6
‘I know it’s risky. That’s why I want you to come. I’m thinking if the wheels start to fall off you’ll be there to help put them back on. But I’ll know more about the job after nine . . .’
I didn’t answer; I wanted him to work and I wanted to know more about Whitewall and Baz, and why he needed to steal documents from a safe.
‘Look, I’ve already started to protect myself, and FedEx’d the first tape of the fat one to Hazel. I told her not to open it, just keep it safe. There’s f*ck all on it, but at least it’s a start.’ He got up and headed for the brew kit above the minibar. ‘It’s all right, Nick, really.’ He pointed at the bed. ‘Park your arse and I’ll make us a nice cup of tea.’ He sounded like somebody’s granddad. Which of course he was.
I moved the map out of the way and sat down again. My face felt hot. What was I so worried about – the job, or his safety? I couldn’t work it out.
The little plastic kettle started to bubble. Charlie had his back to me. ‘So, lad. You with me?’
He ripped open a couple of sachets and dropped the teabags into two tiny coffee cups. We weren’t going to get much of a brew out of them. ‘Just like old times, eh?’
‘No, Charlie, it’s not like old times. We’re using our own passports. We don’t know what the f*ck we’re heading into. We are not in control of the job.’ I stared at his back. ‘I’m not doing it unless we know more . . .’
I tailed off, exasperated. ‘What the f*ck am I saying we for?’
Charlie liked that one. His shoulders shook so much it looked like he was chuckling with his whole body.
He calmed down after a minute or two and had another go at digging into the milk tubs with the back of a spoon. ‘You think I don’t know all that stuff? It’s why I need you here, lad, like I said. To ride shotgun.’
He turned and handed me the brew.
‘What do you say?’ His eyes had turned a bit liquid, and I wasn’t sure it was just because of the laughter. ‘Piece of piss if we’re two up . . .’
I took a sip of the weakest tea I’d ever tasted. ‘What’s his name again?’
‘Zurab Baz-your-father. Something like that.’
‘For f*ck’s sake, you don’t even know his name. You on drugs or something?’
‘Hang on, I remember. It’s Bazgadze. But his name doesn’t matter, does it? I know where he lives and it’s not as if we’re going to see him. We do the recces today and get on with it tonight. Then we’re gone. I’ll even pick up a nice bottle of duty-free, to take home for Hazel. Do you know this country invented wine?’
I moved the map so I could stretch out, and dumped the tea on the bedside table. ‘How was she?’
‘A bit scratchy, but she knows you’re with me.’ He was all smiles again. ‘Silky was out riding with Julie.’
I realized I was smiling too. It had only been a few days, but I was missing her. I’d got used to being around her. It was certainly a lot more fun hanging out with her than with this old f*cker.
Charlie had touched a nerve and he knew it. ‘If you like, you can even get back into Hazel’s good books by saying you’re dragging me back, we’re not even doing the job. What do you reckon?’ He thumbed the number into his cell. ‘Go on, give her a ring.’ He threw it on the bed. ‘I told her you’d try and talk me out of it anyway.’
I left the cell where it landed. ‘What if we can’t get in tonight? There a Plan B?’
‘Nope. Now or never. Go on, give her a call.’
He gave up his own attempts to drink the undrinkable. ‘I’m staying, lad. I’ve got no choice. She thinks we’re still in Turkey, by the way. Tell her you’re bringing me back tomorrow.’ The smile had gone. This was serious. ‘Please.’
I picked it up and hit the call button. It took an age before the ring tone started, but it got lifted after just one ring.
‘No,’ I said. ‘It’s Nick.’
‘When’s your flight? Do you want us to meet you at the airport?’
‘Tomorrow. He’s seen sense at last.’
‘Thank you so much, Nick.’ I didn’t think I’d ever heard anyone sound so relieved. ‘Thank you, thank you. When are you getting in?’
‘It’s going to depend if there’s direct flights out of Istanbul. It’s a nightmare. Is Silky there?’
I heard Hazel’s muffled reply, then Silky’s voice. ‘I’m missing you, Nick Stein. You’re coming back tomorrow?’
‘Um, listen, we’re on a cell, it’s costing a bomb. I’ll call you when we get a flight, OK?’
‘OK.’
‘And Silky?’
‘What?’
‘I miss you too, box-head.’
I cut the phone and threw it back on the bed. ‘Thank f*ck this isn’t a video phone.’
‘You don’t want her to see you looking miserable?’
‘No, I don’t want her to see this jumper.’
I picked up the map. ‘Right,’ I said. ‘How the f*ck are we going to crack this, then?’