kind of new approach?’
‘I’m not sure,’ I told him, but I was beginning to get an idea.
Iversson
I was in bed with Elaine when the phone rang. It was five past two in the afternoon and we were taking a short break from one of those sex marathons you sometimes have when you’ve met a girl you’re really into and you’ve still got the sex drive to do something about it. To be honest with you, it had been like that all week. Great fun, yes, but parts of me were beginning to feel the strain. I was absolutely fucking cream crackered, and still only just past the panting stage from the last bout when Elaine picked up on the fourth ring and handed me the receiver. ‘Joe,’ she said.
‘All right, Joe, where are you calling from?’
‘A phone box in Tufnell Park, no trace possible. I’ve got two interested parties for our arrangement, men I think we can trust.’
‘That was quick.’
‘I had a good idea where I was going to look.’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘Yeah. You see plenty of people owe our man big time, which is what happens when you spend your days throwing your weight about and upsetting people.’
‘So, who are they?’
‘You know I told you about that jeweller, Kalinski, and his business arrangement with our man? The one who ended up at the maggot farm with his girlfriend? His brother Mike’s an ex-armed robber and someone with a grudge.’
‘Are you sure it’s a good idea to use someone we don’t know?’
‘I’ve got it from decent sources that he’s reliable. Plus, he’s greedy. Plus, they chopped up his brother, and they’re a close family. That’s enough pluses, as far as I can see.’
‘Fair enough. Who’s the other one?’
‘Iain Lewis, remember him?’
‘Christ, yeah. I didn’t think he was still alive.’
‘Alive, well, and short of money.’
Iain Lewis, Tugger to his mates for a reason best not gone into, was a Geordie ex-marine and mercenary who’d served with me and Joe on some of our more exotic overseas tours, and who’d been wounded in Bosnia fighting against Serb forces back in the early nineties. He’d be useful on this sort of job because the potential calibre of the opposition wouldn’t faze him.
‘Where’s he living now?’
‘Down in Swansea of all places, but he’ll be up here tomorrow. How are you getting on with your end of things? Have you talked to your mate Johnny yet?’
‘I saw him last night. He’s in already. I’ve dropped him five hundred in expenses and he’s going to sort out the vehicles. He’s meant to be calling me back later.’
‘But he doesn’t know anything about the targets?’
‘Not a thing.’
‘Good. Have you taken a look at any possible locations for storage?’
‘I drove out to Essex yesterday and visited a couple of letting agents.’
‘What cover did you use?’
‘I said I was a writer looking for a short let somewhere nice and isolated so I could complete my first novel in the peace and tranquillity I needed. It’s a thriller apparently.’
I heard Joe sigh down the phone. ‘Look, we’ve got a problem. The police have traced the stain on the seat of your car back to Fowler.’
This was bad news. ‘So?’ I said all casually, keen not to worry Elaine.
‘So now they’re really after you, although they still don’t have a clue about what’s happened. The thing is, if anyone who rents you out a place sees a picture of you anywhere, it could put the whole thing in jeopardy.’
‘Don’t worry, I wore specs, and I’ve got a bit of a beard now, so I don’t know how easy it’d be to make the connection.’
‘It’s still too risky, Max. You’re not exactly a master of disguise.’
