Whispers Under Ground

Lesley. ‘Not on the train, not on the tracks not anywhere between the stairs at Holland Park to the platform at Oxford Circus. We’ve looked.’
    ‘And the funny thing is,’ I said. ‘I wasn’t shot at with a pistol, I was shot at by a Sten gun. And trust me on this, it’s very easy to tell the difference.’
    ‘Not to mention simple to differentiate in the ballistics lab,’ said Lesley.
    ‘So I think there was at least two of them,’ I said, and took a sip of my coffee. It was vile. ‘Two big-eyed and pasty-faced geezers, and I don’t think either of them are from Peckham. Are they?’
    ‘They’re brothers,’ said Zach and you had to admire him, if only for his persistence. But it didn’t matter, because in an interview a lie can almost be as good as the truth. That’s because all good lies contain as much truth as the liar thinks they can get away with. This truth accumulates and, because it’s easier to remember the truth than something you’ve made up, it remains consistent where the lies do not. All you have to do is keep asking variations on the same questions, until you can sort one from the other. That’s why helping the police with their inquiries can take you all day – if you’re lucky.
    ‘Are they fae?’ asked Lesley.
    Zach gave a startled glance at the tape recorder and then at the CCTV camera.
    ‘Are you sure you’re allowed to talk about that stuff?’ he asked.
    ‘Are they?’ I asked.
    ‘You know you guys are the only people that say “fae”,’ said Zach. ‘Out there we don’t call people fae. Not if you want to keep your teeth.’
    ‘You said your dad was a fairy,’ I said.
    ‘Well he was,’ said Zach.
    ‘The Rivers said you were half goblin.’
    ‘Yeah I ain’t going to say nothing against the Rivers, but they aren’t half a bunch of stuck-up cunts,’ said Zach getting loud at the end.
    At last, I thought, a point of entry.
    ‘Is your friend Stephen a goblin, then?’ asked Lesley.
    ‘You shouldn’t go around calling people a goblin unless you know what the word means,’ said Zach. his voice back to its cheery cockney geezer normal. But I could hear the agitation underneath. Plus he’d started drumming his fingers on the tabletop.
    ‘What should we call them, then?’ asked Lesley.
    ‘You,’ said Zach pointing at me and then Lesley. ‘Shouldn’t be calling them anything at all – you should be leaving them alone.’
    ‘One of them shot at me,’ I said. ‘With a Sten gun. And another one buried me under the ground, under the fucking ground, Zach, and left me for dead. So I don’t think leaving them alone is going to be a bleeding option.’
    ‘They were just defending …’ started Zach and then caught himself.
    ‘Defending what?’ I asked.
    ‘Themselves,’ said Zach. ‘You’re the Isaacs man – we know all about you from back through the annals of history. We all know what happens if you’re a square peg in a round hole.’
    So definitely fae, I thought.
    ‘So who were they defending?’ I asked.
    ‘Self-defence,’ said Zach.
    Outright lie.
    ‘What’s his brother’s name?’ I asked.
    Hesitation. ‘Marcus,’ said Zach – another lie.
    ‘Does he eat a lot of greens?’ asked Lesley. ‘Because the Nolan brothers were delivering a ton of vegetables for just two people.’
    ‘They live an active, healthy life,’ said Zach.
    ‘Zach,’ I said. ‘How stupid do you think we are?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ said Zach. ‘Do you want it on a scale of one to ten?’
    ‘Who are they?’ asked Lesley.
    We saw him open his mouth to say – who’s they? But Lesley slapped her palm on the table. ‘My face itches, Zach,’ she hissed. ‘The sooner you tell us the truth the sooner I can go home and get out of this mask.’
    ‘Who are they?’ I said.
    ‘They’re just people,’ said Zach. ‘You need to leave them alone.’
    ‘It’s too late for that,’ I said. ‘Has been since your friend shut down the Central Line during the Christmas rush. They’re talking a closed platform for up to six months, they’re talking millions of pounds. Do you really think they’re going to be satisfied if I just stroll up and say “we know who did it but we’ve decided to leave them alone”?’
    Zach slumped forward and pressed his head against the tabletop and groaned – theatrically.
    ‘Give us something we can take upstairs,’ said Lesley. ‘Then we can do a deal.’
    ‘I want assurances,’ said Zach.
    ‘You can have my