Chapter 10
“Sayer, wake up,” I heard George’s voice in the distance, then a ruffling of the sheets as Sayer shifted. “There’s an emergency.”
“I’ll be out in a minute,” Sayer answered, and waited for George to walk out before he brought his face close to mine. “You awake?”
“Yes. You think he saw me?”
“He’s not blind. Stay here,” he kissed my cheek before leaving the bed.
I hadn’t slept much at all, spent the night thinking about what had happened and how it changed things. I was happy, probably against all common sense and better judgment, but none of that really mattered anymore.
The room was fully lit by sunshine, which wouldn’t let me sleep in even if I wanted to, so I decided to get out of bed and start my day. I caught George in the corridor outside Sayer’s office. He was leaning on the wall with his head bent down.
“What’s the emergency?”
“Helga.”
“What happened to her?”
“She… Cisneros gave her a lift after the party,” he took a deep breath before continuing. “There was a shooting...”
I felt the ground shake so hard under my feet I had to steady myself, hands against the wall.
“Are they…?”
“The doctors don’t give her more than twenty-four hours. Cisneros and the other two that were in the car are dead.”
Ferdinand. “Other two? Who?”
“We still don’t know.”
Ferdinand. SHIT.
I slid down to the floor, facing the wall. George knelt beside me, touched my shoulder, looked into my eyes.
“I’m trying to find out if your friend was with them.”
“He must’ve...”
“I’m terribly sorry.”
If my brain was trying to shut down, I could only imagine how bad Sayer’s was fighting to stay on the conscious side.
Soon enough, Sayer stormed out of the office, startling the two of us in the hall. I stood up and he immediately pulled me into a hug so tight I thought I’d faint. He buried his face between my neck and shoulder and I could feel him quivering.
George joined us by squeezing one of Sayer’s shoulders. There was a moment of silence between us before Sayer recollected himself and told us we had to go and sort things out.
He kept me close all the way to the hospital, in the empty waiting room, and only when he was finally let into Helga’s room did he let me out of his sight.
“Good thing he has you.” George said, his eyes fixed on his shoes.
I turned my head to see if he was looking at me. He wasn’t. I knew what I had to do; yet I feared the worst so much my muscles weren’t responding. Then a nurse walked by and I sprinted after her.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for someone and I can’t seem to find him.”
“Who would that be?”
“A friend of mine, I believe he came in with the victims of last night’s shooting.”
“What’s his name?”
“Ferdinand Tejera.”
She read something on the papers she was holding before speaking again.
“I am very sorry. Are you a family member?”
SHIT.
“Ex-girlfriend. His whole family lives in Colombia. I’m the closest person he has in London.”
She gave me an empathic glance. “Will you take his belongings?”
“Yes, sure.” Whatever, fuck me! He was dead, and I was too shaken to think.
“Did you know the other man, the one by the name of Marco?”
“No.”
“OK. Follow me, please.”
His credentials, driver’s license, passport, and his wallet with one hundred pounds and a picture of us together. Fuck. I shoved it all in my pockets, made the necessary arrangements for a cremation, and went back to George.
“Was it him?”
“Yes.”
“Helga’s dead.”
“Oh fuck…” just then I saw Max MacGowan walking towards us with Desmond and Harry in stride, followed by Patrick, who wasn’t followed by his two blokes this once. “We’ve got visitors.”
George got up from his seat to welcome them and relay the bad news.
“I have something for you,” Patrick whispered to me. “Can we talk outside?”
I let George know that I was stepping outside, and we walked out of the bleak white walls.
“What is it?”
“I’ve some names for you, in Lambeth,” he thrust a piece of paper into my hand. “That’s all I’ve got.”
I hid it in one of my already full pockets, “How do I know you’re to be trusted?”
“You don’t,” he lit up a cigarette and offered me one, but I refused. “I’ve mingled in their circles. Wannabe gangsters. My number’s there if you need to call me.”
“There were these guys that tried to break into Sayer’s house some time ago. They were both young, one of them told me he was doing it under threat.”
“Typical. They say they’ll kill your family if you don’t do what they want.”
“But if it was a gang, they would've sent professionals who would get the job done, not boys who would fail miserably.”
“Scarlett?” George peeked out just as Patrick was about to reply. “Sayer is asking for you.”
I turned to look at Patrick; he half-grinned. Something wasn’t right.
Desmond, creepy as ever, was waiting in the corridor when Max and Sayer emerged. They hugged each other, and then we were on our way back home.
I had to call Ferdinand’s parents and tell them what had happened. A horrible task. His mother, Mona, picked up the phone, and I had to translate my thoughts into the scarce Spanish her son had taught me.
“Ha muerto.” He’s dead, for fuck’s sake, dead. “Lo siento mucho, un accidente de auto.” I was truly sorry for having to lie to her, telling her it was a car accident and not a drive-by shooting that killed him.
The line went silent.
“Dime la verdad, Scarlett. Romulus ya me llamó.”
Fuck! She knew already. Our superior had called her and told her the truth. What a fucker. I knew I’d had to deal with him later; but this, he should’ve let me do.
“Entonces ya sabes lo sucedido.” She knew what happened, there was no need for me to explain matters further.
“He loved you,” she switched to English, something I would have preferred she hadn’t done, in case someone was eavesdropping, “but he loved his job too much. Be careful, Scarlett, you’re a good girl.”
She had no problem with me disposing of Ferdinand’s ashes as I pleased. Thankfully, that didn’t complicate matters any more. Now I could concentrate on the lead Patrick had given me.
I went to George, showed him the piece of paper.
“Sayer won’t want you to go,” he said as soon as he read it.
“I don’t care. I’m going.”
“Tomorrow night,” he folded the piece of paper and put it in his pocket. “I’ll tell him we’re going to see Bernard down in Brixton.”
“But–”
“No buts. Tomorrow night. Sayer needs you here right now.”
And he was right, even if Sayer wouldn’t say it. He looked relieved and revived once I walked into the study.
“Your friend…” he put a hand on my shoulder.
“Yes, he died too. I’m the only person he had here in London.”
“Is there anything you need to do? Feel free to take some time to make… arrangements.”
Not arrangements, but there was somewhere I had to go. “I’d like to take a long walk.”
He kissed my lips and I was off. I headed south, always peering back to check if anyone was following me. Taking deep breaths, getting some pollution, some air, whatever made it into my lungs, because I was starting to feel my chest getting tighter and tighter.
I made it to the Kensington Police Station and, after some hesitation, walked in.
As soon as I showed my credentials, I was ush
ered into an office where Romulus Moretti was waiting for me, as he was supposed to if anything went wrong.
“Sit down, Scarlett,” he beckoned me in. “How are you feeling today?”
“How the fuck do you suppose I’m feeling today?” I eyed him as he sat down calmly behind a desk. “You called Mona yourself.”
“I thought you would be unavailable. Please, sit down. There is a lot we need to talk about.”
“I don’t have much time. I’m supposed to be out for a stroll.”
“Were you followed here?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Sit. Down. Scarlett.”
I exhaled loudly as I dropped myself into a chair.
“Cisneros and Tejera got burnt,” he continued.
“I was given a lead for a gang in Lambeth.”
“The police are working on that. Thing is, you’re being sent somewhere else.”
“No, I’m good, I–”
“Sooner rather than later, they will find out you’re an undercover agent and they will kill you.”
“No, Romulus, Sayer won’t let them.”
“Wha– What did you just say?”
Crap, what the fuck did I just say?
“I mean… I won’t get burnt so easily.”
“Don’t get cocky. Ferdinand was one of our best and he got burnt. We’re pulling you out before there is another mishap.”
“What about Sayer’s attackers? Why isn’t there any information on them? Why is everyone so quiet about it?”
“Young, inexperienced shooters. Kids trying to make it to the top without even knowing what they’re doing.”
“Not necessarily. I confronted one of them in Sayer’s backyard, after he tried to break in. He wasn’t a gang member, he was just a boy afraid of his family getting killed.”
“How so?”
“He started crying and all.”
“Maybe he lied to you, maybe it was his first time. Now, during my last conversation with Ferdinand he told me you were getting emotionally attached to Sayer…”
“Here we go...” I rolled my eyes.
“This is a real concern, Scarlett. Maybe it isn’t that everyone is quiet about what happened. Maybe he’s been too busy falling for you.”
“Oh, please, Romulus, don’t fuck with me.”
“I’m not fucking with you. You are breaking the rules and I’m saving your arse!”
“Mine? Or yours? I’m going to follow the lead I have and I’ll talk to you when I’ve found something.”
“Sorry, Scarlett, but no. Your orders are to keep a low profile until we pull you out.”
“Are you going after Sayer?”
“And MacGowan.”
“Aren’t they a little too old to be sent to prison?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me? Isn’t Sayer a little too old to be playing games with you? You’re on your own, Scarlett. Jimmy isn’t Ferdinand, he won’t look after you like Fer did.”
“Jimmy... I was told he was at Cisnero’s party last night, but I didn’t see him.”
“He couldn’t mingle about, he hasn’t escalated like you have.”
“Is this the part where I throw my badge at you and tell you I’m out?”
“Ask yourself.”
And that’s just what I did, only I placed the badge gently on the desk in front of him.
“He’s a beast, Scarlett,” he grabbed my wrist as I started pulling away from the desk. “And you’re making the worst mistake of your life.”
I drew back in disgust and walked out of there feeling worse than when I went in. Cisneros and Ferdinand burnt, how did that happen? Well, getting burnt happens all the fucking time, yet, by whom?
I rang Patrick.
“Yeah?”
“It’s Scarlett, I need to talk to you.”
“How goes it?”
“Not on the phone, can you meet me?”
“Where?”
“I’m at Edwardes Square.”
“I’m near High Street.”
“Melbury Road then.”
I waited, and soon enough I saw the black Range Rover drive up and the window roll down.
“Get in,” he was grinning, yet I could sense he was nervous about something. “How’s Sayer doing?” he asked as soon as I slid into the passenger’s seat.
“You alone?” I looked through the rearview mirror as soon as he started driving away.
“Yes, I was doing some shopping.”
“You better start coughing,” I pointed my gun at him over my lap.
“No need for that, mate.” Now he was really nervous. “Put that thing away.”
“You better start talking then. You have information concerning last night’s shooting,” I said as I screwed a silencer on the gun.
“Why would I?”
I shot at the back seat.
“Don’t!”
“It can be repaired. Now, your head on the other hand–”
“What do you want me to tell you?”
“Everything you know. You were working with Cisneros.”
“He was a snitch, for fuck’s sake!”
“See? You know a thing or two. What else do you know?”
“There was an undercover working with him, one of the guys that died in the shooting.”
“Who shot them?”
“I told you, some gang…”
This time I shot at his seat, right next to his thigh.
“Fuck! I don’t know!”
“Next one will taint that leather with blood, mate.”
“It– It's all Max MacGowan. He’s been recruiting kids from the estates and using them for shootings and such, so if they get caught, they won’t link back to him. Desmond does the scouting.”
“Like Sayer’s gunman?”
“And the punks that tried to rob you in Brixton.”
“He wasn’t counting on me, was he?”
“No.”
“How do you know all this?”
He turned his head slowly, his brows furrowing, “You said you knew I knew.”
“I took a guess. Really, I can’t call MacGowan and ask him myself.”
“You’re the next target,” he muttered.
“What? I can’t hear you,” I pressed the gun to his thigh.
“You’re next. He knows you’re an undercover.”
“Has he told Sayer?”
“He was going to tell him this morning but didn’t get around to it. MacGowan wants to make a deal, he wants Sayer to give you up.”
“Oh fuck…”
“You think you’re fucked? Wait until they find out I’ve told you all this!” He hit the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “Fuck!”
“Calm down,” I was getting impatient, “you’re not fucked yet. Work with me and we can come up with something. When is MacGowan expecting to tell Sayer?”
“After his sister’s funeral. They respect each other, you know?”
“You better learn some of that.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I have a lot of respect for Mr. Sayer.”
“You better. If I asked you to tell this to Sayer before Max does, would you do it?”
“I… I,” he stuttered. I pressed the gun harder on his thigh. “YES!”
“Good boy. Pull over, I’m getting off here.” I hadn’t been too attentive of my surroundings. Good thing it was Holland Park. “One more thing before I go,” I unscrewed the silencer and put everything back in its place.
“Yeah?”
“Were you sent to follow me?”
“What?”
“I don’t care, as long as it’s you. Desmond and Harry creep the hell out of me. Tell you what: help me help you. You want to work with Sayer? I can make it happen.”
“What makes you so sure about it?”
People change when there isn’t a gun between them, eh?
“Sayer cares for his people.” I got off the Rover.
“What makes you so sure he’ll care for you?” H
e kept calling at my back through the open window as I walked away.