‘And then you worked at a shoe factory?’ There was a reference letter from the manager, who said that Katra had been a diligent worker and that after six months he had promoted her from the production line to the quality- control department.
‘My father had an accident at the steel mill so I went to work.’
‘You were working and taking care of your family?’
‘The boys were older so they helped. It wasn’t so hard.’ She sipped her water.
‘Miss Malcolm explained my situation?’
‘She said you are a widower and you have a young son.’
Widower. It was the first time Shepherd had heard himself described like that. It sounded Victorian, as if he should have been wearing a frock coat and top hat. But it was what he was. A man whose wife had died.
‘Where is your boy?’ asked Katra.
‘Liam is with his grandparents. I’m on my way to see him now. I need someone who can take him to and from school. You can drive, right?’
‘My father taught me. I have a licence.’
‘An international licence?’
Katra nodded.
‘And I need someone to do laundry, clean the house and cook.’
‘You need a wife,’ she said.
At first Shepherd thought she was being funny or sarcastic, then realised she was not, just factual. It was exactly what he needed. He needed Sue. ‘You’re right,’ he said.
‘I can take care of you both,’ she said. ‘I cook good.’
‘I bet you do,’ he said. He glanced at his watch. ‘Look, what are you doing today?’
‘I come to see you. Then Miss Malcolm said I should call her. That is all I do today.’
‘Where are you staying?’
‘I share a room in a house in Battersea,’ she said. ‘Some Slovenian girls who have been here for a year are letting me stay with them until I have a job. One hundred pounds a week. That’s good, no?’
It seemed expensive to Shepherd, but he smiled and said that it sounded like a good deal. ‘Why don’t you come with me? We’ll go and see Liam.’
She beamed up at him. ‘I have the job?’
Shepherd looked at her. His life often depended on his ability to read people, and he trusted his instincts. Katra seemed open, honest and without guile. ‘Let’s see how you get on with my son first.’
Katra grabbed him around the waist and hugged him, then released him and apologised. ‘I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m so happy.’
Shepherd couldn’t stop a grin.‘Let’s see what Liam thinks,’ he said. ‘He’ll be spending more time with you than I will.’ He picked up his car keys and tossed them to her. ‘You can drive. It’ll give me a chance to see how you handle the car.’
‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
‘Hereford. It’s near Wales. Over to the west.’
She frowned. ‘Do I need a visa? I have my passport but my visa is for the United Kingdom only.’
Shepherd laughed. ‘No, love, you don’t need a visa for Wales.’
He told her to get the car started while he fetched his bag. As he went into the bedroom he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He was smiling, and felt guilty suddenly, as if he had been disloyal in some way to Sue. He sighed. ‘She’ll be good for Liam, love,’ he whispered. ‘She’ll make him laugh. She might even bring some happiness back into the house. God knows, we could do with some.’ He picked up his overnight bag, then went downstairs and locked up.
The engine was running as he climbed into the CRV. Katra was already wearing her seatbelt. He fastened his. ‘Let’s go then,’ he said. ‘You can tell me the story of your life as you drive.’
Wates rolled Hendrickson’s body over on the plastic sheeting. Kerr pointed to a severed toe. ‘You’ve missed a bit, lads,’ he said.
Anderson picked it up, tossed it next to the body and grimaced. ‘What’s the story, boss?’ he asked.
‘Wait until it’s dark and bury it where it’ll never be found. If we knew where the partner was we could bury them together.’
‘What’s the plan about this Nelson guy?’
‘We’ll have a word in his shell-like. Find out what the score is.’
‘Can I say something, boss?’ Anderson looked pained.
‘What the hell’s crawled up your arse and died?’ said Kerr.
‘This is not a good idea, that’s all, you taking this personal.’
‘For fuck’s sake, Eddie, this guy was talking to my wife about putting a bullet in my head.’
‘I don’t mean him. I mean Nelson.’
‘I’ve got to find out what he’s up to. Angie’s given him fifteen grand and he’s not made a move, but he’s pissing around sending emails under a dead guy’s name. That’s a mystery and I hate mysteries.’
‘You’ve always said, right from the first time I started with you, that you never go near the gear or the money. You let Muppets take the risk, you take the reward.’
‘The Gospel according to Charlie Kerr,’ said Kerr.
‘Right, so why are you taking risks with this? What you did to Hendrickson, that was fair enough, he came to your house. But this Nelson, if you’re going to do something, why do it yourself? There’s guys who’d do it for you as a favour, you know that.’
‘Because this is personal, Eddie.’ Anderson still looked uncomfortable. Kerr patted him on the shoulder. ‘It’ll be easy-peasy,’ he said. ‘Angie’ll make a call to arrange a meet and when he turns up we’ll play
Shepherd and Katra arrived in Hereford as the sun was dipping below the horizon. The traffic had been heavy, with holidaymakers heading to Wales for the weekend, and there had been long tail-backs. Shepherd had been impressed by Katra’s driving. She accelerated smoothly and used her mirrors constantly. He had felt relaxed with her at the wheel and knew he could trust her with Liam in the car.
He gave her directions to Moira’s house, and on the way briefed her on what to expect from his in-laws. With the best will in the world Moira was certain to view Katra as an interloper and would probably give her a hard time. Tom would be more easy-going but he wouldn’t be comfortable with a stranger taking care of his grandson. ‘Just be yourself,’ concluded Shepherd. ‘They won’t be fooled by flattery. I tried that when I first met them.’ He shuddered at the memory. ‘Shot me down in flames.’
He’d worn a suit and tie and smiled so much that his face had ached. He had seen the suspicion in Moira’s eyes as soon as he told them he served with the Special Air Service. There was constant friction between the Regiment and the locals, especially in the town’s drinking establishments. The SAS lads needed to blow off steam from time to time, and the local men weren’t happy that the town’s girls made a beeline for the super-fit, self- confident soldiers. Evidently Moira wasn’t going to allow Shepherd to take her beloved daughter without a fight, and her interrogation was as bad as anything he’d faced on his selection week.
Her observations had echoed the views of Shepherd’s own parents when he had told them he wanted to drop out of university, although she had made her point more succinctly. Why would anybody give up a promising academic career for a job whose ultimate aim was to kill people?
Shepherd had drunk a couple of glasses of Tom’s best whiskey and tried to explain that being in the SAS wasn’t about killing people, it was about being the best of the best. It was about testing yourself to breaking point, and defending your country, standing up against the bullies of the world be they terrorists or dictatorships. He never convinced Moira, but he won over Tom. And while they’d both been dubious about an SAS trooper courting their daughter, it was clear that they respected his honesty.
Katra parked the CRV in front of Moira and Tom’s house and looked up at it. ‘It’s nice,’ she said. ‘Well cared- for.’
‘Yeah, she’s house-proud, is Moira,’ said Shepherd.
‘What shall I call her?’
‘Mrs Wintour,’ said Shepherd. ‘Her husband is Tom but you’d better call him Mr Wintour unless he says otherwise.’
