Dawn was breaking and the sky was streaked with orange behind the Belfast hills when Shepherd’s phone rang. It was Jack Bradford. Shepherd went into the garden to take the call. ‘Everything’s done,’ said Bradford. ‘He was in a hire car, nothing of any interest in it. His name’s Tariq Chadhar, twenty-three years old, had a driving licence with an address in Luton.’
‘Twenty-three?’
‘That’s what the licence said.’
‘And the guy looked twenty-three?’
‘Sure. You think the licence is fake?’
‘He’s young to be a professional hitman,’ said Shepherd.
‘They start young, these days,’ said Bradford. ‘Especially if he cut his teeth in Iraq or Afghanistan.’
‘Maybe,’ said Shepherd. ‘Liam and Katra still asleep?’
‘Like logs,’ said Bradford.
‘I owe you big-time,’ said Shepherd. ‘Are you and Billy okay to stay there until I’m back?’
‘As long as you need us,’ said Bradford.
‘And the house is like it never happened?’
‘So far as we’re concerned, Spider, it never did.’
Shepherd ended the call. He rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn’t run since he’d moved to Belfast and being confined to the house for hours on end was driving him crazy. He went upstairs, changed into a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a French Connection T-shirt. He pulled on a pair of training shoes and laced them. He preferred army boots but they would attract too much attention.
He let himself out of the front door, then jogged in his driveway as he worked out a decent route. He ran down the hill, his feet pounding on the pavement. The roads were deserted and there were no pedestrians about. A couple of dogs watched him run by, and he scattered a flock of pigeons. He was angry, but he wasn’t sure who with. The man who’d turned up at his house was dead, so there was no point in being angry with him. Shepherd doubted that the man the Bradfords had killed was the assassin who had been on Button’s trail; he was too young. And a professional wouldn’t have gone into a house where there were two bodyguards. So who was he, and what had he been doing at Shepherd’s house? Maybe Yokely’s mystery assassin was a red herring. Maybe the Asian had been working to a different agenda. Shepherd had come up against several Asians over the past few years. Maybe it was one of them or a relative out for revenge.
He upped the pace, his hands in tight fists. The big question was, how had the man known where Shepherd lived? He had only recently moved to Hereford and wasn’t on the electoral roll. And if the man had staked out the house before he went in, he must have known Shepherd wasn’t at home.
What if it had been the assassin Yokely had warned him about? Perhaps he had traced calls made from Shepherd’s mobile and been able to trace the landline that would have given him Shepherd’s home address – but, then, he’d also have known that Shepherd was in Belfast. So if the assassin had found Shepherd’s address, why had he sent an amateur?
The more he tried to solve the puzzle, the more his mind whirled. For some reason he was under threat, and that had to be his prime concern. Jack and Billy would stay with Liam and Katra, but Shepherd himself needed protection. He’d not bothered with a weapon while he was in Belfast because the nature of the investigation didn’t warrant it. But that had changed.
He ran for an hour through the streets of Belfast and was bathed in sweat by the time he arrived back at his house. He showered, changed into jeans and a denim shirt, then went into the garden and used his pay-as-you-go mobile to call Richard Yokely. He asked the American where he was. ‘The embassy in London.’
‘We need to talk,’ said Shepherd. ‘Face to face.’
‘Where are you?’ said Yokely.
‘Belfast. But I’m planning to be in England later today.’
The American made a clicking sound, then sighed. ‘I’ve got to fly later this morning so I could stop off where you are, but God help us if the press spots the plane. Last thing we want is another row over rendition flights.’
‘It’s important,’ said Shepherd.
‘I understand that. Let me see what I can arrange flight-plan-wise and I’ll get back to you.’ Yokely cut the connection.
Shepherd used his Jamie Pierce phone to call Button and asked her if he could take a couple of days off. ‘Problems at home?’ she asked.
‘I want to spend a bit of time with Liam,’ said Shepherd.
‘What about Elaine Carter?’
‘If Kinsella’s in London, she can’t do anything,’ said Shepherd. ‘She doesn’t fly so all you’ve got to do is keep a watch on the ports. If she goes she’ll take her car, so just red-flag her registration number.’
‘She doesn’t fly?’
‘She’s got a phobia.’
‘Interesting,’ said Button. ‘Okay, a couple of days away shouldn’t hurt. While you’re over, fix up an appointment with Caroline Stockmann, will you?’
‘It’ll be a pleasure,’ said Shepherd.
The general aviation terminal and apron were to the east of the main terminal at Belfast international airport and had their own entrance. Shepherd pulled up in his Audi and showed his ID card to a security guard, who checked his name against a list on a clipboard and waved him through.
A white Gulfstream with an American registration number was parked by a hangar belonging to a helicopter charter company. The steps were down but no one was around. Shepherd got out of his car and went up them.
Richard Yokely was sitting in one of the plane’s eight luxurious chairs, drinking coffee. He grinned when Shepherd appeared at the doorway. ‘Dan, come on in,’ he said. ‘We’ve got about twenty minutes. You want coffee?’
Shepherd shook his head. ‘Someone tried to attack my family. A Pakistani,British-born.’ He gaveYokely a piece of paper. ‘All the details I have are there. I don’t think it’s your man.’
Yokely ran his eyes down Shepherd’s notes. ‘Twenty-three?’ he said.
‘I think he was working with your man.’
Yokely looked at him over the top of his mug. ‘I’m not happy at you referring to him as my man.’
‘You know what I mean, Richard. You said there was a Muslim hitman after you and Charlie Button and the next thing I know a Muslim is breaking into my house with a gun.’
‘Your family okay?’ asked Yokely.
Shepherd could see that the American’s concern was genuine. ‘They’re fine, thanks. I had two guys looking after them and they took care of things.’
‘Permanently?’
‘There wasn’t time for kid gloves,’ said Shepherd. ‘And no one will be filing a police report.’
Yokely took another look at the piece of paper. ‘This isn’t a name I know,’ he said.
‘I’m assuming he was recruited locally. Which means that your man could try again. There’s enough fundamentalist nutters in this country for him to choose from. Do you have any idea where he is?’
‘I had his phone tracked for a while but he destroyed the Sim card so he’s off the radar again.’
‘Photograph? Anything I can work with?’
Yokely shook his head. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘But if I can get the information you want, what then?’
‘I’d take care of it.’
Yokely slipped the piece of paper into his jacket pocket and sipped his coffee. ‘Before, you said you weren’t happy about being proactive,’ he said.
Shepherd’s jaw tightened. ‘He attacked my family. He has to take the consequences. I haven’t changed my view on assassinating potential terrorists.’
‘I don’t remember that being an option,’ he said.