The Pure

be hung. He prodded inside it with a wire hanger and drew out roll after roll of fifty-pound notes and hundred-dollar bills, all wrapped in cellophane. Placing these in a rucksack, he changed his torn and bloodied clothes and went into the bathroom. The light there worked and he spent some time cleaning his face and wounds, rubbing the blood out of his hair in the sink. Then he dried himself off and, with the spoon that he used for scraping the shower head, prised some tiles from the wall. They came away with a dry cracking sound, followed by a cloud of dust. Behind, in a cobwebbed cavity, was a newspaper-wrapped package containing a pocket-sized pistol – a 9mm Rohrbough R9, designed for close-range combat – some ammunition, and a brand new mobile phone in several different parts. There was also a buff folder, the all-important folder. These went into his rucksack too. He took one final look around the devastated apartment. Then he left.
    The motion-sensitive light came on as Uzi stepped into the foyer. Somebody must have fixed the fusebox. He blinked in the light. Before he had set foot on the staircase, Squeal appeared from his apartment, looking dazed.
    ‘You OK?’ said Uzi.
    ‘Yeah. Yeah, I think so.’
    Uzi hesitated for a moment, then helped him back into his flat and sat him on the sofa.
    ‘What’s going on with you?’ said Uzi. ‘Too much skunk?’
    ‘Guilty as charged,’ said Squeal.
    ‘Do you remember calling me?’
    ‘Oh yeah. I was just having a bit of a smoke when I heard people moving around in your gaff. It looked dodgy, the lights were off. So I called you, then my phone cut out.’ He looked down at his phone. ‘Looks all right now.’
    ‘Then what happened?’
    ‘Not sure. I think I was grabbed from behind or something, but that might have been a dream. I was pretty out of it. Something over my face. Then nothing until just now. Guess I fell asleep.’ He laughed, once, loudly. ‘Did you find out who it was?’
    ‘Burglars,’ said Uzi, ‘but it’s all right now.’ A strange smell was clinging to Squeal’s dreadlocks. Uzi leant closer and sniffed. He’d know that smell anywhere. Sickly sweet to the point of being nauseating. Desflurane ether gas.
    ‘What’s up?’ said Squeal. ‘I smell bad?’
    ‘So what else is new?’ said Uzi.
    ‘Sorry, man,’ said Squeal. ‘I’m just freaked out about my mum. She’s taken a turn for the worse.’
    Uzi stopped. From his pocket he took a roll of bank notes and pressed it into Squeal’s palm.
    ‘What’s this, dude?’
    ‘I’m going to lie low for a while,’ said Uzi. ‘You know how it is. Go and see your mother, OK?’
    Squeal looked at the money in disbelief. ‘Are you sure?’
    ‘Sure. Then when you get back I’m going to thrash you at pudding wars.’
    Squeal broke into a grin. ‘Never. I’m on a roll now. I’ll pay you back, OK?’
    Uzi gripped his hand with unusual tightness and held it for several seconds. Then he turned, left the apartment and made his way downstairs to the street.

 
18
    From now on it’s simple, Uzi told himself as he strode towards the tube station. It couldn’t be simpler. Loyalty is dead. I’m afraid of nothing. I believe in myself, I know who I am. Outside the station, he put the mobile phone together and switched it on. Then he took from his inside pocket a business card and dialled the number. It rang.
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘OK. I’m in.’
    Liberty paused for a moment. ‘Adam, how nice to hear from you.’
    ‘I’m in. Whatever it is, I’m in.’
    ‘I’m so glad you’ve changed your mind.’
    ‘Yeah, yeah. What’s the first step?’
    ‘Why don’t we meet for dinner?’
    ‘Where?’
    ‘Kensington Roof Gardens? They do delightful seafood, and they have a superb wine list. Two hours’ time. Ask for Eve Klugman. They’ll show you to my private dining room.’
    ‘I’ll be there.’ He hung up and looked around him. London buzzed like a hive, lights streaked by on the road. Overhead, a streetlight flickered. He lit a cigarette and, from memory, dialled Avner’s number.
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘It’s me.’
    ‘What number are you calling from? I almost didn’t pick up.’
    ‘New phone.’
    ‘Are you calling about the operation? If not, don’t bother.’
    ‘I’m going to do it.’
    ‘When? You’ve been saying that for ages.’
    ‘As soon as I can.’
    ‘You’ve been saying that for ages too, my brother.’
    ‘This time I mean it. Schedule the meeting, schedule the meeting.