‘If I had to name a name I’d say Mike Sutherland, but only because he’s so close to Rose. And they were both in the ARV with Ormsby.’
‘We could put a tail on Sutherland.’
‘I wouldn’t,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’d rather see what they’ve got planned.’
‘Catch them red-handed?’
‘Maybe not. But I’d like to know who they’re planning to rip off.’
‘It’s your call, Spider.’
‘As soon as I’ve had the meet I’ll fill you in.’ Shepherd cut the connection, then went upstairs.
Liam was fast asleep, hugging his pillow. It scared Shepherd, how much he loved his son. He would do anything for him. He wondered if Keith Rose was sitting by his daughter, watching her sleep, wanting to be a good father, promising to do whatever it took to ensure that she’d be healthy and happy. He felt uncomfortable. He kissed his son then went to his bathroom. He felt dirty and wanted to shower.
Shepherd got up early and had breakfast with Liam, who asked his father if he could drive him to school. Shepherd said yes. ‘Great!’ shrieked Liam.
‘I could drive you both,’ said Katra.
‘Nah, that’s okay,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’ll take the Toyota.’
‘That’s a horrible old car,’ said Liam. ‘Why are you driving it?’
‘It’s for work.’
‘The Golf’s much better—’ Liam stopped and put down his knife and fork. His lower lip was trembling.
Shepherd laid a hand on his son’s arm.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Liam.
‘I keep doing the same thing.’
Liam pushed away his plate and stood up. ‘I’ll get my bag.’ He ran out of the kitchen and thumped up the stairs.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Katra.
‘His mum drove a black VW Golf,’ said Shepherd. ‘It was the car they were in when they crashed.’
Katra looked horrified. ‘When his mother died?’
Shepherd nodded.
She wiped her hands on a tea-towel. ‘I’ll go and talk to him.’
‘I will,’ said Shepherd. He hurried upstairs. Liam was sitting on his bed, clutching his schoolbag. Shepherd sat down next to him. ‘I miss her, too,’ he said.
‘I miss her all the time.’
‘We’ll always miss her. That’s what happens when someone you love goes away.’
‘She didn’t go away,’ said Liam. ‘She died.’
‘I know.’
‘Why do people say that? Why do they say she went away when that’s not what happened? Gran says that. So does Granddad. They say she went away but if she went away she’d come back. But she’s never coming back, is she?’
Shepherd felt tears prick his eyes and fought them back. ‘No,’ he said, ‘but that doesn’t mean she’s not in our hearts, because she is. She’ll always be with us.’
‘But not really, right? She’s never going to hug me again, is she?’
Shepherd felt a tear run down his right cheek and brushed it away. ‘No,’ he said. ‘But I’m still here. I can hug you.’
Suddenly Liam reached for him, and buried his head in his father’s chest. ‘I don’t want you to die, Dad,’ he sobbed.
‘I won’t,’ said Shepherd. ‘Not for a long, long time.’
Shepherd held Liam until he stopped crying, then wiped his eyes and told him to go and wash his face. He carried Liam’s schoolbag into the hallway and waited until Liam was ready to go.
Katra was standing at the bottom of the stairs and ruffled Liam’s hair as he went by. She looked up at Shepherd, who mouthed, ‘It’s okay.’
He went after Liam and gave him his bag. As they walked to the Toyota, one of Shepherd’s mobiles rang – his Stuart Marsden phone. He told Liam to go back into the house while he took the call. It was Rose.
‘Where are you?’
‘Home,’ said Shepherd.
‘You up for a meet?’
‘Where?’
‘Wapping High Street. Outside the tube station. In an hour.’
Shepherd glanced at his watch. ‘I’ll be there,’ he said.
As he put away the phone he saw Liam standing at the front door. Katra was behind him, her hand on his shoulder. Shepherd could see from the look on Liam’s face that he knew what he was going to say. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
‘Work?’ said Liam.
Shepherd nodded.
‘You can drive me to school, can’t you, Katra?’
‘Of course. I’ll get changed,’ said Katra. She went inside. Liam walked over to the CRV.
‘Liam, I’m sorry,’ said Shepherd.
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘I’ll take you to school tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow’s Saturday,’ said Liam.
‘Well, we’ll do something tomorrow. It’s my day off, too.’
Liam climbed into the back of the CRV. He fastened his seatbelt and deliberately avoided his father’s eyes.
Shepherd waited at the front door until Katra came downstairs. She was wearing the green parka and sand- coloured cargo pants she’d had on the first time they’d met.
‘I’ll phone you later,’ he said. She waved and got into the car. Shepherd watched them drive away, hoping that Liam would wave. He didn’t.
He set the burglar alarm and locked the house, then drove the Toyota across town. He found a parking space about ten minutes’ walk from Wapping High Street. He sat for a few minutes, staring at his reflection in the rear- view mirror, preparing himself mentally for what he was about to do. He was going to lie to a man who thought he was his friend. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last. He put the Stuart Marsden phone into his jacket pocket and the others into the glove compartment.
He got out of the Toyota and walked slowly towards Wapping tube station. Rose was already there, wearing a long black coat over blue jeans and a black polo-neck sweater. He nodded at Shepherd and started walking down the street. Shepherd caught up with him and the two men walked in silence. Rose turned into a side-street and they went between two warehouse conversions, ornate black metal grilles over the windows, CCTV cameras covering all angles. Fortresses for City workers.
Rose made a left turn and walked up to a modern block. Concrete stairs led to the entrance. Someone had spray-painted ‘HOMES FOR LOCALS NOT YUPPIE SCUM’ across the glass door that led into the building. A line of thirty doorbells was set into a stainless-steel intercom system, covered by a CCTV camera above the door. Rose pressed one of the bells. Flat twenty-seven. Shepherd heard a tinny voice but couldn’t make out what was said. Rose smiled apologetically at him. ‘He wants me to pat you down.’
‘He what?’
Shepherd tried to look surprised – and angry. It was a narrow line to tread but one he’d trodden dozens of time in the past. A search meant a lack of trust, and anyone would take offence at not being trusted. But protesting too much could be as dangerous as not protesting at all. The trick was to call it just right: righteous indignation followed by annoyed resignation.‘You approached me, remember?’ said Shepherd.‘I didn’t come knocking on your door.’
‘Just humour him,’ said Rose. ‘It’s his flat we’re going into.’
‘What does he think I’m carrying? A gun?’
