got home. The way things were going, he was seeing as little of his son as he was when Liam was in Hereford with his grandparents. The sooner he got on the day shift the better, because then he could spend the evenings with him. Help him with his homework. Read him a story. Do some real father-and-son stuff.
He heard car doors open and turned. Two men were in the road, staring at him, a black Range Rover behind them. Shepherd experienced a surge of adrenaline as he recognised them. Charlie Kerr and Ray Wates. And they had guns.
Rose banged on his horn. He was reacting instinctively, not caring who the men were or why they had guns. All he knew was that Stu Marsden was in danger and he had to help. Ahead of him, the first man out of the Range Rover was bringing his gun to bear on the Toyota.
Shepherd bent down and groped under the front passenger seat for his SIG-Sauer. As he sat up again he saw Kerr turning to look at the rear of the Toyota. He heard a horn blare and an engine roar. He pushed open the door.
Kerr heard the car roar up behind them, then a squeal of brakes. He swore. Some interfering busybody was about to get what was coming to them if they weren’t careful. He pointed the gun at the car and gestured with it so that the driver could see he was armed. Most people pissed themselves at the sight of a gun. In another life Kerr had been an armed robber and he’d only ever had to fire his gun once in anger. Banks, post offices, jewellers, it didn’t matter: as soon as he produced a shooter everyone dived for cover.
As Shepherd opened the Toyota’s door,Wates swung round the shotgun, but he was too slow. Shepherd whipped the barrel of the SIG-Sauer across his face and heard the cheekbone crack. Wates didn’t go down, though, and he brought the gun up again. Shepherd grabbed at the shotgun with his left hand and brought his knee up into Wates’s stomach. Wates doubled over, blood streaming from the cut on his cheek. Shepherd brought the butt of the gun down on the side of his head and kicked the shotgun under the Range Rover. Wates slumped to the ground.
Rose saw the gun in the man’s hand. There was a silencer on the end. He hit the main beam sending a tunnel of dazzling light down the road. There was little an unarmed man could do against a man with a gun but he was damned if he was going to let Marsden take a bullet. He gunned the engine and moved the car forward.
Anderson watched, horrified, as Wates fell, blood pouring from his face. Now Kerr was turning towards Nelson, his upper lip curled back in a sneer, the barrel of the gun pointing up at the night sky. Anderson groped around for his weapon. He knew it had been a bad idea from the start, but now he had to see it through.
Kerr heard Wates go down and faced the Toyota. He brought up his gun. The headlights had dazzled him but he could make out Nelson standing over Wates. His finger tightened on the trigger and he aimed the gun at Nelson’s head. He gritted his teeth, blinking rapidly. The gun fired but the bullet went way over Nelson’s head. Kerr bellowed in frustration and took aim again.
Anderson heard a dull pop and realised Kerr had fired. He transferred his own gun to his left hand and fumbled for the door handle with the other. His bowels felt liquid and he feared that he was going to wet himself. The door opened and he stumbled out into the road.
Rose saw the man lurch out of the driver’s side of the Range Rover. Marsden had hit one of the men but it was still two against one and unless Rose did something, Marsden would die. Then he realised he had a weapon he could use against the men. He stamped on the accelerator and the car leaped forward.
Shepherd heard the roar of the engine as he dropped into a crouch. The first shot had missed his head by inches and Kerr was about to fire again. Shepherd swung up his SIG-Sauer and fired twice in quick succession. Both shots hit Kerr in the chest and he fell backwards, mouth working soundlessly.
Shepherd turned sideways and saw Anderson taking aim, his face contorted by fear or hatred. Shepherd swung his gun round but Anderson had him in his sights. All he had to do was pull the trigger and it would all be over.
Rose gripped the steering-wheel and pressed his foot on the brake, not too hard because he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt. The car smashed into the man with the gun, hurling him against the door of the Range Rover with such force that it broke off its hinges. The man fell back on to the door, arms flailing. The gun fell out of his hand,and he slumped to the Tarmac.
Rose climbed out of the car. Marsden was leaning against his Toyota, both hands on the butt of his gun.
‘What the hell’s going on?’ asked Rose.
‘We’ve got to get out of here.’
‘You just shot a man,’ said Rose.
‘Rosie, I can’t be caught here,’ he said. He tucked the gun into the waistband of his trousers. ‘I’m not going down for this.’
Rose glared at him. ‘Okay, follow me,’ he said. He got back into the car, reversed away from the Range Rover, then sped off down the road.
Shepherd followed Rose as he drove off the main road and zigzagged through side-streets, his eyes constantly checking the rear-view mirror. They weren’t being followed. Rose parked behind an overflowing builder’s skip, got out of the car, jogged to the Toyota and climbed into the front passenger seat. ‘What the hell was that about, Stu?’
Shepherd couldn’t tell Rose the truth about Kerr, because Shepherd was an undercover cop and Rose was his target. ‘Just leave it, Rosie,’ he said. If Rose reported what had happened, Shepherd’s assignment was over. If Shepherd told Rose who Kerr was, his assignment was over. The only way out would be to use what had happened to his advantage.
‘Leave it?’ said Rose. ‘You just shot a man and I hit one with my car.’
‘They attacked me, remember?’
‘So why aren’t we calling this in?’ asked Rose. ‘Why did we run? And what the hell were you doing with a gun?’
Shepherd shrugged and avoided eye-contact. The pressure had to come from Rose. ‘Just forget it ever happened.’
‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ asked Rose. ‘Have you any idea how much shit we’re in?’
Shepherd’s mind was racing for a workable story. It was always best to go in with the legend in place so that all contingencies could be anticipated. In a good undercover operation every move was planned in advance so that nothing could go wrong. Thinking on your feet got the adrenaline going but it could lead all too easily to disaster.
‘I mean it, Stu. Tell me what the fuck you’ve got yourself into, or I call this in, right now.’
Shepherd took a deep breath.‘I owed them money.’
‘So they were from the Halifax, were they? You behind on your mortgage?’
Shepherd flashed him a sarcastic smile. ‘Good to see you’ve kept your sense of humour,’ he said.
‘It must be one hell of a lot of money for them to come after you with guns.’
‘Thirty grand, and some,’ said Shepherd.
Rose raised his eyebrows. ‘How the hell did you run up a debt like that?’
‘I don’t want to get into this. It was my own fault, and now I’ve got to sort it.’
‘Yeah, regular Gary Cooper, you are.’ Rose leaned towards him and dropped his voice to a low whisper. ‘Think of this as a confession. You have sinned, my son, but by repenting you will be saved.’
‘I’m not a Catholic,’ said Shepherd.
Rose’s voice hardened. ‘And I’m not a fucking priest. I saved your life back there, so spill your guts.’
‘It’s a gambling debt,’ said Shepherd, slowly. ‘At least, twenty grand is. There’s more than ten grand of juice. Interest.’
‘And you can’t pay?’
‘For fuck’s sake, Rosie, didn’t you hear what I just said? Thirty grand. Could you lay your hands on thirty grand cash? That’s more than a year’s salary after tax and insurance and all the rest of the shit they take off us.’
‘Haven’t you got a house you could have mortgaged?’
‘The only asset I’ve got is the car.’
‘How bad a gambler are you? You’re what, thirty-three, thirty-four, and the only thing you’ve got to your name is a three-year-old Toyota?’
‘I had a bad year,’ said Shepherd. ‘Okay, a couple of bad years.’
