Again Jolene’s eyes were on Caelan, the hint of a sneer in her expression. Caelan wondered why.
‘And what about him?’ Jolene jerked her head towards Ewan.
‘Owen?’ Mulligan said. ‘He’s the muscle, and unlike my Albanians, he can think for himself. Win-win.’
Caelan had to admit, Mulligan sounded convincing. Ewan’s face was set as he drank his beer, his eyes constantly scanning the crowd, playing his part to perfection. Jolene’s gaze flicked from Mulligan to Ewan and back again.
‘So you’re back in the game?’ she said.
Mulligan raised his bottle. ‘Never left it, princess. Let people know, though, won’t you? Don’t want everyone thinking I’ve gone into retirement.’
‘No worries.’ Jolene stood. ‘You got anything to sell?’
Mulligan spread his hands. ‘Not yet, but the night’s young.’
With a glance at Caelan and Ewan, Jolene lowered her voice. ‘Why don’t you speak to Stefan?’
‘Bit of an issue there, unfortunately.’ Mulligan cleared his throat. ‘Fifteen thousand issues, actually.’
‘You owe him money?’ Jolene shook her head. ‘You stupid bastard.’
‘I know, I know.’ Mulligan rubbed his face with both hands. ‘I need a deal, one that’s going to make me enough to pay Harris off and give myself and these two a decent pay packet. Have you heard of anything I might be interested in?’
Jolene was already moving away. ‘No. You know me, I like the quiet life. See you.’
As she disappeared into the shadows, Mulligan scowled. ‘Fuck.’
‘What’s the problem?’ Caelan said. ‘She’ll go and tell everyone she knows that James Mulligan is desperate to make some money.’
‘What, and you think they’ll be queuing up to sell to me?’ Mulligan finished his beer and slammed the bottle onto the table. ‘Not going to happen. I got caught, remember? Anyone I used to trade with won’t want to be associated with me now, not when I’ve had the police at my door.’
‘Then we’re wasting our time. Make up your mind, Mulligan. Either you can get us close to the major players around here or you can’t.’
‘Didn’t know I’d be treated like a fucking leper, did I?’ Mulligan took a couple of deep breaths. ‘You saw how Jolene was just now. She doesn’t want to know me, and neither will anyone else. Good thing you promised to pay Stefan Harris back yourself, because fuck knows how I’d be able to do it.’
‘Jolene didn’t have to come and speak to you if she didn’t want to,’ Ewan said. ‘She was talking to some other bloke at the bar, but when she saw me, she asked if you were here and then followed me over.’
Mulligan frowned. ‘What other bloke?’
Ewan lifted his shoulders. ‘Six foot, dark hair, skinny. Wearing a suit. The bar staff got a shift on when they saw him, so I’m guessing he either manages the place or owns it.’
‘Right the second time.’ Mulligan’s grin looked forced. ‘Reuben Nash. What’s he doing out of his office already?’
‘Maybe he heard you were here,’ Caelan said. ‘Is he a friend of yours?’
Mulligan’s lips tightened. ‘Not exactly.’
She exhaled. ‘How much do you owe him?’
‘Nothing.’
Caelan watched his face. ‘What then? What’s Nash involved in, other than this place?’
‘You’d have to ask him.’
‘No rumours?’
‘He’s a nasty bastard who owns a dodgy nightclub. That’s all I know.’
‘Nasty?’
Mulligan nodded. ‘Though not as nasty as his brother.’ He sat up straight. ‘And right on cue…’
Caelan looked up to see the man Ewan had described striding towards them. He stopped in front of Mulligan, rocking back on his heels.
‘Heard you were back, James. How’s the leg?’
Mulligan stood, held out his hand. Nash glanced at it but kept his own hands by his sides. Mulligan blushed but kept smiling. ‘Good to see you, Reuben.’
‘Who are these two?’ Nash demanded, his eyes skimming Ewan then Caelan. She flashed him a smile.
‘You mean Jolene didn’t tell you?’ she said. Nash showed his teeth, more of a grimace than a smile.
‘She said Mulligan had found some little helpers. I was expecting two brick shithouses, to replace the idiots he had before.’
Caelan felt Mulligan tense beside her, and knew he was worried what her response would be.
‘He decided he wanted people with a brain between them this time,’ she said. ‘People he can trust.’
Nash curled his lip. ‘You can’t be that clever, working with him. He’s a fucking disaster.’
Caelan gave a slow smile, allowing her gaze to linger on Nash’s face. ‘Good job I know exactly what I’m doing then, isn’t it?’
‘She’s my cousin, Victoria. She had a successful operation running up in Edinburgh,’ Mulligan put in. He was frowning. Nash’s pop at his business prowess had clearly hit home.
‘Yeah, I heard.’ Nash rubbed his jaw. ‘Why’s she in London, if she was doing so well up there?’
‘Split up with my ex, met Owen,’ Caelan nodded at Ewan, ‘and decided it was time for a change of scenery.’ Sometimes you had to think quickly and deviate from the cover story, but she would rather not have had to. Now she’d have to get Penrith to create a convincing former partner for Victoria Smith, one who was known for dealing drugs. Something else for him to moan about.
‘Sure you didn’t come to rescue your cousin here?’ Nash said.
‘Work with, not rescue,’ Caelan told him.
Nash said nothing, scrutinising her face, and Caelan didn’t give in to the temptation to elaborate further. Giving details meant she would have more to remember about the person she was supposed to be. Mulligan, shifting in his seat beside her, started to speak, but Nash talked over him.
‘We should have a coffee, Victoria, talk about how we might be able to help each other.’
Ewan leant forward, his expression belligerent. ‘Hang on, mate. She’s with me.’
Caelan reached out, laying a hand on his arm as though to calm him. ‘I think Mr Nash is talking about a business meeting, not a date.’ She met Nash’s eyes. ‘Aren’t you?’
He stepped back, inclining his head in Ewan’s direction as though offering a challenge. ‘Of course.’ Lifting a hand, he walked away. Mulligan watched him go, then turned to Caelan.
‘Reuben Nash with a twinkle in his eye. Never thought I’d see the day.’
Caelan suppressed a shudder. ‘Might be a good idea for me to meet him, though. You sure this is his only business?’
‘Far as I know.’
‘What does he think I’d want to discuss with him then?’
‘He probably wants to give you permission to peddle drugs in here. And he wants to get into your knickers.’
‘Arrogant bastard. Like a woman couldn’t say no him.’ Ewan drained his beer as Mulligan laughed.
‘You do remember she’s not really your girlfriend, don’t you? You get that?’
Ewan wasn’t going to bite. ‘It was the way he asked, like no woman would dream of turning him down, even if they already had a boyfriend.’
‘Like I said, it might be in our interests for me to meet him, see what he wants to talk about,’ Caelan said.
‘I’ve already told you. Drugs.’ Mulligan spread his hands. ‘This place runs on them.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Watch.’
Caelan followed his gaze, saw the other Nash brother, Nathan, go over to a young man who wore a padded jacket and a pair of pristine trainers. They were one of the most expensive designs on the market, as Caelan knew from the shopping trips she had made when preparing for new assignments. Several of the women she had pretended to be would have killed for those shoes. A badge saying Drug Dealer couldn’t have made him more obvious. Nathan grabbed the man’s shoulder, stooping to speak into his ear. With a nod, the dealer turned away, heading for the shadowy booths at the
back of the club.
‘Supply and demand, or whatever they call it.’ Mulligan said. ‘Demand’s high in a place like this, and Reuben Nash only lets certain people trade here, so anyone wanting to buy has to fork out top dollar.’
‘Unless they bring it in with them,’ Caelan pointed out. ‘The security on the door is hardly going to stop them.’
‘You reckon?’ Mulligan shook his head. ‘It’d be like taking your own food into a cafe and then expecting to be allowed to sit at one of their tables while you ate it. Not polite, and not allowed.’
‘How would Reuben Nash know where people bought their drugs? It’s not as though they have a label on them.’
‘He wouldn’t, not for sure, but the threat of Nathan interrogating you about it is enough to put most people off.’
They watched Nathan Nash lean against the wall, arms folded, blank-faced.
‘Look at him, eyeing everyone like Big fucking Brother,’ said Mulligan. ‘Barrel of laughs, isn’t he?’
‘Why do people come here then?’ Caelan asked. ‘The music’s nothing special, they can get their drugs cheaper elsewhere…’
‘And their drinks,’ Ewan put in.
‘…so why bother?’
Mulligan gave a slow smile. ‘Because, like I said, you can meet new contacts here, make a deal. Buy pretty much anything.’
‘Like a gun?’ Caelan said.
Mulligan frowned. ‘Why? Don’t tell me you want one?’
‘No. But you did.’
He smiled, understanding. ‘The one I shot Adam Waits with? Andri got it for me. I never asked where from.’
‘How convenient.’
‘What you don’t know, you can’t get put away for.’ Pushing back his chair, Mulligan got to his feet and bellowed, ‘Leyton!’
A head turned in the crowd, a hand was raised.
‘Leyton Grey – you met him last night?’ Mulligan said as he sat back down. ‘Doesn’t look like he’s coming over. He’s with a different girl tonight – little shit’s like a dog on heat.’
‘What’s his story?’ Caelan asked.
Mulligan pulled a confused face. ‘Story? I told you, he’s a barber. Cuts the hair of footballers, TV stars, you name it.’
‘And yours.’
He pretended to preen. ‘Aye, and mine.’
‘If he’s just a barber, why did you introduce us to him?’
‘I’m not following.’
‘What does he do on the side?’
Mulligan looked shocked. ‘Nothing. Why would he? His shop’s a gold mine. If you remember, he came to speak to me last night. I didn’t even see him. He’s my barber, and a pal. That’s it.’
‘Hmm.’ Caelan wasn’t convinced. She didn’t believe Mulligan would be friends with anyone if there wasn’t something in it for him. ‘I want to talk to Jolene Townsend again, and Nathan Nash.’
‘Not tonight.’
‘Why?’
‘Too obvious. Anyway, talking to Nathan is like trying to have a conversation with a wall. He’s not exactly chatty.’
‘We’ll see. Anyone else?’
Mulligan leant back in his chair. ‘See the laddie over there, grey hair, baggy jeans, looks like someone’s grandad?’ He held up a finger. ‘Is someone’s grandad.’
Caelan looked. ‘Yeah?’
‘Pimp. Runs a load of girls out of a house in Perivale.’
She blinked. ‘What’s his name?’
But Mulligan shook his head. ‘Woman dancing over there with her back to us? Bleached hair, terrible frock? Loan shark. Employs her two sons to beat the shit out of people who don’t pay.’
‘Tell me—’
‘Wait, there’s plenty more. Young fella in the black T-shirt, double sleeve tattoos?’ Mulligan paused. ‘Go on, guess.’
Caelan set her jaw. ‘Unless you’re going to give me some names, I’m not playing.’
‘Go on.’ He bounced in his seat. ‘Pretty-boy looks, Gucci loafers?’
She looked at the man, scrolling on his phone. ‘No idea.’
‘Con artist. He cosies up to lonely middle-aged women – and men – and they buy him anything he wants, take him on holiday, you name it. Then when he’s bled them dry or he’s had enough, he changes his mobile number and fucks off into the sunset.’ Mulligan looked gleeful.
‘You sound as though you approve,’ Caelan said.
‘I admire his…’ He paused, searching for the right word. ‘His guile. His initiative. Anyone who can fool people like that—’
‘Yeah, very impressive.’ Caelan got to her feet.
‘You should go into that line yourself,’ Mulligan told her. ‘Jolene’s an expert—’ He caught himself and closed his mouth. Caelan smiled.
‘Interesting. Maybe I’ll have a chat to her about it. Where did you say Reuben Nash’s office was?’
He stared at her. ‘I didn’t, and I wouldn’t advise you to go looking for it.’
‘He offered me a coffee, didn’t he?’
Ewan was frowning, but again he didn’t protest.
Caelan walked away, conscious of their eyes on her back.
9.37 p.m.
Lucy Mulligan lay in darkness. Her head thumped, her elbow throbbing where she’d smacked it on the door of the van they’d bundled her into. She had no idea where she was, or what would happen next. Rolling onto her side, she reached for one of the bottles of water she’d found in the room and drank. She felt sick, worry and fear combining, meaning her stomach was causing her as much discomfort as her head.
Restless, she put down the bottle and stood, pacing over to the door. It was locked – she’d checked several times. She had no idea who might be out there, who could be waiting for her, and she knew that trying to leave this place was impossible. She was alone here, unable to contact her friends, or her brother.
Turning from the door, she clenched her fists. James. James and his schemes. She had promised herself – and her mother when she’d been well enough to take an interest – that she would never set foot in her brother’s world. Now, though, it seemed she had been dragged into it against her will.
A door slammed, and she heard voices in the room next door. Male voices. She froze, pressing her back against the wall. Who were they?
And more importantly, why were they here?
12
As she had done the previous evening, Caelan made a slow circuit of the nightclub. It wasn’t as busy as Stand had been, and it was easier to move around. There was only one bar, and a dance floor with a metal staircase, blue paint flaking from it, leading to an upper floor half the size of the one beneath. She trotted up the stairs, reasoning that Reuben Nash’s office was most likely to be up there, out of the way. She paused at the top, looking down on the DJ sitting in an enclosed glass booth at one corner of the dance floor. Nathan Nash stood beside it, arms still crossed, looking like he’d rather be somewhere else. Caelan knew the feeling. She turned, narrowly avoiding being barged to the ground by a staggering young woman. She hiccuped an apology as Caelan moved past her.
There were several scruffy red leather sofas placed at intervals along the walls, as well as chairs and tables, mostly occupied. Caelan saw Mulligan’s friend Jolene on a sofa in the corner, her legs draped across the lap of the man she was with. As Caelan passed, Jolene locked eyes with her, a challenge in her gaze. Remembering what Mulligan had almost said about her, Caelan kept walking. Maybe the man was the latest in a long line of victims she had conned, maybe he wasn’t. It was not Caelan’s concern.
There was a door set into the furthest wall, marked Private. Caelan smiled to herself and tried the handle.
Locked.
Instantly she moved away, turning so her back was against the wall, scanning her surroundings to see if anyone had spotted her. No one seemed to have even glanced in her direction, but she moved away, deciding to go back down to Ewan and Mulligan.
Then Nathan Nash appeared at the top of the stairs.
He strode towards her, his face th
underous. She stood her ground, hoping he was heading for someone else.
No such luck. He stood in front of her, hands on hips, preventing her from moving away from the wall. His shoulders and chest were heavily muscled, his hands huge. Caelan had been well trained in the art of defending herself, both fairly and outside the rules, but Nash looked as though he would take some beating. He stared down at her, enjoying the fact that he was so much bigger, no doubt expecting her to be intimidated.
No chance. Caelan knew she couldn’t give an inch.
‘Can I help you?’ she said.
He gave a slow, sardonic, unsettling smile. ‘I was going to ask you the same question.’
‘Well, one of us should answer, otherwise we’ll be here all night.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I own this place, and you’ve just been trying the door of my office. You want to explain why?’
‘I was looking for your brother.’
That surprised him. ‘You know who I am?’
‘I’m here with James Mulligan. He pointed you out.’
Nash chuckled. ‘Bet he did.’
She wasn’t going to ask him what he meant. ‘I thought Reuben owned the place,’ she said. ‘Doesn’t that make this his office?’
‘We’re partners, not that it’s any of your business.’
‘Equal partners?’
His fists clenched. ‘Straight down the middle.’
Raw nerve, Caelan thought. ‘I’ve met your brother already, and he thinks we might be able to help each other.’
‘Yeah?’ He looked unimpressed. ‘How?’
‘You better check with him. He didn’t tell me.’
Nash tipped his head to the side. ‘Who are you?’
‘Like I said, I’m here with James Mulligan. He’s my cousin, and I’m here to help with his business while he recovers from his operation.’
That amused him. ‘Operation? When he got shot in the arse, you mean?’
Caelan put her nose in the air. ‘I think you’ll find it was his thigh.’
A silence. Nash leant closer. ‘Shame the bullet didn’t hit him between the eyes.’
Time To Go Page 12