Read Online East of the City by Grant Sutherland - Free Book Online Page A

pigsticker. ‘How old's this?’Biil asked as he read it.
    ‘Two years.'
    He pulled a face. ‘Fucking hell.' He handed it back to me, saying maybe I didn’t have to worry about getting my head blown off after all. Then he stared at the sound gear a while, watching the green lights flicker up and down the scale.
    When I was helping Bill on the Ottoman report it crossed my mind at least once that maybe he wasn’t up to the job. He went at things like a bull at a gate, crash through or crash, he had a way of really upsetting people who might have been helpful. There was an Ottoman Air stewardess he spoke to, a bright girl; he grilled her like she was responsible for stealing the plane herself. When he left the room she asked me what Bill’s problem was. She said he was worse than the crooks she worked for, but when I asked her what she meant by that she immediately clammed up. I told Bill later but he dismissed it out of hand. Fucking airhead, he said.
    But the K and R business was different, you could see he was loving every minute of it. Men with guns, phone taps, the urgency and secrecy. I think if Sebastian had suddenly turned up safe somewhere, Bill would have been disappointed as hell.
    He reached across to the sound gear now and hit a switch. A woman’s voice came over the speakers; she was talking about commissions on some WardSure policy. Bill pressed a button. Now it was a man’s voice, another WardSure employee, he seemed to be bitching to his wife about their nanny.
    ‘Dickhead,’ Bill said, pressing the button again.
    The next channel was a blank. Bill was about to hit the button a third time when a high-pitched beeping started up. ‘Max Ward,’ the surveillance man said. ‘On the speaker?'
    Bill nodded.
    The man tlicked two switches, Max’s voice came over the speaker, excited as a kid. ‘Hello. Hello, Bill Tyler?’
    Bill shook his head, theatrically. ‘Is that the code?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘The code. I gave you a fucking code.’
    ‘Full cover. Full cover.’
    ‘Great,’ Bill muttered. The surveillance man grinned, enjoying the show.
    ‘It’s an email,’ Max said, completely wired. ‘It just came in, you want to hear it?’
    ‘Max.’
    ‘I’m here.’
    ‘Calm down.'
    ‘Did you hear me? It’s an email—’
    ‘For fuck’s sake,’ Bill exploded. ‘Get a grip, Max. Calm down and read us the sodding message.’
    Bill glanced at the surveillance man who nodded; he was getting it all on tape. He picked up a pen as well. ‘Now, Max,’ Bill said, ‘Whenever you’re ready.’
    ‘You ready? Okay. Here it is. It’s like a list. The first line says, “Re Sebastian Ward, further instructions". Then the next line’s the date, today, and then it says 5 p.m. The next line there’s an address, you want me to read it?'
    ‘Yes,’ Bill said, rolling his eyes.
    ‘Lower Park Bam,’ Max said; ‘Park, P.A.R.K. Brentwell near Lepping, Kent. No postcode.’
    ‘What about the money?'
    ‘Doesn’t mention money. Just Brentwell, near Lepping, Kent, that’s it.’
    When Bill looked at his watch I glanced at mine. Three thirty.
    ‘What happens now?’ Max said. ‘You going down there?’
    Bill tapped his hand on his thigh. The surveillance man was already digging through the pile of ordinance survey maps in the corner. He found what he was looking for and opened it out on the spare table. Bill went over and joined him, both of them studying the map.
    ‘Bill?’ said Max over the speaker.
    ‘Hang on, Max,’ I said.
    ‘Ignore the bastard,’ Bill muttered to me. He studied the map some more then he looked over his shoulder. ‘Max?’ he called.
    ‘Yeah?’
    ‘Stay put. If anything else comes through, call us. And fax over a copy of that e-mail.’ He told Max the number. A second later Max was quizzing him again, asking if he was going down to Brentwell.
    Bill stalked back to the sound gear. He asked if Max had the fax number. When Max said ‘yes,’ Bill said ‘goodbye’ and flicked