“Some,” Sean said easily. “She’s not averse to walking a thin line when it comes to the law.”
“So maybe that receiving charge against Jacob was more down to his wife at the time,” I said.
Sean nodded. “I think you could be right,” he admitted. “She’s been living with Eamonn – or off him, actually – for the past two years.”
I frowned. “I always got the impression that she was the one with the money.”
“On paper, yes,” Sean agreed. “It’s a case of being asset rich but cash poor. She’s got plenty of property but it’s tied in to long-term leases. She’s also got a portfolio of stuff that’s up for redevelopment and will be worth something in the future but is worth bugger all now. Less than that, in fact, because she bought high and prices have temporarily fallen back. If this divorce from Jacob goes ahead and she has to pay him off any time soon, she’s going to be financially crippled.”
“Surely they won’t still have to divide everything up now, will they – not after all this time?” I said.
Sean shrugged. “Makes no difference how long they’ve been apart,” he said. “Assets are divided at the time of divorce, not separation.”
I recalled my last conversation with Clare at the hospital. “Do you think that might be the reason Jamie got himself in deep enough water that he had to go to Clare for money?” I asked. “If his mother’s in debt, he might have thought that getting tangled up with Eamonn’s business would somehow help get her out of it?”
“But instead he’s got himself into a bigger mess,” Sean finished for me.
“Mm. Clare said he’d got himself in over his head and I assumed – or rather, she let me assume – that she was talking about the Devil’s Bridge Club. But she also said it wasn’t those lads who were the problem, but whoever was after them.”
“I wonder what she meant by that,” Sean murmured, almost to himself. “Why would Eamonn be after them? What have they done?”
“Maybe nothing yet,” I said. “Maybe it’s what they’re planning on doing on this trip. Could it be a territorial thing, do you think?”
“Could be,” Sean said, but he didn’t sound convinced. “Everything we’ve dug up on Eamonn suggests he’s highly territorial.” He shrugged. “Has to be, I suppose.”
“Is that really enough of a reason to kill Slick, badly injure Clare and then Sam, and have a go at me as well?” I said. “Bit drastic, isn’t it?”
Sean fixed me with a look. “This is Eamonn we’re talking about.”
I remembered the venom and the easy violence the Irishman had displayed that day at Jacob and Clare’s. “Good point,” I said. “And well made.”
“Hmm, I thought so,” he said, giving me a lazy smile that died away as his own memories of the same incident surfaced. His face grew hard and just as ruthless as Eamonn’s, in its own way. “Just goes to show,” he said with a smile that did nothing to warm up his words, “you should have let me finish him while I had the chance.”
***
When Jamie had recovered enough to prise himself away from the railing, the three of us went back inside together. As we moved into the main cabin I got that same watched feeling down my spine and paused, scanning the crowd again.
“What is it?” Sean asked.
“I just can’t help getting the feeling somebody’s keeping an eye on us,” I muttered. “It’s probably just me being paranoid.”
“I don’t think so,” Sean said. “You go ahead. I think I’ll do a quick recce.”
When Jamie and I walked back into First Class, the others turned and looked at us.
“Can’t leave him alone, eh, Charlie?” William said. “We saw you out there.”
“Who’s the guy?” Daz asked quietly. He’d gone very still, the way some people do when they’re very angry. He was staring intently at me.
“That’s Sean,” I said carefully. “I work for him. I didn’t know he was coming and I didn’t invite him.” But I’m bloody glad he’s here.
“You work for him?” Tess said with scorn in her voice. “Looking at the two of you I bet I can guess what form the interview took.”
“I bet you can’t,” I bit back.
I still had the two spent 9mm rounds I’d put myself in the path of to save Sean’s life. Two slightly flattened copper mushrooms. I had them with me now, in fact. They were in the top pocket of my leather jacket like some kind of good luck charm, but I wasn’t about to show them to her.
“What’s he riding?” Daz wanted to know.
“A mate’s lent him a Blackie,” I said.
William raised his eyebrows. “I say, steady on old girl,” he drawled, exaggerating his educated accent. “Don’t want to offend the coloured chappies, what?”
“OK – it’s a Honda CBR1100XX Super Blackbird,” I said and he grinned at me.
“Well, the bike should be quick enough, but what about the rider?” Daz said.
“Hang on a minute. That’s not the point,” Paxo snapped. “The rest of us had to earn our place on this trip.” He let his gaze skate over Tess with hardly a flicker. “We can’t just let someone muscle in on—”
“But that is just the point,” Daz cut in. “He looks like muscle and maybe we could do with some of that, hmm? It doesn’t mean he has to be part of anything, does it?”
“Part of what?” I said.
I almost think they’d forgotten I was there. They fell into silence that went on long enough that I was just about to growl in frustration when Jamie piped up.
“You said Sean was your boss,” he said suddenly, as though he’d only just caught up with that part of the conversation. “Does that mean he’s in close protection, too?”
I nodded, glancing round at the others, but only Tess looked surprised at this bit of news. He’d obviously told the rest of them something of the conversation we’d had outside the hospital, when I’d first broken the news to Jamie that Clare wanted me to bodyguard him. Daz’s face took on a shrewd air of calculation.
“There you go,” he said, as if that settled things. “Like I said – this boy could be useful.”
Any further discussion on the subject was cut short by the arrival of Sean himself. He picked up on the atmosphere as soon as he came into the room but didn’t comment on it. On the surface he seemed friendly and relaxed. I was probably the only one who spotted the tell-tale minute shift in stance, the slight narrowing of those coal-black eyes. And then only because I was expecting to see the almost negligible controlled reaction.
Daz sat back in his chair and studied Sean as he approached, head on one side. “So you’re Sean Meyer,” he said, his voice rippling with undercurrents. “We’ve been hearing a lot about you.”
“Really?” Sean said easily. “Well, same applies.”
Daz looked momentarily discomfited, then he smiled slightly. “I understand you’re in the same line of work as Charlie here.”