Free Play Dead by Bill James

adrift - so far off the most direct, quickest route from Ritson to Guild Square? We were told he’d been called by mobile to an urgent rendezvous in the Square. Why had he wandered off like that, apparently chosen such a devious approach?’
    â€˜Of course, there was
no
urgent rendezvous for him in the Square,’ Gerald said.
    â€˜But Mallen didn’t know this at the time, did he - or ever, come to that?’ Iles said. ‘The supposed rendezvous was part of a plot to get him on to ground where he could be efficiently and secretly executed, a proven spy.’
    â€˜On to the Elms, yes,’ Gerald said. He and Jane were both in their early thirties, Gerald about as tall as Jane, more heavily made, with ruthlessly cropped fair hair, and a boyish, confused look on his face most of the time. That might not be permanent. Iles often had this effect on people, whether they appeared boyish or otherwise. Harpur had never heard anyone actually ask, ‘God, is he real?’ about Iles, but he thought plenty would like to.
    â€˜Not simply on to the Elms, was it, though, Gerald?’ the ACC said.
    â€˜Oh, I see the point you’re making, Mr Iles,’ Jane said, a kind of awe at his cleverness in her tone.
    â€˜Yes?’ Gerald said. His mixed-up-kid face became more mixed-up. He obviously didn’t like being corrected by Iles, nor getting left behind by Jane. He had a middling-to-big job in IT.
    â€˜What Col has observed, in his acute style, is that Mallen had to be steered away from the usual track so he would enter the pot-shot precinct in front of the property that might one day be number fourteen Davant Road; in front of this property and specifically and exclusively this property,’ Iles said. ‘Elms, yes, but here, exactly, on Elms. Number fourteen Davant had a dedicated function that night - turret. The gunman was already installed upstairs there and prepared. But he could act only if Parry/Mallen occupied the ambush zone - a very limited zone. Accurate pistol shooting is not easy, not even for a skilled marksman. He needed Parry/Mallen to present himself as target in a very precise and predictable spot. There might have been rehearsals. They’d certainly have to come over to Elms pre-op and sort out the right incomplete house for their gunman - one with the staircase, manageable locks, and a bedroom window that gave a view of the appointed slab of terrain: from a view to a death.
    â€˜Of course, the house they picked would determine which
was
the appointed slab of terrain. Maybe one of them had done a previous, preparatory stroll through Elms towards number forteen, pretending to be Parry/Mallen, so the lad in the house could check angles and range. Then, fine, it’s all set up - or as much as it could be without Parry/Mallen actually included yet. But, these are perfectionists. The stand-in victim is told to make the approach just once more, double or treble checking. And what if he has a Biro in his pocket, the top section long lost, and puts it on the floor as a marker for the re-run or re-re-run? Instruction to himself: “Get to the Biro, get mock-hit, get mock-dead, get an Oscar.” There’d be enough moonlight for it to be seen - maybe even for it to glint a little, like a navigation buoy.
    â€˜Naturally, when Tom Parry/Mallen came that way on the actual slaughter night, he wouldn’t know he should seek out the exactly right bit of ground. But our pal with the gun does know which is the exactly right bit of ground and, having this as reference point, can adjust his aim and angle to suit any slight variation. Thorough planning and timetabling had gone into this termination project, this cleansing-of-the-firm project, but it did require some cooperation from Parry/Mallen - unconscious cooperation, obviously. He has to be in what Harpur would probably call “the right ballpark”.’ Iles sat back in his chair and drank a little tea.