Ibrahim takes charge again. He wishes he’d known they had only forty-five minutes for the meeting. His life is measured out in hours. No matter – just go with the flow, Ibrahim. He has prepared a preamble of around eight minutes’ duration concerning the nature of evil, but he will have to save it for another day and dive straight in. Frustrating.
‘To get to the heart of the murder,’ he begins, ‘it seems we have two key questions yet to answer. One, where is the heroin now; and, two, who did Kuldesh ring after he rang Nina? Am I missing anything?’
‘Why did he buy a spade?’ says Ron.
‘That is covered under “Miscellaneous Facts” on your sheet, Ron,’ says Ibrahim.
‘My sincere apologies,’ says Ron. ‘So where’s the heroin?’
‘Nina says that Kuldesh has a lock-up garage in Fairhaven?’ says Joyce.
‘He did,’ says Nina. ‘No idea where.’
‘Perhaps the heroin’s there,’ says Joyce. ‘I bet we could track it down.’
‘Perhaps,’ continues Ibrahim. ‘Or perhaps it has already been sold. I believe heroin is much in demand. Certainly it doesn’t seem as if Mitch Maxwell has the heroin in his possession. So who does?’
‘I wonder,’ continues Elizabeth, ‘if Connie Johnson might have something more for us as well, Ibrahim. We still don’t know who Mitch was supposed to be selling to.’
‘I will be seeing her on Monday,’ says Ibrahim.
‘Who’s Connie Johnson?’ asks Jonjo.
‘She’s like Samantha Barnes but for drugs,’ says Joyce. ‘Perhaps I could bake her some scones, Ibrahim. I don’t suppose they have scones in prison.’
‘Sure,’ says Ron. ‘She wants to kill me. Bake her some scones.’
‘What will you be doing though?’ Joyce asks Elizabeth. ‘While you’re out and about?’
‘Things to do, people to see,’ says Elizabeth.
Joyce’s phone rings. She looks at the display, then answers.
‘Hello, Donna, this is a pleasant surprise, I was just thinking of you yesterday. There was an episode of Cagney & Lacey on ITV3 and Cagney, or maybe Lacey, the blonde one anyway, was in a bar and she said … oh … yes, of course, yes …’ Joyce, a little crestfallen, hands her phone to Elizabeth. ‘It’s for you.’
Elizabeth puts the phone to her ear. ‘Yes? Mmm hmm … Mmm hmm … Mmm … hmm. Yes … yes … that’s none of your business … yes … thank you, Donna, I am most grateful.’
Elizabeth hands the phone back to Joyce.
‘Cagney or Lacey was in a bar, you see, and –’
‘Ibrahim,’ says Elizabeth, ‘are you free this afternoon?’
‘I was hoping to do Zumba,’ says Ibrahim. ‘They have a new instructor and he –’
‘You’re going to Petworth with Joyce,’ says Elizabeth. ‘I need you to speak to Samantha Barnes immediately.’
‘Well, I do like antiquing,’ says Ibrahim. ‘And I’m also very interested in heroin smuggling. The transgressive has –’
Elizabeth holds up a hand to stop him. ‘Donna has been checking my phone records.’
‘Aye, aye,’ says Ron.
‘At 4.41 p.m. on Tuesday I made a call to Samantha Barnes.’
Ibrahim looks up from his notes. ‘And?’
‘And,’ says Elizabeth, ‘Samantha Barnes’s number showed up in the phone records as Code 777.’
28
They are crawling along in traffic on the A23, just north of Coulsdon, but Stephen, in the front with Bogdan, seems to be enjoying the drive. He hasn’t stopped asking Bogdan questions since they left Coopers Chase.
‘There’s a museum,’ says Stephen. ‘In Baghdad. Have you been?’
This is the second time he has asked this question.
‘Have I been to Baghdad?’ asks Bogdan. ‘No.’
‘Oh, you must,’ says Stephen.
‘OK, I will,’ says Bogdan.
It was bad timing: Elizabeth wishes she hadn’t had to cut the meeting short like that. But Viktor has a tight schedule, and she must see him. And Viktor must see Stephen.
Joyce saw them all getting into the car together, and didn’t even wave goodbye, so perhaps she suspects something is awry. She hopes Joyce’s mission to see Samantha Barnes will distract her. It had been a lucky guess on Elizabeth’s part, a hunch, to have Donna check Samantha’s number to see if it came back as Code 777. Had Kuldesh really rung Samantha? To ask advice? To sell her the heroin?
Elizabeth tries to put these questions out of her head. She needs to concentrate on far more important matters.
‘Things like you wouldn’t believe,’ says Stephen. ‘Thousands of years old. Puts things into a bit of perspective. You ever touched something six thousand years old?’
‘No,’ says Bogdan. ‘Ron’s car maybe?’
‘We must go there, Elizabeth, we must all go. Get on to the old travel agent.’
‘They don’t have travel agents no more,’ says Bogdan, using a bus lane to bypass a line of traffic.
‘No travel agents,’ says Stephen. ‘News to me.’
‘I’ll look into it,’ says Elizabeth. ‘Baghdad.’ What she would give for that trip. Stephen with an arm around her waist. Cold vodka in the Middle Eastern sun.
Bogdan now drives onto the hard shoulder to undertake another car.
‘You drive terribly,’ say Elizabeth. ‘And illegally.’
‘I know,’ says Bogdan. ‘But I promised you we would arrive at 1.23.’
‘We have all the time in the world,’ says Stephen. ‘Time swirls about us, laughing at us.’
‘Tell that to Google maps,’ says Bogdan.
‘Where are we off to?’ says Stephen.
He has also asked this before.
‘London,’ says Elizabeth. ‘To see an old friend.’
‘Kuldesh?’ Stephen asks.
‘Not Kuldesh, no,’ says Elizabeth. She feels guilty. She has been asking Stephen about Kuldesh an awful lot. Known associates, that sort of thing. She even mentioned Samantha Barnes and Petworth, but not a flicker.
‘Old friend of mine, or old friend of yours?’ Stephen asks. ‘Can we pop into the Reform Club on the way back? They have a book I’m after in the library.’
‘A friend of mine, but someone you’ve met,’ says Elizabeth. ‘Someone who can help.’
Stephen turns in his seat to look at her. ‘Who needs help now?’
‘We all do,’ says Bogdan. ‘If we gonna make it by 1.23.’
The traffic doesn’t let up all the way to Battersea. London is clogged.
Elizabeth barely misses London now. She and Stephen would be up and down here all the time, exhibitions, plays, lunch at the club. They once saw Professor Brian Cox give a lecture at the Albert Hall. The majesty of the cosmos. We all come from stars, and we all return to the stars. She had enjoyed the lecture, but there were lasers she could have lived without.
Had she really understood then that those were the best of times? That she was in heaven? She thinks she did understand, yes. Understood she had been given a great gift. Doing the crossword in a train carriage, Stephen with a can of beer (‘I will only drink beer on trains, nowhere else, don’t ask me why’), glasses halfway down his nose, reading out clues. The real secret was that when they looked at each other, they each thought they had the better deal.
But, however much life teaches you that nothing lasts, it is still a shock when it disappears. When the man you love with every fibre starts returning to the stars, an atom at a time.
And London? London is slow, grey and clogged. You have to wade through it now. Is that what life is to become without Stephen? A slow trudge of exhaust fumes and brake lights?
Bogdan tries every move in the book, while Stephen points out landmarks. ‘The Oval! The Oval, Elizabeth!’