‘Any advice?’
I shrugged. There wasn’t a training manual for this job.
‘Think on your feet?’ I suggested.
He frowned, obviously expecting more.
I sucked my teeth, trying to find words to describe my methodology. It wasn’t easy. Interviewing was tricky. So many variables.
‘Say as little as possible,’ I offered at last. ‘Best of all, say nothing at all. Less room for confusion. Wait them out and they’ll start talking. Once they’re talking, never interrupt, keep the flow going.’
‘How about when what they’re saying isn’t right? I mean, When you know it isn’t right?’
‘Doesn’t matter. Wait until they stop talking, then go back over it if you have to.’
He nodded. He didn’t look convinced. He had what some people call a lived-in face. More slept-in than lived-in, I’d say. Un-ironed. I’d never met him before, but there’d been three more just like him in the last few years. Learning the job. Watch and learn.
It was a new scheme, still on trial, but I had my doubts about its value. This man, about my age, was typical. A Londoner, sent out to learn the job from the boys up north. A solid educational background behind him, strong sporting prowess, sky-high IQ, he’d have been head-hunted, appeals made to his sense of public duty by experts in the field. I knew this because, apart from not being a Londoner, I had the same background. Common ground didn’t make this new system any more workable.
‘The key word is patience,’ I continued. ‘Pushing, being direct, has its place, but only as a last resort. A direct approach rarely works.’ I stopped for a moment, seeking an analogy.
‘It’s the difference between knocking down the door with a sledgehammer and knocking politely. Try being polite first, softly softly, and then be prepared to sneak in through the kitchen window if all else fails.’ I wasn’t over-impressed by the burglary metaphor and I could see I wasn’t the only one.
‘Start off heavy, you’ve nothing left in reserve. They’ll clam up, hold something back. It’s a battle – trying to tease out info without them realising the significance of what they’re saying. Always try to have something up your sleeve, then it’s all about perseverance and patience.’
He sighed. Took a sip of his drink. ‘Another?’
I shook my head. ‘What am I drinking?’
‘Dunno. Gin and tonic?’
‘Not exactly. Large tonic, ice and lemon, looks like a G and T. A clear head without appearing a kill-joy. What I drink in here. In a rough pub, I’ll have a pint. Make it last. Blend in, yeah?’
He looked mildly annoyed. ‘I know that.’
‘I wasn’t scoring points. Just wondering what you notice. Reason I’m asking is the man we’re looking at just came in.’
He shifted slightly, then checked. Didn’t turn round. Good sign.
‘What’s he look like?’
I shrugged. ‘Looks like everybody else. That’s what makes him so good at what he does. He’s over there, talking with the barman. I’m watching.’
‘That’s important, is it? Looking like everyone else?’
I took another sip of my drink, set the glass back on its coaster. ‘Look like a criminal and you become a criminal. A cheap poorly executed tattoo suggests an institutional background, even to the dimmest beat constable. Dress respectably; act like you lead a blameless life and nobody gives a second glance. The right clothes and the right attitude bring invisibility. Perfection is that child in the school photograph that everyone skips over. The boy in the second row, dressed like all the other kids, but lacking any distinctive feature who may as well not have bothered turning up on the day of the school photograph. By the time the photograph becomes old and faded, even his former classmates will fail to remember anything about him. Not even his name will live on. That’s perfection.’
‘That’s our man, is it?’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘That’s him. Never arrested. Never charged. Even though he’s the go-to man for this type of work.’
‘An enforcer, you said earlier.’
I nodded. ‘Fixer may be a better word. He doesn’t go around breaking legs, but he’ll know the sort of people who’ll do that for a price. He puts the two parties together. Very good at it too.’
‘Why are we interested?’
‘He’s my link to the man who decides these things. Who gets a kicking, who gets to disappear for good. Under the radar, safe and sound. Thanks to our friend over there. He’s not our target. Never will be. The man who gives him his orders, that’s who I want to get close to.’
‘Fuck me.’
I smiled, ruefully. ‘Yeah. If there was any other way, I’d have done it by now. He’s new, the big man. Come up fast. No weaknesses, or none I’ve found so far.’
‘That’s risky though? Last resort?’
‘Very much so. You’ll be back in Willesden by the time this job amounts to anything. Patience, yeah? Remember?’
He reached out, gripped my forearm, tightly. ‘Willesden?’
I took his fingers, prized them away from my arm. ‘Need to know who’s asking all these questions, don’t I? My control doesn’t know you from Adam, just that you’re up here to see how we do things. No reason for him to know. But, I’m a bit picky. Like to know who I’m talking to. When I’m on a job, I can be anyone. Whatever the job dictates. The other side of living like that is knowing other people are who they say they are.’
He grinned. ‘Fair enough.’
‘You’re interesting. Six months in the job, not been out in the field yet. That’s all I was told. All I needed to know, they reckon.’ I lifted my drink, toasted him, mockingly. ‘You’re a linguist, speak French, German, Russian. Played squash to county standard, until the job ended your social life. Live-in girlfriend until a few weeks ago, went back to live with her folks. The job again?’
He nodded, guardedly.
‘You’re thinking, what else does he know, right? ‘Course you are. Enough to know you’re sound. Enough to give me an edge. Keep something up my sleeve, like I said before.’
I stood up, forestalling his questions. ‘On the move,’ I said. ‘I’ll take the other party, see where he goes. You stick with the fixer. Don’t lose him. See you back here, about half six, okay?’ About half-past the hour was sufficiently vague as to be realistic. Allowed a bit of leeway. Saying ‘see you at six’ was draconian. Far too restrictive. The job wasn’t an exact science. Best to start out that way, let him know what to expect.
‘What other party?’
The one my man has been studiously avoiding looking at for the past ten minutes. Over there, brown leather jacket. He’ll go soon, another minute or so. That was a meet. A very cautious one. Looks like a big job, so don’t lose him. He’ll have to report back now; tell whoever’s putting the money up that the fixer knows he’s interested. He’ll be off soon. He doesn’t know you, but try not to let him know you’re following him.’
I walked away, turned up my collar as the night air’s chill hit me. I doubted my protégé would get very far. The man I’d asked him to follow, the fixer, was an expert at losing himself when he had to. It didn’t matter. The man in the brown leather jacket was the key, the link to the client, and I’d no intention of losing him.
