London Calling - James Craig [105]
‘Nice.’
‘Yeah.’ Dom stood up and gave his legs a stretch. ‘Thanks again for lunch.’
‘My pleasure,’ Carlyle smiled. ‘You’re a cheap date.’
‘Yes, I am.’ Dom scratched at Neil Young’s head, around the spot where his own left nipple should be. ‘By the way, one other bit of background info for you …’
‘Yes?’
‘… my man Gideon served under Christian Holyrod in Afghanistan, three years ago.’
‘What did he think of him?’
‘Gideon doesn’t talk that much, about anything. I think he probably has some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder. That or he’s just bored shitless at being home. Either way, I think he felt that Holyrod was basically fine.’
‘Insightful.’
‘It tells you something,’ Dom shrugged. ‘Guys like Gideon, they’re in it for the buzz, essentially. It’s like extreme sports with automatic weapons, and you can actually kill people. Can you imagine the rush that must provide?’
‘No.’ Carlyle had never even held a gun in his life, for which he was very grateful. He didn’t want to think about what it might feel like.
‘Well, you always did lack a certain imagination.’ Dom smiled. ‘Anyway, as regards your average squaddie, as long as the public-schoolboy officer class don’t spoil their fun too much, they put up with them. Holyrod was well enough liked, I think. Gideon could equally take him or leave him.’
‘Not exactly a ringing endorsement,’ Carlyle said.
Dom fixed him with a firm stare. ‘At least he didn’t take out his Browning Hi-Power and put a 9 mm slug in Holyrod’s back halfway up some mountain somewhere.’
‘So?’
‘So … Holyrod was a proper soldier, John. He’s not really a politician – not deep down in his DNA. He’s had experience of doing a proper job.’
‘So?’
‘So, he’s probably someone you can do business with.’ He paused. ‘Or, at least, he’s more likely to be someone you can do business with than the rest of them are.’
‘I’ll bear it in mind,’ Carlyle said, and sat for a minute in silent contemplation. The pigeon made one last foray towards the crisp packet before giving up and wandering off in search of a handout from some tourist. For a second, he even felt a bit sorry for the bird, before quickly returning to his own problems. ‘What do you think this is all about, Dom?’
‘I don’t know, mate,’ Dom sniffed, ‘and really I don’t care. That’s your job.’
‘Apparently.’
Dom eyed at him carefully. ‘I know that you must understand just what a tricky situation you currently find yourself in.’
‘Yes.’
‘So it doesn’t need me to tell you how careful you need to be in dealing with people like this.’
‘Why not?’ said Carlyle, smiling. ‘Everyone else has.’
‘That’s good,’ Dom grinned. ‘It means people are looking out for you. Be grateful, you dumb fucking plod, and accept their advice.’
‘I will.’
‘I’ll look out for your case on the news. Let me know how it goes.’ The mobile in the back pocket of Dom’s jeans started ringing, but he ignored it. ‘And remember …’
‘Yes?’
Dom cranked up his air guitar. ‘Keep on rockin’ in the free world, baby!’
Neil Young started playing inside Carlyle’s head as he watched Dom saunter out of the garden, and back into the hustle and flow of the city. What should he do next? He had started making a list in his head, when his own phone went.
‘Inspector?’
‘Rosanna, how are you?’ He was happy enough to get the call, since it delayed the need for him to do anything else.
‘You recognised my voice!’ she chirruped happily.
Carlyle stretched out on the bench and stifled a post-prandial yawn. For most people, lunch hour was now over and the garden had largely emptied. Carlyle had the place pretty much to himself, aside from a bag lady asleep on a nearby bench and a couple of tourists who stood consulting a guidebook. ‘I don’t have that many celebrity contacts,’ he replied.
‘So that’s what I am?’
‘To me, everybody is another contact.’
She laughed. ‘Then I guess that’s something