The Outsider, page 9
‘So we’ve got a crime connection through Carter and Boxton, and the media controlled by Burniford. What about Ivan Manners?’ Opal said. ‘What’s his role?’
The expert’s mouth twisted. ‘I have to admit, he wasn’t on our radar before now. I knew of him, of course. For someone so wealthy he’s extremely low profile.’
‘I didn’t recognise him when I met him,’ I said.
‘I don’t think I’d know him if he walked in now,’ the expert said meditatively. ‘But I’m interested. He fits the profile – he’s wealthy, he’s bored, he’s white, he’s middle-aged. The country has changed a lot since he was young. People don’t like change. People with money think they can control their world. If they don’t like something, they aren’t prepared to tolerate it.’
‘What Ivan Manners does have is access to technology.’ I was putting it all together, but slowly. ‘If you wanted to be able to organise the technical side of … let’s say a bomb, for argument’s sake, you could do a lot worse than bring in a billionaire with his own staff who are trained to be secretive and who were recruited to solve problems with complicated mechanisms. Even if they weren’t in agreement with Manners and Carter and the rest of them, they could still be strong-armed into doing the work. They needn’t be told what it’s for. Someone like Manners owns his staff. He pays them well enough that they can’t take the risk of losing their jobs. It’s wiser to turn a blind eye.’
‘And then you have back-up from a small-scale media tycoon for your grassroots recruitment,’ Opal said.
‘And someone who is deeply involved in organised crime to handle acquiring the illegal components you might need.’
‘With Geraint Carter at the heart of it all to come up with the plan and bring the three of them together.’ The fair-haired woman smiled thinly. ‘Without him, they would never have found each other.’
‘I think Carter is planning to take an active role in executing whatever it is they’re planning,’ I said. ‘I get the impression that he’s agreed to provide the muscle.’
‘Not Phil Boxton?’
‘They’re going to want people who are completely loyal, aren’t they? Carter doesn’t really trust anyone except his own family.’
‘And you,’ Opal said slyly.
‘So far.’ I was thinking about it. ‘When he asked me to work for him it was specifically to stop his son-in-law, Den, and his son Bruno from fighting. They were both in the meeting with Boxton, Manners and Burniford. There’s no real reason for them to be involved unless they’re part of the plot. Bruno is a massive liability, though. He’s a cokehead and he has serious anger issues. What I think is that Geraint is petrified one or other of them will let him down. Den can’t manage Bruno at all.’
‘And you can?’ The thin-lipped smile again from the expert: politely dubious was the nicest way I could describe her.
‘I’ve been lucky so far. He’s backed down every time, or I haven’t needed to make it into an argument so it wasn’t an issue. But I think Geraint sees me as his insurance policy. I’m supposed to make sure whatever they’re planning goes without a hitch.’
‘You think it’s a bomb?’ As a rule, Opal didn’t do panic, but the way she was chewing her bottom lip was the equivalent of another person’s screaming hysterics.
‘It would fit. They want something huge, something headline-grabbing – something that everyone is afraid of. They’ll have looked at the spike in anti-Muslim sentiment after the 7/7 attacks.’ The expert’s eyes were wide. ‘It all hangs together.’
‘But we can’t stop it unless we know the details,’ Opal said. ‘This is all conjecture. We don’t know where, when or what they’re planning. We’ve got no evidence. If we can’t get a handle on the plan in time, you’re going to have to try to head it off on your own.’
I shrugged. ‘All I have to do is stop it without them suspecting anything. Not a problem.’
‘Do you know anything about bombs, Rob?’ she asked, eyebrows high.
‘Not a thing.’
‘I’ll see if I can find someone to give you a crash course.’
‘There might not be time,’ I said soberly. ‘From the way Geraint was talking, it’s going to kick off any day now.’
The expert had melted away to her own room, where she was staying for two nights. Opal only had to endure another couple of hours after I left before she could flee to London. It was all about blurring the outlines of what was happening, she had explained to me. Never go directly from one place to another. Never arrive at or leave a meeting at the same time as the people you’re meeting. Never look as if you’re in the same place at the same time for the same purpose. If the people you’re meeting are dressed casually, you wear a suit. You separated yourself from what you’d been doing in distance and time, and in other people’s perception of you, and unless the people watching you were very good, you tended to get away with it.
The trouble was, I had no idea how good Geraint and his crew were.
‘Give me your phone,’ Opal said, holding out her hand. ‘I don’t want you taking it back to them in case they trace me through it.’
‘Unlikely.’ I gave it to her anyway.
‘Not impossible. Ivan Manners has access to a lot of technically knowledgeable people. Do you really think they couldn’t crack our security?’
‘I suppose I don’t.’ I felt uneasy, though, to be handing over the only way I had to contact her. ‘Was it worth taking the risk of having this meeting?’
‘Definitely. But make sure you have a cover story in case someone saw you.’ She smirked. ‘You’re not going to want to suggest we’re sleeping together, are you.’
‘Only because they’re horrible racists and I’m supposed to be one too,’ I said gallantly. ‘Otherwise it would be an honour and a privilege.’
‘Oh, gimme a break.’ Opal threw a pillow at me. ‘What’s the real story?’
‘What I thought was that you owed me money.’
‘Nice.’ She went to her handbag. ‘You’d better have some. How much?’
‘A couple of hundred.’
‘Whew. For what?’
‘Services rendered.’ I took the notes she was holding out to me. ‘Gardening, I thought. Some sort of manual labour.’
‘I wish you would come and mow the lawn. Derek never does it.’ Derek was her husband, a large and friendly Ghanaian.
‘When all this is over, I will.’
‘I’ll hold you to that.’ She nodded at the cash. ‘For two hundred quid you’re going to need to do it for the whole summer. I’m going to want my money’s worth.’
13
I’d thought I didn’t have much time before Geraint put his plan into action, but I’d expected to have longer than a couple of days. It was a Wednesday evening, the weather damp and drizzly. I’d been in the gym, and I was heading upstairs with nothing more taxing on my mind than a shower when Geraint called my name from the study.
I went to the door and discovered that Bruno and Den were there already, with Harry brooding massively in the corner. ‘What’s up?’
‘Come in. Shut the door.’ Geraint was sitting at his desk which was unusual, and even more unusually he was fidgeting with the things in front of him. He looked excited and nervous, and I tried to hide the sinking feeling I had as I turned to close the door behind me. ‘Sit down, Mark.’
Den shifted to one end of his sofa, making room for me. Bruno glowered at me, as he tended to. Did he think that sitting on the same piece of furniture as Den meant that I was taking his side? Was it possible for even Bruno to be so pig-headed? Probably, I concluded, and focused my attention on Geraint.
‘I’ve been talking to Mark about our plans, boys. I’ve decided that I want him to be involved.’
Den nodded slowly. Bruno’s knuckles flared white briefly as he clenched his fists.
‘You’ve got to be very sure you can trust him, Dad.’
‘I do. I’ve looked into him. Everything checks out. He’s trustworthy.’
I nodded my thanks at Geraint, thinking of Opal and her absolute attention to detail. She’d promised me my background story would hold up. My life depended on it.
‘Mark thinks the way we do. He’s just as determined as we are to see some changes in this country. He’s got fast reactions and he’s a problem-solver. He’s exactly who we need as the last member of the team.’
I wondered if he was trying to persuade them or himself. I was aware of Harry’s scrutiny from the corner of the room, and I tried to make sure my expression was conveying nothing more than enthusiasm, determination and a little bit of puzzlement. The last part was no effort. What the hell were they planning?
‘Mark, I’ve told you the basic principle of our plan – that we need to shake people out of their complacency with something big. Before we do that, we’ve got a little bit of work to do. We’re going to do it ourselves, because I don’t want to bring too many people in at this stage. Operational security is key.’
‘OK.’ I was relieved at the implication that we weren’t yet at the point where the ‘spectacular’ was going to take place. His next words made me reassess how comforting that was.
‘What we’re going to do – or what you’re going to do, to be more accurate – is in the nature of a trial run. We need to prove ourselves to the people who are putting their money and expertise into our plans. We need to show that the plan works on a small scale before we go for the big one.’
He was talking about Boxton, Manners and Burniford, I thought, and nodded instead of saying anything that might reveal I’d thought about the three of them at all.
‘It’s all part of the strategy too. Raising people’s fear levels.’ He angled his hand like a plane taking off, sending it up towards the ceiling. ‘Making them anticipate trouble. Then when trouble comes, they’re already in the right frame of mind to act on it.’
‘It’s psychological war,’ Bruno said. ‘Call this a warning shot.’
‘So what are we going to do?’ I asked.
‘We’re going to trick people into thinking their lives are in danger. A prank, nothing more than that. Harmless.’ Geraint was leaning back in his chair, drawling his words. It was a giveaway that he was lying, I thought with a prickle of unease.
‘What sort of prank?’
‘We’re going to set off some small explosive devices on the Underground.’ Den sounded completely reasonable. ‘They’re smoke grenades. Completely non-toxic. Not dangerous. They’re sold for films, theatrical productions, displays – you can get them in all kinds of colours. They give off smoke for about thirty seconds. They’re legal.’
‘Not the way you’re planning to use them,’ I pointed out. Smoke grenades on the Underground … ‘That’s going to cause pure panic, isn’t it?’
‘That’s the idea. That’s exactly it.’ Geraint rubbed his hands together. ‘The idea is that you, Den and Bruno take them into London. You set them off. Then we let the public take charge from there. They’ll assume that it’s a bomb, of course, or a fire.’
‘There’ll be mayhem.’
‘Exactly.’ He leaned forward, lacing his fingers. ‘You aren’t shocked, are you? Not having second thoughts?’
I tried to force my face into a smile. It felt stiff and awkward. ‘No, of course not. I’m excited. I think it’s a brilliant idea.’
‘Good. What we’re thinking, you see, is that it’s relatively low risk. If one of you gets stopped by the police, you can explain you’re transporting the grenades to a photoshoot.’
‘I have actually arranged one,’ Den said with a grin. ‘Booked a photographer and a model and everything. Nothing like being thorough.’
‘That’s the way,’ Geraint said approvingly. ‘You’ll all have the address. It should be a good enough cover story. It shouldn’t arouse any suspicions if one of you does get stopped so we won’t put the rest of the plan in jeopardy.’
‘Good,’ I managed. ‘Great. But what if we’re seen detonating the grenades?’
‘They’re easy enough to hide. The train will be crowded. You’ll have a prearranged time to set off your grenades, in a station, then you hang back. Let the other passengers get off the train before you follow. I expect there’ll be a certain amount of chaos. You’ll want to lose yourselves in the crowd. And don’t try to meet up afterwards. You need to distance yourselves from each other so no one connects the three of you. Obviously if questions are asked you can say you were travelling together and got separated – that does happen at busy times.’
‘So you’re planning to do this at rush hour.’
‘Of course. No better time.’
‘No.’ My throat was dry. I had to find some way of warning British Transport Police so they knew what to expect. A rush-hour train crammed with people, pulling into a station with a full platform of waiting passengers, and more moving through the tunnels behind them … the panic would be a killer on its own. And Geraint would know that. I hoped I was keeping my thoughts off my face. Geraint would know that this was a plan for murder. Shedding blood was not a problem, as far as he was concerned. He needed to impress his major-league collaborators. Rich though he was, he was a minnow compared to the sharks he was swimming with. He needed to prove himself. A mild scare, a couple of small injuries – that would prove nothing. He had promised them deaths, front-page headlines, a terrorised public who would be ready and willing to lash out at whoever got the blame. And Max Burniford would be behind the scenes, orchestrating the media response to it, shifting the public mood with dog-whistle racism. Maybe even overt racism, if enough innocent people died. Maybe it would be enough on its own to turn the tide of public opinion for a week or a month or longer.
Maybe it would be the small shock that started an avalanche.
‘How many of us are involved?’
‘Directly? You, Den and Bruno. You and Bruno will be together – you have one grenade and Den has the other. Den will be at the other end of the train. You’ll set off your grenades at the same time. That will confuse people even more.’
‘I don’t need a babysitter.’ Bruno’s voice was harsh. His father ignored him.
‘Harry will drive you into London. As I said, you’ll be finding your own way back. Take your time. Den, make sure everyone has the address for the photoshoot, just in case, but there’s no need to go to it unless you’re worried about being followed by the police.’
‘They won’t be following us,’ I said. ‘They’ll be struggling to control the crowds first and foremost, and then dealing with any injuries. If we don’t get arrested immediately, we should be absolutely fine.’
‘So don’t get arrested.’ Geraint smiled at me to take the sting out of it.
‘If we do,’ I said slowly, ‘are you going to sort out a solicitor for us?’
‘No. If you get arrested, you’re on your own.’
‘Does the same go for all of us?’ Bruno’s voice came out as a squeak.
‘I’m not getting involved.’ Geraint held up his hands. ‘We can’t take the risk. If I get implicated in all of this and they start looking more closely at what we’re doing, we might not be able to do the main event. That requires a lot more in the way of planning and hazard. We’ve got to acquire the materials. There’s a risk in that anyway. If the authorities are looking at me already, it’ll be impossible. You’ve got to sort it out for yourselves if you get arrested. Don’t do anything stupid like writing down your solicitor’s details. Memorise a name if you want to, but don’t make it look as if you were expecting trouble.’
Bruno grunted, obviously unhappy.
‘When is this happening?’ I asked, my mind racing. I would have to come up with some reason to leave the estate and contact Opal. She could warn the Met and BTP that we were on our way, and for what purpose.
‘No time like the present.’ Geraint smiled at the expression on my face. ‘Eight o’clock tomorrow morning sounds like a good time, doesn’t it?’
‘But that’s fourteen hours from now.’
‘Exactly. No big build-up. No time to get nervous.’
‘I’m nervous already,’ I said, and Den laughed.
‘You’re not the only one, believe me. I think we should get it over with. Rip the plaster off.’
‘You’re going to be leaving early tomorrow morning. Three o’clock, we thought, didn’t we, Harry? You want to have plenty of time to get into position. No one needs to be stuck in rush-hour traffic.’
‘Be ready to go at three on the dot.’ Harry came out of his corner, moving like an old bulldog, all bandy legs and broad-chested swagger. ‘I’ll have everything you need.’
The other two nodded and I found myself standing up at the same time as them, dismissed.
‘Get some dinner. Then go to bed. Take it easy,’ Geraint ordered. ‘Don’t start drinking to take your mind off it.’
I started towards the door with the others. Three o’clock in the morning. That didn’t leave much time but maybe—
‘Mark, hold on. I want a word with you.’
Shit. I stopped and let the others file out. Harry gave me an unreadable look as he passed me. Geraint waited until the door was closed behind him.
‘Do you recognise these two?’ He handed me a newspaper, folded over. Two balding, bull-necked men glared out at me from what were obviously mugshots. Their names were printed underneath: Angelo de Luca, aged 28, and John Bianchi, aged 31.
‘They’re the ones who tried to bother Juliet the other day.’
‘Good.’
I flipped the newspaper so I could see the article’s headline. TWO MEN DIE IN READING HOUSE FIRE. ‘They’re dead?’
‘Unfortunate,’ Geraint said smoothly. ‘Live by the sword, and so on and so forth.’
‘You did it?’
‘Now, now, Mark. Obviously not. Obviously, it’s just a coincidence.’ He lowered one eyelid in what might have been a wink.
‘You weren’t even sure it was them.’
‘Well, quite. I wasn’t sure. But someone took care of them, so I don’t need to worry, do I? And neither do you. They won’t be making any complaints about the incident the other day.’
