May Day - Part Twelve

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Bodie pushed ahead, stopping between Doyle and Martell. Doyle moved around him so that they both fronted the arms dealer. He wasn't going to create a scene, no matter what Bodie thought. Whatever Bodie believed, they had to get through this first.

"Hello, Marty," Bodie said, affably. "Don't mind my partner, he's having a rough day."

"Hmm. No doubt. You know, Bodie, this goodwill of yours is becoming a trifle inconvenient." Martell fished around in his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope, which he held out to Bodie with one gloved hand. "The key will open a left luggage locker at St Pancras Station. Replace the contents and mail the key back to me when you're done."

Well, Doyle thought, Martell might be a slimy bastard but at least he was a well organised one. And careful – there'd be no prints on the envelope or its contents. He decided to push him a little.

"You'd know a few… specialists in your line of work, wouldn't you?"

Martell's eyes flicked quickly back to Doyle, wary now.

"I might. It depends what you're after."

"Surveillance. Infrared cameras, remote observation. That kind of thing. Someone who could set up a complete coverage of a building, from entrance to cellars…"

"Or broom cupboards," Bodie muttered.

"…without anyone being the wiser." Thank you, Bodie. What the fuck was he doing, giving out hints like that? Doyle gritted his teeth and waited for Martell's reply.

"Jorgensen's in jail and Morgan's working for the Arabs. I know a couple of others, domestic jobs mostly."

"We already have names." That was a lie – he had one name, and a nasty memory to go with it. But it was worth pushing Martell for more. "What we need is information. Last known place of residence and so on."

Martell considered this for a moment. "You have to realise I have legitimate business dealings with these people. It wouldn't go down well if they knew I gave you anything."

"So what will it cost?" Doyle reached for his wallet.

Marty dismissed him with a wave of his hand and a slight sneer. "Put it away, dear boy. You'll owe me a favour, that's all. And we never had this conversation."

"We'll owe you nothing," Bodie said, "unless you give us something worthwhile."

He nodded, a slight movement of his head towards Doyle, as though seeking confirmation. Right now, that was honest reassurance enough.