Mayer’s office. ‘Come out, come out, wherever you are,’ he whispered.
Marie got out, fed the meter, and climbed back into the Rover. ‘Of course, Cramer might not be in there,’ she said.
‘He’s in there,’ said Lynch. ‘I know he’s in there.’
‘What about something to eat? A sandwich or something?’
Lynch shook his head. He rubbed the back of his neck. His whole body seemed to be aching. It felt as if he’d been sitting in the car for months. ‘Maybe a coffee,’ he said.
‘Tired?’
‘Knackered.’
‘It’s just after five, the offices should start emptying soon. I’ll get you a coffee before the rush starts.’
She was reaching for the door handle when Lynch sat bolt upright. ‘Wait,’ he said.
Marie’s hand jerked away from the handle as if she’d received an electric shock. ‘What?’
‘Look.’ Lynch nodded at the office block. A Mercedes had pulled up and the driver, a large man in a dark blue suit and a peaked cap, was getting out.
‘That’s the same car they had in Wales,’ said Marie.
‘Same type. Different registration number. But that’s the driver all right.’ He started the engine. ‘Keep the map out. Rush hour isn’t the best time to be tailing someone in London.’
Lynch pulled away from the kerb and indicated that he wanted to turn right. He had to make sure he didn’t get stuck in the side road when the Mercedes drove off. A middle-aged woman in a battered MGB flashed her headlights and Lynch nudged the Rover into the traffic. The only place he could find to park was on a double yellow line but he didn’t think he’d have to wait long so he pulled in and watched the Mercedes in his driving mirror. Marie twisted around in her seat to watch the building itself.
‘Oh shit,’ said Lynch under his breath. A black traffic warden was walking towards them, notebook in hand. He was about fifty feet away.
‘The driver’s gone inside,’ said Marie.
Lynch drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. The traffic warden was heading purposefully towards the Rover. Marie opened the door. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’ll talk to him,’ she said. She got out of the car and walked towards the traffic warden, smiling and waving the street directory. She said something to the man and showed him the map. Smart girl, thought Lynch, but he doubted whether the ruse would buy them more than a minute or two. The traffic warden took the map from Marie and began talking to her and pointing down the road.
Lynch turned to look through the back window of the Rover. The door to the block opened but it was a young woman who came out. ‘Come on, come on,’ Lynch muttered. He felt exposed and vulnerable, sitting on the double yellow lines with a traffic warden only yards away. There were no other parking spaces nearby and if they had to drive off they’d have to double back, and that could take ages in the heavy traffic. The door to the office block opened again and the driver came out. He stood at the entrance, looking left and right, and then held it open. Another big man came out wearing a dark grey suit, and Lynch recognised him immediately: it was the man he’d seen walking with Cramer in the grounds of the school in Wales.
Marie was still talking to the traffic warden. Lynch didn’t want to risk sounding his horn, even though the street was bustling with vehicles and pedestrians. He flashed his headlights a couple of times and she waved at him before spotting the two men. Marie took the map from the traffic warden, said something to him and then walked quickly back to the Rover. Lynch kept his eyes glued to the driving mirror. A third man came out. Lynch’s eyes narrowed. It was Cramer. He was carrying an aluminium briefcase.
Marie got into the Rover and closed the door. The traffic warden was still walking towards them. Marie wound down her window and gave him a wide smile. ‘Thanks for your help,’ she called, waving the map at him. He walked by, but looked over his shoulder. ‘You’re going to have to go,’ Marie whispered. ‘He’s watching us.’
‘Pretend to give me directions,’ Lynch said. Marie leaned over and made a show of holding the map in front of him as he kept an eye on the rear-view mirror. The three men were getting into the Mercedes. The two large men moved efficiently, and as he watched Lynch realised how cleverly they were shielding Cramer. The young Oriental girl came out of the office block and opened the rear door of the Mercedes herself. Marie continued to point at the map and nod her head. Lynch nodded as if agreeing with her. In the mirror he saw the traffic warden walking away. ‘Okay, he’s going,’ said Lynch.
The Mercedes drove away from the kerb. As it drew level with the Rover, Lynch turned his head away. He let a couple of cars go by and then edged the Rover into the traffic. Marie had the map open on her lap and she kept looking at it as Lynch followed the Mercedes. The traffic was moving slowly and while Lynch wasn’t worried about the Mercedes getting away, he wanted to stay fairly close in case he got held up by traffic lights.
A taxi forced itself in front of Lynch and he cursed. ‘He’s turning left,’ said Marie.
Lynch indicated and followed the Mercedes down the side road. The Mercedes made another two turns in quick succession. For a brief moment Lynch wondered if the driver had spotted them, but then the Mercedes drove straight on for almost half a mile. Lynch allowed two vehicles to overtake but kept reasonably close.
‘Fulham,’ said Marie. ‘They’re heading for Fulham. They could be crossing the river.’
‘If they’re driving back to Wales I’ll be really pissed off,’ said Lynch through clenched teeth.
‘No, they’re going north-east. If they were going to Wales they’d be heading west to the M4.’
They drove by antique shops full of gilded furniture and extravagant light fittings, then past a football stadium. ‘Chelsea,’ said Marie. ‘It’s where Chelsea play.’
The traffic had thinned out and Lynch hung back, giving the Mercedes plenty of space. There was little chance of losing it; the driver was sticking religiously to the speed limit.
‘I think we’ve got a tail,’ said Martin, glancing in his rear-view mirror.
Su-ming began to turn around but Cramer reached over and took her hand. ‘Don’t look around,’ he said. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked Martin.
‘I noticed it about five minutes ago, but this is the best way to Chelsea Harbour so it might be coincidence. Two people, one’s a woman, I think.’
‘Our man usually works alone,’ said Allan.
‘Yeah, but not always,’ said Cramer. ‘Remember the Kypriano killing? Someone else was in the boat that picked him up. And there’ve been other cases where he’s had someone driving a getaway car.’
Allan turned his head and surreptitiously moved the wing mirror so that he could see directly behind the Mercedes. ‘The metallic grey Rover?’
‘That’s the one,’ said Martin. ‘It’s not one of ours, is it?’
‘No, it’s bloody well not. And if it was, I’d have their balls on toast. Can you make out the registration number?’
‘Too far away,’ Martin replied. ‘Shall I lose them?’
Allan looked at him scornfully. ‘If we lose them, they’ll know we’re onto them. That’s not what we’re trying to achieve here, right?’
‘I was joking, Allan,’ said Martin.
‘Slow down, see if we can get the number.’
‘I guess I should do that without braking, right?’ Martin flashed a grin at Allan and took his foot off the accelerator.
Allan watched the Rover in the mirror. ‘He’s slowing too.’
The driver of the black taxi behind them beeped his horn impatiently. Martin accelerated again.
‘Drive to the apartment,’ said Allan. ‘They can’t do anything while we’re in the car. Let’s see what happens when we get to Chelsea Harbour.’
Cramer smiled at Su-ming. ‘It’ll be okay,’ he said. She nodded, unconvinced. Cramer realised that he was still holding her hand. He released his grip and folded his arms. ‘It might not be him,’ he said.
‘They’re still there,’ said Martin.
Cramer squeezed his arms. He could feel the gun in its holster pressing against his ribs but wasn’t reassured by its presence.
Martin turned onto the road that led to Chelsea Harbour, his eyes flicking between the rear-view mirror and the way ahead. ‘He’s indicating,’ he said. ‘Yeah, here he comes. Still too far away to get the registration.’
