shook his head. ‘You’ve never smoked?’ she asked.
‘It’s a drug, the nicotine,’ he said. ‘I don’t have an addictive personality.’
‘Do you have any personality at all?’ she asked quickly.
Nelson raised an eyebrow. ‘Is something on your mind, Angie?’
She looked out of the side window. Charlie had said he would be close by, listening to everything she said. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was there. ‘When will you do it?’ she asked, still looking out of the window.
‘Wednesday maybe. Or Friday, if you’re not going to the club. I’ll call you in advance to give you a chance to get your alibi fixed. The casino’s still the best bet. So make sure your mobile’s on.’
Sweat was beading on Angie’s forehead. She took out a tissue and dabbed herself with it.
‘You’re going to have to relax,’ said Nelson. ‘At some point the police are going to talk to you.’
‘I’ll be okay.’
‘You’d better be because they’ll be looking for signs that there’s anything fishy.’
‘Even with my alibi?’
‘The cops aren’t stupid,’ said Nelson, ‘but if you keep calm, they’ll have to believe you.’
Angie took a deep breath. She couldn’t go to the police because she didn’t know if she could trust them. But Nelson was a hired gun, whose sole motivation was money. Provided she paid him enough, she could trust him.
‘Do you have a gun, Tony?’
‘Of course I’ve got a gun.’
‘I mean now? In the car?’
‘Why?’
Angie took a long pull on her cigarette. Charlie was listening so she had only one chance, and she needed an immediate answer from Nelson. They’d have to drive – and drive fast. She’d throw the transmitter out of the car and they’d have to leave Manchester. But how much money would a man like Nelson need to become her protector? Five hundred pounds a day? A thousand? The only money she had was in joint accounts and it wouldn’t take Charlie long to close them. And he would cancel her credit cards. She had her watch and her jewellery, but once those were gone she’d have nothing. What could she offer him? He hadn’t shown the slightest interest in her as a woman. She was a client, nothing more. The only thing he’d ever expressed an interest in was her money.
A white van drove into the car park and headed towards them. Angie opened the passenger side window and blew smoke out of the car. ‘Sorry,’ she said.
‘It doesn’t bother me,’ said Nelson. He was looking at the white van. He put his gloved hands back on the steering-wheel.
‘I keep trying to give up, but sometimes I just need a smoke, you know?’
‘I guess so.’
The van was slowing. Angie looked at Nelson. If she was going to ask him, she’d have to do it now. If he said no, she was finished. She took another pull on the cigarette. She was finished anyway. Charlie had killed Larry. He was going to kill Nelson. And she knew everything, which meant he’d kill her. Eventually. He’d kill her in the wine cellar, wrap her in a sheet of polythene and bury her somewhere, then shack up with one of the teenage waitresses from the club. Charlie was using her now to get Nelson, but once he had Nelson he’d have no further use for her. Not after what she’d tried to do. And what she knew. She had no choice. She had to run.
‘Tony?’ she said, her heart pounding.
‘Yes?’ He turned to her, his hands still on the steering-wheel.
She opened her mouth to speak but before she could say anything the white van screeched to a halt and the back doors were flung open. Four men dressed in black, waving handguns, jumped out and surrounded the car. ‘Armed police!’ shouted one. ‘Keep your hands where they are.’
‘It’s the police!’ shouted Angie.
‘Just do as they say,’ said Nelson, calmly.
‘Oh, Christ, I’m dead,’ said Angie.
‘Armed police!’ shouted another officer.
Slowly Angie raised her hands.‘Don’t shoot,please don’t shoot,’ she whispered.
An officer yanked open the door on the driver’s side and pointed his weapon at Nelson’s head. ‘Keep your hands on the steering-wheel where I can see them,’ he said.
‘I’m not moving,’ said Nelson.
Another officer opened the door on Angie’s side with his left hand while keeping the gun in his right aimed at her head. ‘Hands in the air, don’t make any sudden moves!’ he shouted.
Two officers were standing at the front of the Volvo, both hands on their weapons, one aiming at Nelson, the other at her.
Two police cars roared into the car park and pulled up on either side of the white van. Uniformed officers piled out of the cars and stood waiting for the armed police to finish their job. They were followed by two dark saloons each containing three big men in plain clothes, cheap suits and dark raincoats.
Angie’s hands were shaking. She looked at Nelson. The armed officer grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pulled him out of the Volvo. ‘I’m sorry,’ said Angie. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘What the hell is this?’ said Kerr. In the distance an armed policeman was pointing a gun at Nelson who was on his knees by the side of the Volvo. Another cop was pulling Angie out of the car.
‘Cops,’ said Anderson. He was sitting in the front of the Range Rover, with Wates in the passenger seat.
‘I can see it’s the fucking cops, shit-for-brains. What the hell are they doing here?’
One of the cops used a plastic tie to bind Nelson’s wrists behind his back, then he was hauled to his feet and over to one of the police cars.
‘Shall we do a runner?’ asked Anderson.
‘Sit tight,’ said Kerr. ‘We’re far enough away. If it was anything to do with us there’d be armed cops here too.’
The cops made Angie stand against the Volvo with her hands on the roof as they patted her down. A uniformed inspector walked up to her and said something to her. Kerr had the receiver in his lap but the cop was too far away from the transmitter for him to hear what was said. He was probably giving her the caution in case she said something stupid on the drive back to the station.
Another officer used a plastic tie to bind her wrists, then took her to one of the patrol cars. He helped her get into the back and slammed the door. The armed police were returning to the white van, laughing and joking.
A plain-clothes officer in a dark blue raincoat took the ignition keys out of the Volvo and locked the car.
‘What’s on your mind, boss?’ asked Anderson.
‘I’m just wondering who the cops were there for.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Anderson.
‘Were they there for Angie or Nelson?’
‘Does it matter?’
Kerr sighed. Of course it mattered, but there was no point in explaining it to Anderson or Wates. If they were there to arrest a hired killer and his wife had been caught up as an innocent bystander, that was one thing. But if they had arrested Angie and Nelson for conspiring to kill him, it was another. Something wasn’t right, but Kerr couldn’t work out what it was. He was getting a headache.
‘Let’s just sit here for a while, boys,’ he said. ‘We’ll see what develops.’
The two patrol cars drove out of the car park, followed by the dark saloons. The armed cops climbed into the back of the white van, then it, too, drove away, heading in the opposite direction to the patrol cars.
Kerr lit a cigarette and stared at the Volvo. It was almost as if it had never happened, as if it had been a figment of his imagination. A huddle of customers stood at the entrance to the supermarket, staring after the patrol cars and gossiping, but after a few minutes they went inside. A blue Transit van drove out of the car park. Kerr blew smoke, and frowned. Something was lurking on the edge of his consciousness but every time he tried to focus on it, it evaporated. It was like grabbing mist.
Shepherd sat in the back of the patrol car. There were two uniformed cops in the front and a plainclothes detective on his right. He said nothing. He didn’t know if the cops knew he was an undercover officer, but reckoned they probably didn’t. As far as they were concerned he was Tony Nelson, hitman for hire, and he preferred it that
