‘How long does he stay like that?’
‘Long as it takes,’ said Lech.
‘I’m not sure,’ the first man said again. ‘I still think we should make a call.’
‘Yeah, that’ll go down well. Because either he’s dead, and you three have been staring at his body for however long it’s been. Or he isn’t, and all’ll happen is you’ve fucked up everyone’s evening.’
‘There’s no call for language.’
There was shuffling, some shared wordless worry.
Peering through the window again, Lech said, ‘Look, if you’re too vanilla, that’s fine. But we’ve come a long way, so if you don’t mind.’
They fell quiet, and clustered round the car. River was counting his heartbeats: eight nine ten. Faster than they ought to be. He wondered if anyone could hear, then thought: yeah, well. Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen, your heart beating faster? In the circumstances?
He heard a zipper being undone.
After another twenty seconds, one of the men said, ‘This is doing nothing for me.’
Lech, sounding gruff, said, ‘There’s activity in the corner over there. Maybe more your thing.’
Glances were shared.
The woman said, ‘I’m a bit of a traditionalist.’
Lech shrugged. ‘Takes all sorts.’
‘So I’ll just …’
She backed away, then turned and walked towards the group in the far corner.
‘Yeah, think I’ll join her,’ the first man said.
The second man moved away moments later, but stopped and looked back. ‘He’s pretty convincing. I’ll give him that.’
Then River and Lech were alone.
‘Nice work,’ River said at last.
‘I’m going to need to disinfect my head.’
‘Was that you, by the way? With the zip?’
‘Worked, didn’t it?’
‘Because I can give you a moment if you—’
‘Fuck off. Got the keys?’
River had the keys.
‘So get in and drive away.’
River got into the dead man’s car while Lech returned to the one they’d arrived in.
Some of those congregated in the far corner watched as they left, but most had other things on their mind.
12
THERE WERE CRIMES, THERE were high crimes, there were treasonous acts, and there was the downright unforgivable.
‘When I find out who stole my lighter,’ Lamb said, ‘there will be consequences.’
The early light of Chelsea had crept along the lane, crawled up the safe house’s walls and drainpipes, and was now checking out its uncurtained rooms, filtering through the takeaway smells and overnight odours. The only company it found was in the front room: a muted gathering. Louisa occupied a corner where she sat cross-legged, a half-arsed yoga position, the notion of which – half-arsed yoga – was projecting crazy images onto her tired brain, while Catherine, next to her, might have been kneeling: her long dress made it hard to tell. Whatever, her expression was calm and unruffled. There are times when recovering addicts achieve levels of serenity denied the rest of us, thought Louisa. The bastards. As for Roderick Ho, he’d been dispatched to find another lighter, or matches, or anything capable of producing flame, which would save Lamb the trouble of having to travel all the way into the kitchen to light a cigarette from the hob, and the rest of them the pain of having to hear about it.
In the circumstances, she thought, Reece Nesmith III was handling himself pretty well. Especially given the greeting Lamb had offered, its tone suggesting that Reece were the principal cause of inconvenience rather than its current object.
‘Well, if it isn’t the incredible shrunken man.’
Reece glared. Back in his own place he’d seemed vulnerable, viewing Louisa and Ho as if they were the vanguard of a hooligan brigade. Dropping Lamb’s name had changed his attitude: if he hadn’t been keen on renewing that acquaintance, he’d evidently wanted to hear what Lamb had to say. Enough, anyway, to boot up, adding an inch and a half, and wrap himself inside a donkey jacket. On the Tube, whose passengers now included Yellow Vests heading home from Oxford Circus, it was as if he’d acquired an extra layer, one which hostile looks and muttered cruelties bounced off, the same way friendly glances did. You’d need it, Louisa thought. You’d need that invisible shield.
‘So I’m here,’ he said to Lamb. ‘What do you want?’
‘Nah, I’ll wait till everyone’s back. Save me the bother of explaining things to two sets of idiots.’
‘So I just hang about until you’re ready to talk?’
Lamb beamed. ‘There. And they say midgets are slow on the uptake.’ He regarded the unlit cigarette in his fist. ‘Where the hell has Double-Ho Nothing got to?’
‘Please don’t let him hear you call him that,’ Catherine said.
‘You think I’ll hurt his feelings?’
‘I think he’ll think you mean it.’
Reece said, ‘It’s like I’ve wandered into a circus.’
‘Glad you feel at home,’ Lamb said. ‘Who’s this?’
The others tensed, but it was a full six seconds before they heard a rapping on the door. Catherine made to get up but Louisa beat her to it. It was Lech Wicinski and Shirley Dander, the latter looking rough and sleep-tousled, as if she’d grabbed some kip in the car, and been sandbagged by a hangover on arrival. Lech, though: it was hard to tell about Lech. It occurred to Louisa that having grown himself a hedge, he was learning how to hide behind it.
‘How’s River?’ she asked as she followed them into the sitting room. And then, a beat behind, ‘And Sid?’
‘Bit bedraggled. All right, though.’ Louisa waited for more, but Lech shrugged. ‘He was fine. I barely met her. Shirley spent some time.’
Shirley said, ‘She didn’t remember much about it. Being shot in the head, I mean. But she’s got a groove there.’ She indicated on her own head where it was. ‘Sort of cool, actually.’
‘And they’re not hurt?’
‘Well, they’d obviously been in a fight. But so were we earlier.’ She nodded at Lech. ‘And we got no sympathy.’
‘You beat up a stranger,’ Louisa said. ‘It’s not really the same thing.’
‘He wasn’t entirely a stranger. Lech had already met him.’
Lamb said, ‘If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s wanton acts of violence. Why aren’t that pair with you?’
‘They’re not ready to come back.’
‘“Not ready”? If I’d known I was arranging a minibreak, I’d have charged a commission. What did you do with the empties?’
This was for Lech, who said, ‘Left them in their car, at Cartwright’s house. I assume it’s secure.’
‘Why not call the Park?’ said Shirley, still looking mutinous, and fidgeting with something. ‘Isn’t cleaning away bodies their job?’
Catherine said, ‘You’re aware we have a civilian in the room?’
‘I wouldn’t worry,’ said Lamb. ‘This is going way over his head.’
‘… Does the term “punching down” mean anything to you?’
‘Be reasonable. If I punched up, I’d miss him by a mile.’
Reece said, ‘Can we move on to fat jokes now?’
Lamb looked hurt. ‘There’s no need to get personal.’
Lech said to Reece, ‘We haven’t been introduced. Lech Wicinski,’ at the same time as Shirley asked him, ‘Are you a new recruit? Because you’d fit right in.’
‘That’s not a real challenge,’ Lamb said. ‘And if you’re finished with the small talk, could we get on point?’ He paused. ‘Small talk? Anyone?’
Catherine shook her head wearily, and tried again. ‘Should we really be discussing this in front of Mr Nesmith?’