False Friends (43 page)

After he’d showered and pul ed on a clean shirt and jeans, Chaudhry popped two slices of bread into the toaster and then knocked on Malik’s door before pushing it open. ‘Rise and shine, Harvey,’ he said. He flicked on the light. Malik’s bed was empty. Chaudhry grinned. ‘You naughty, naughty boy,’ he whispered to himself.

His mobile phone began to ring and he hurried back into the kitchen. He picked it up, expecting to talk to his friend, but it was a number he didn’t recognise. It was Khalid.

‘Good morning, brother,’ said Khalid. ‘Today is a joyous day because today is the day we carry out Al ah’s work.’

‘That’s great news, brother,’ said Chaudhry. His heart began to pound and he took a deep breath to steady himself.

‘I need you and Harveer to be ready to go at five o’clock, brother,’ said Khalid. ‘The same place as last time. You wil be col ected.’

‘We wil be there,’ said Chaudhry.

‘Today we shal teach the kaffir a lesson they wil never forget,’ said Khalid. ‘Inshal ah.’

‘Inshal ah,’ repeated Chaudhry. God wil ing.

Shepherd was dragged from a dreamless sleep by his ringing BlackBerry. He rol ed over in his bed and grabbed for the phone. It was Chaudhry.

‘Hey, Raj, what’s up?’

‘It’s today,’ said Chaudhry. ‘We’re to be picked up at five o’clock.’

Shepherd sat up, suddenly wide awake. ‘What happened?’

‘Khalid just phoned. Pretty much the same as last time. We’re to be picked up outside the restaurant again.’

‘And no indication of what they’re planning?’

‘Same as before,’ said Chaudhry. ‘But there’s a problem. Harvey’s not here.’

‘Where is he?’

‘He went to see some girl last night and didn’t come back.’

‘Have you cal ed him?’

‘His mobile’s off. It goes straight through to voicemail.’

‘Hel ’s bel s. Does he often do that?’

‘It’s a first. I don’t know what’s going on.’

‘What about Khalid?’ asked Shepherd. ‘Did you tel him that Harvey was AWOL?’

‘I couldn’t,’ said Chaudhry. ‘He’d hit the roof. Look, can you get access to text messages?’

‘Why?’

‘She phoned him last night. Then she sent him a text with her address.’

Shepherd already had Malik’s number. ‘What company does he use?’ he asked.

‘T-Mobile, I think.’

‘Al right, Raj, I’m on it. This girl, do you know anything about her?’

‘Just that she’s cal ed Nadia and that she’s fit. What do I do?’

‘We’ve got your back, Raj. Just turn up and we’l fol ow you, same as before.’

‘But this time it’s for real, right?’

‘I guess so. It’s very unlikely they’d test you twice.’

‘Can’t you just arrest them now?’

‘We need to get everybody in the act,’ said Shepherd. ‘I’l let you know about Harvey. But if he gets in touch with you first, let me know.’

Shepherd ended the cal . He went into his kitchen and switched on the kettle, then phoned Charlotte Button. He relayed what Chaudhry had told him.

‘I’l get everyone in gear,’ said Button.

‘I need to access a phone,’ said Shepherd. ‘Malik is AWOL.’

‘Is that a problem?’

‘He’s away with a girl. I just need to talk to him and get him back on track.’

‘The best person to talk to is Rob Waterman. He’s our go-to guy with the phone companies. Give me a couple of minutes and I’l text you his home number. I’l see you in Thames House.’

The line went dead. The kettle stil hadn’t boiled so Shepherd left the phone by the sink and went through to the bathroom and showered and shaved. When he got back to the kitchen with a towel wrapped round his waist there was a text message on his office mobile phone. He made himself a coffee with a splash of milk and then phoned Rob Waterman, who was surprisingly cheerful despite the early hour.

‘No need to apologise. I’m an early riser and I’ve been up since four,’ said Waterman. ‘Charlotte has already cal ed to tip me the wink. Give me the number and if you have the company that would save me a step.’

Shepherd gave him the information and Waterman said he’d phone back. Shepherd changed into blue jeans and a black polo shirt and was just pul ing on socks when Waterman cal ed back.

‘Already?’ asked Shepherd.

‘These days it’s as easy as pushing a few buttons,’ said Waterman. ‘The text message was just an address fol owed by a name, Nadia, and a smiley face. Do you have a pen?’

‘Don’t need one,’ said Shepherd.

Waterman gave him the address of a flat in Finsbury Park. ‘Couple of things you need to know,’ he said. ‘The phone is off now but the last time it was on it looks as if it was in the apartment. It was certainly in the immediate vicinity. That doesn’t mean it’s stil there, of course.’

‘And the other thing?’

‘The phone that sent the text message has been very busy. It’s a pay-as-you-go sim card and it’s been operative for only twenty-four hours, but in that time it’s made several cal s to Dubai, Palestine and Pakistan. Short cal s, never more than a minute.’

‘Any significance in the numbers?’ asked Shepherd.

‘My guys are checking that now, but I wouldn’t hold your breath. I’m guessing disposable sim cards al round.’

‘Any other cal s or texts made within the UK?’

‘No texts. Several cal s, al under a minute and al to other pay-as-you-go mobiles. Three phones in al , but that’s including the number you gave me.’

‘What about a location?’

‘It’s off too but was last on at the same Finsbury Park address. In the area, anyway.’

‘You’re a marvel, Rob, thanks,’ said Shepherd. ‘Do me a favour and keep an eye on both phones and give me a cal as soon as they go live again.’

Waterman promised he would and Shepherd ended the cal . He sipped his coffee and put two slices of bread into the toaster, figuring it was going to be a long day and he’d best stock up with fuel. He ran through his options, then phoned Amar Singh. Singh was also wide awake. He had young children so lie-ins were general y reserved for the weekend.

‘What’s up, Spider?’ asked Singh.

‘It’s a bit embarrassing, but I need someone who looks Asian,’ said Shepherd.

‘And what, I’m the only Asian you know?’

‘The only one I can trust this with, yeah,’ said Shepherd.

Chaudhry stopped combing his hair and stared at his reflection in the mirror above the sink, wondering if it was possible to see a lie in a man’s eyes. He’d read a couple of books on body language and he knew that there were signs that gave away when a lie was being told. If he was going to get through the day he’d have to conceal al those signs. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. ‘It’s going to be fine,’ he said to himself.

‘Everything is going to work out just fine. By tonight, it’l al be over.’ He took another deep breath, then gave his hair a final comb. As he walked into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea he began to tremble uncontrol ably and he put both hands against the fridge to steady himself. He took slow deep breaths, trying to quel the rising sense of dread that was threatening to overwhelm him. ‘A few hours,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Al you have to do is keep it together for a few more hours. You can do it, Raj.’

He switched on the kettle, then picked up his phone. He scrol ed through his contacts list until he found Jamila’s number. He had a sudden urge to hear her voice and he pressed the green button. When she answered it was obvious that she had been sleeping and he apologised for waking her.

‘That’s al right, I had to answer the phone anyway,’ she joked.

‘I forgot it was so early,’ he said. ‘Sorry. Just wanted to wish you a happy day, that’s al .’

‘Are you okay, Raj?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘You sound a bit stressed.’

‘I’ve got a test later today. I was up al night studying for it.’

‘Busy, busy boy.’

‘That’s the life of a med student,’ he said.

‘Too busy to see me?’

Chaudhry laughed. ‘Of course not. Can we do something at the weekend?’

‘Let me check my diary.’ She paused and Chaudhry felt his pulse quicken. ‘I’m joking,’ she said. ‘Of course we can. What do you fancy doing?’

‘We could go down to Brighton. Walk along the beach.’

‘Perfect,’ she said. ‘Sunday’s best for me.’

‘Sunday’s great,’ said Chaudhry. ‘I’l check train times and get back to you.’

‘I can drive us,’ she said. ‘I’l pick you up.’

Chaudhry felt another wave of panic start to overwhelm him and he gripped the phone so tightly that his knuckles whitened. ‘Jamila?’

‘Yes?’

He took a deep breath. ‘I real y like you, you know.’

‘I like you too. Raj, are you sure everything’s okay?’

‘I’l be okay when this test is out of the way.’

‘Wel , good luck with it,’ she said. ‘I’l be keeping my fingers crossed for you.’

‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I feel better knowing that.’

Shepherd drove to Finsbury Park and found a metered parking space round the corner from the flat where Malik had gone to meet the girl. Fifteen minutes later Singh arrived in a white Mercedes four-door coupé. He had to park on the other side of the road and Shepherd walked over and got in next to him. Singh was wearing a black suit that was clearly a brand name and a blue silk shirt.

‘This is nice,’ said Shepherd, looking round the car. It stil had its new-car smel and there wasn’t a mark on any of the surfaces.

‘I wanted the CLK but the wife said we needed doors for the kids,’ said Singh. ‘I said the kids could take the bus but for some reason she didn’t agree.’ He shook hands with Shepherd. ‘Good to see you, Spider.’

‘Thanks for coming, Amar,’ said Shepherd. ‘You didn’t have to dress up.’

‘This old thing?’ laughed Singh, running a hand down his jacket. ‘It’s MI5 and they notice good tailoring. In SOCA they couldn’t care less – it’s al tax inspectors and Customs officers, cheap suits and scuffed shoes.’ He nodded at the zipped-up jacket that Shepherd was wearing. ‘That’s pretty stylish,’ he said. ‘So I’m guessing you didn’t choose it yourself.’

‘Damien picked it out for me,’ said Shepherd. ‘It’s what al the best arms dealers are wearing, I’m told, and it does a decent job of concealing my Glock.’

‘You’re carrying? You didn’t say that I was going to be dodging bul ets.’ He gestured at his suit. ‘I don’t want this damaged; I’m stil paying for it.’

‘I don’t think it’s going to come to that, Amar,’ said Shepherd.

Singh switched off the engine. ‘So what do you need?’

‘I’ve got a guy who went round to see a girl last night. Her name’s Nadia. His phone’s off and so is hers. I need him back home now but I can hardly go knocking on the door claiming to be a friend of his.’

‘Because he’s Asian?’

‘Partly. But if it makes you feel any better it’s because, like you, he’s young and good-looking.’ He looked at his watch. It was just after nine-thirty.

‘We need to get a move on. We’l go into the building, you go up to the door and have a listen. See what’s happening. Then knock. Assuming she opens it, ask if Harvey’s there.’

‘Harvey?’

‘Short for Harveer. Harveer Malik. Studying for his master’s in Business Administration at the London Metropolitan University. You can say you’re on his course; it’s not too much of a stretch. If he’s not there ask her when she last saw him. Try to get a look around if you can.’

‘And how do I know where he was?’

‘You were with him in Stoke Newington when she sent him a text last night. Her name’s Nadia.’

Singh nodded. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘And you don’t think I need to borrow your gun?’

‘I’l be close by,’ said Shepherd.

The two men climbed out of the Mercedes and walked round the corner. The building was a purpose-built apartment block that looked as if it was council-run. There was a main entrance with two glass doors and beyond it a tiled reception area with two sets of metal lift doors. There was an entryphone system but no CCTV camera. The flat they wanted was on the fourth floor. Singh pressed the button for one of the flats on the sixth floor, but there was no response. He tried another flat and this time a woman with a heavy East European accent asked who it was.

‘Postman, can you buzz me in, please, darling?’ said Singh, and within seconds the lock buzzed.

Shepherd pushed the door open and as they got into one of the lifts he pressed the button for the fifth floor. When they got out they walked down one floor.

‘It’s 4G,’ said Shepherd. There was a fire door leading to a corridor with doors to the flats on either side. ‘I’l stay here.’

‘And I shout if I need you?’

‘I’l be watching you, Amar. If there’s a problem I’l be with you in seconds.’

Shepherd unzipped his jacket as Singh opened the fire door and walked down the corridor. The flat was on the left. Singh took out a ceramic contact microphone from his pocket. There were white earphones connected to it, giving the equipment the look of an iPod. He popped the earphones into his ears and gently pressed the microphone against the door. There was a smal dial on one side that al owed him to change the frequency being listened for and a dial on the other side. Singh jiggled both dials as he listened intently. At first he thought the flat was unoccupied but then he heard a voice. A man. His frown deepened as he realised that it wasn’t English.

He stood stock-stil with the microphone pressed against the wood. After almost a minute he heard a woman’s voice but again he didn’t recognise the language.

He put away the microphone as he walked back to the fire door. He didn’t say anything until the fire door had closed behind him. ‘There’s something not right,’ he said.

‘Tel me.’

‘There’s a woman in there but she’s not speaking English. Not Urdu and not Hindi either. Your guy, where’s he from?’

‘British Pakistani,’ said Shepherd.

‘So Urdu, right?’

‘I’m not sure. I’ve never heard him speak anything other than English.’

‘Wel , whatever they’re speaking it’s not Urdu. It didn’t sound like general conversation either. More like she was giving orders or instructions. But that’s just a feeling because I didn’t understand a word.’ He ran a hand over his hair. ‘There was something else too. The guy groaned.’