James Rafferty didn’t like the room. There were too many people in it. He had to
squeeze into a corner at the back. And too many people seemed to be looking at him
as they passed.
He should have asked for a different place to meet. The Rotten Unicorn was his
drinking spot. Setting up a meeting there had been second nature. Now it felt wrong.
He checked his watch. The arranged time was almost there. If the other person didn’t
arrive, he would go home and drink everything he had at his place.
Sir Laurence Fletcher stepped through the door of the pub exactly on time. He pushed
through the crowd until he reached Rafferty’s table. He placed his bowler on the
table, leaned his cane against the nearby wall, and sat down casually in the second
chair facing away from the door.
“Hello, Mr. Rafferty,” said Sir Laurence. “Thank you for having this meeting with
me.”
“What’s going on?,” asked Rafferty. “I’ve been canned, and now I am talking to a
knight of the realm. We don’t exactly move in the same circles.”
“I have a job offer for you, Mr. Rafferty,” said Sir Laurence. “It is totally confidential.
You can’t tell this to a living soul.”
“What’s your job, Guv‘nor?,” asked Rafferty.
“We want you to harass Mick Brown until something changes,” said Sir Laurence.
“Excuse me,” said Rafferty.
“You heard me right,” said the knight. “We’re putting together a secret agency to do
things that no one else can do. Part of that is outside the law criminal intelligence
gathering. Mick Brown is the biggest target in the city at the moment. We want you
to harass him and his operations until the normal police can put together a case.”
“Going after Mick Brown was why I was canned,” said Rafferty. “He has too many
friends in the department. Evidence will never be enough to stop him. It will
disappear before he goes to trial.”
“Even so,” said Sir Laurence. “We want you onboard with this project. You are a
trained detective and you know the underground. And you’re deniable.”
“The deniable part seems more important than the rest,” said Rafferty.
“What we will be doing cannot be shared with other agencies for the Crown,” said Sir
Laurence. “If you are caught, you will be forced to pay the price for any crimes you
may have to commit in the course of a mission.”
“Why should I go along with this?,” said Rafferty. “I don’t see anything in it for me.”
“It’s the only way we can think of to hurt Brown and his organization.” Sir Laurence
scanned the crowd. “We need someone capable of hurting him before he does
something that can’t be fixed.”
“He’s already done that,” said Rafferty.
“We’re talking against the war effort,” said Sir Laurence. “We think Brown is
funneling money to the Jerries. We can’t prove it, but if he is, we want it to stop.”
“And you think I’m the man who can do that,” said Rafferty. He made a snort of a
laugh. “You’re asking for a lot, Guv’nor.”
“And I am not promising much in return,” said the knight. “There’s only so much I
can say at a recruitment meeting.”
“I’ll go along with this,” said Rafferty. “I shouldn’t. I should turn you in to the proper
authorities. I am curious about this new idea that Brown would help the Germans.”
“So you’re in?,” said Sir Laurence.
“I’m curious about it,” said Rafferty. “I don’t know how it could be proven in a court.
So far Brown has been good about getting rid of any evidence that might tie him to
a crime.”
“That’s why we want you to harass him until something shows up that he can’t make
go away,” said Sir Laurence. “I’m going to give you a key. It’s to a flat. Equipment
has been put there for you to use for your mission. Do not let anyone see your face
while you’re working for us. We can’t allow your identity to be compromised and
have it lead back to us.”
“I understand,” said Rafferty. “Are there any rules for this?”
“We don’t want you to be killed, and we don’t want you killing anybody either,” said
Sir Laurence. “The more we can try and break in court, the better my backer will like
it.”
“Who’s your backer?,” asked Rafferty.
“That will have to remain a secret,” said Sir Laurence. “This is the key to your
headquarters. This is the address.”
He handed over a card and two keys.
“Keep it secret.” The knight stood. “We want to make this work for the duration of
the war. That could be years away from now.”
“When do you want me to start?,” asked Rafferty. He put the key and card away in
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“Sometime in the next few days,” said Sir Laurence. He placed his bowler on his
head. “Anything we can get for you will be sent to the flat by messenger. If you need
something, call my office and ask for me.”
“Could you get me my job back?,” asked Rafferty.
“No,” said Sir Laurence. “Your peers have sentenced you to being an embarrassment
on the profession. No one wants you around to embarrass them further.”
“I suppose that’s honest enough,” said Rafferty. “I don’t like it.”
“I admit we’re recruiting you because you have every reason to avenge yourself on
Brown,” said Sir Laurence. “We are hoping that you are enough above it to keep a
clear perspective on the goal.”
“My life is in ruins,” said Rafferty. “I can’t promise that.”
“Do what you can,” said Sir Laurence. He picked up his cane. “I’ll be in touch with
some information, and how we think things are looking.”
Rafferty watched the other man leave. No one else seemed to notice his erstwhile new
employer. He stood. He put a few dollars down to cover his tab before leaving the
pub.
It didn’t take a detective to see why Fletcher had asked him to join their operation.
Mick Brown had ruined his life with a fake witness, a review board, and the
allegation that he had taken bribes. Of course he wanted to pay back the gang lord.
What did Fletcher expect him to do to harass Brown? He didn’t plan to kill anybody,
or create a false charge. What was left?
Did he want to walk this path any further than listening to the offer? How much
trouble would he be in if he were caught mucking about Brown after being fired for
chasing him?
How far was he willing to go to deal with Brown for some secret agency?
He didn’t have an answer for that question. He also didn’t know if he was dealing
with an agency at all. It might be a one man show with Fletcher as the boss. He was
decorated enough, and won a knight hood, but even knights could go bad.
At least he was honest about letting Rafferty know he would be out in the cold if
things went bad. That was an expected option as far as the detective was concerned,
and it had already happened once. How bad could a second time be?
Did he want to know what the inside of a prison looked like for a resident instead of
a visitor?
He walked along the street, heading for the address he had been given. Once there,
he could think about what he wanted to do. The safe house would tell him if he was
being misled about the ability of Fletcher and his mates.
It would be his last chance to turn down their job.
Rafferty noticed headlights behind him. He paused to light up a cigarette on the next
corner. He turned right and started away from the promised flat. The car turned to
follow him.
It could still be going in the same direction. London had a variety of places that more
than one person had to be at any time. He paused at the entrance of a bookstore that
looked ready to close. He reached for the door.
The car sped up. Rafferty hurled himself against the door. Bullets went by in front of
the small cracks of burning powder. He fell to the floor as the car rolled away.
The detective got to his feet. He wondered if the attack was because Brown knew he
was coming, or to clean up any loose lips.
It didn’t matter. Someone was gunning for him before he could see his bolthole. He
should take care of that before he tried anything else.
He hadn’t got a good look at the shooter. He had no way of knowing who was after
him. He certainly wasn’t going to confront Brown in his new persona. He needed a
weaker link to exploit.
He needed the person who had helped overturn the court case against Brown. That
was where he should start in this new job. Once he had that man running for his life,
he could try for someone else.
Rafferty turned and headed back the way he came. He wanted to avoid the police
response. He didn’t have time for his former colleagues. They would want to know
what had happened for hours. It was better for him to vanish.
He was the enemy now, more so than when he was on the force.
The detective watched the street as he walked toward the flat. He paused at the next
building to take a look around. No one was paying that much attention to him from
what he could see. He slipped back to his real destination and let himself in.
Rafferty examined the lobby before crossing to the steps. He headed up to the
apartment Fletcher was using as his base. He didn’t plan to stay there himself. He had
a few places of his own around town, and he didn’t want to depend on a flat where
the dogs might descend on him at a moment’s notice.
He thought that getting a place across the hall from the original place would give him
some kind of warning when the authorities arrived to take him in.
Then he could sneak out the back and slink away into the night.
He stepped out on the top floor and walked down to the flat. He looked along the
corridor. Someone might be looking at him from their peepholes. He couldn’t do
anything about that. He let himself inside the place with his key.
He turned on the light. The wallpaper matched the corridor outside. The same color
rug covered the floor. He thought he heard the sound of a refrigerator close by. He
noted the front part of the place looked like any parlor anywhere. A small kitchen sat
to his left. A closet formed a border that forced the kitchen space into a small L.
Rafferty checked the closet. Nothing hung inside it. More importantly there wasn’t
a body that could be blamed on him if someone suddenly wanted to have a look
around.
He found a small bathroom door on the other side of the kitchen space. He nodded
at the small tub and the shower above it. It would make it easy to wash blood off his
hands.
Two bedrooms took up the last of the apartment. One was an actual sleeping area with
a cabinet and closet for clothes. The other was an office with a desk and cork board
for him to use. A picture of Mick Brown had already been posted on the board. He
checked the desk and found files related to Brown and his minions. He checked the
closet. Someone had hung a battledress uniform from the bar. A cloth face mask made
from a small union jack hung from the hanger, laying on the collar of the shirt and
jacket. A chest sat at the bottom of the closet. He opened that and found a pistol with
bullets still in their boxes.
At least Fletcher had already given him the basis for his disguise when he braced
Brown.
What was his next move?
He decided that he needed to get some sleep. Tomorrow he would start on the witness
and see what he could squeeze out of the man. Maybe he could get something the
Crown could use for another case.
If he could prove the man committed perjury, that might be enough to get him back
on the force.
He smiled. That was a dream that would never happen. The only way to get back on
the force that way was to show Brown’s guilt over the radio. Only a public outcry
would make the Home Office think about things and change its mind. If some of the
ministers were in with Brown, he would never get his commission back.
Rafferty decided that he should see if the place had some food laid in. Then he could
think about reading the files and seeing where he could apply pressure.
Wearing a mask should help him offer a believable threat.
You weren’t threatening when the public knew there wasn’t really anything you could
do if you wanted to keep your case intact.