‘Shouldn’t we be at the hospital? Should have followed the ambulance really. His real cousin would have done.’ Caelan had made the emergency call as Victoria Smith, the panic in her voice genuine. What did the attack on Mulligan mean?
‘No point worrying about that now,’ Penrith said. ‘Victoria’s supposed to be only recently arrived from Scotland anyway, and she and Mulligan have never really been close. Mulligan’s mother is in a secure unit near Edinburgh, so she won’t be popping down to visit, and no one knows who his father is. There’s no other close family apart from his sister, and we’re all aware of the problem there.’
‘I’ll go and see him later,’ Caelan said.
‘Why?’ Penrith looked unimpressed. ‘You don’t need to feel guilty, or concerned, or whatever it is that’s bothering you. Mulligan has made his own choices in life.’
‘Not this time, though. This time it was down to us.’
He glared at her. ‘He knew the risks. He only agreed because he’d be getting something out of it. His conscience was clear despite everything he’d been involved in, and yours should be too.’
Caelan didn’t argue, but also didn’t agree. ‘The officers who took Mulligan back to the house – were they in uniform? Driving a marked car?’
‘I doubt it, since they were Adele Brady’s team. Why do you ask?’ Penrith narrowed his eyes, thinking about it. ‘You’re wondering if we’ve been rumbled? Whether someone was watching, realised Mulligan had been speaking to the police?’
‘He was a witness to what happened at the club last night, and he was one of the people who found the body. It’s understandable the police would need to talk to him,’ Ewan pointed out.
‘Maybe they didn’t want to take the chance. Then again, if they wanted him out of the picture permanently, there are more reliable ways of doing it,’ Caelan said.
‘The hospital said his pockets were empty. No wallet, no phone. Either whoever attacked him wanted it to look like a mugging, or…’ Penrith paused. ‘Or they wanted to see who he’d been speaking to.’
‘Shit.’ Caelan considered what this might mean. ‘Then they’ll have contact numbers for us?’
‘Under the names you’ve been using, yes.’ Penrith drummed his fingers on his desk. ‘It might not be a bad thing. Of course, I wouldn’t have wanted Mulligan to be hurt,’ he bared his teeth, ‘but it might mean your phone number is now in the hands of the person or people we’re trying to catch.’
‘Reassuring.’ Caelan spoke lightly, but she knew he was right. ‘What do you want us to do?’
‘Exactly what you were planning to do before Mulligan was taken out of the equation. Brady’s agreed to you speaking to Reuben Nash, Stefan Harris and the rest.’ Penrith’s mobile began to ring. ‘Stay in touch and try not to get smacked over the head. I can do without the paperwork.’ He answered the call, and Caelan turned to Ewan.
‘Seems we’re dismissed.’
* * *
‘I’m knackered,’ Ewan said as they headed down the steps to the Underground.
‘They’ll have to get us hotel rooms for tonight,’ said Caelan. ‘Mulligan’s house is a crime scene.’
They dodged around a crowd of tourists, all enthusing about the Houses of Parliament. Ewan hesitated, glancing around.
‘Where are we heading? Ealing Broadway?’
‘No, we’re going back to Camden,’ Caelan told him.
‘You want to see Jolene Townsend again?’ Ewan took Caelan’s arm as they made their way through the crowds, and she glanced down at his hand, surprised. She had taken his hand, put her arm through his lots of times, but he had never initiated contact before. Hopefully it was a sign he was becoming more comfortable with them posing as a couple.
‘I want to know what she’s selling to some of the people who come into the shop,’ Caelan told him. ‘I don’t know what the bloke we saw in there earlier was after, but I doubt he wanted to pay his newspaper bill.’
Ewan grinned. ‘Maybe he wanted some pick and mix?’
‘Is that what they’re calling spice and crack these days?’ Caelan gave a mock shake of her head. ‘I can’t keep up.’
They managed to board the next train and squeezed into a corner.
‘Why do you want to see Jolene?’ Ewan asked.
‘She was shifty earlier when I asked her if she knew who Lucy’s housemates were. I want to know why.’
‘Maybe she sold… whatever she’s selling to some of them.’
‘Could be. Also, when we met her in Stand, she told Mulligan she’d been there with Reuben, but he’d gone home,’ Caelan said. ‘I’m hoping she can tell us more about him.’
‘Maybe she can give us his address?’
‘She probably could, but I think I’ll call Reuben and invite myself over to the club instead. I don’t want to go to his house, not yet.’
He glanced down at her. ‘I wouldn’t be going with you?’
She smiled. ‘No, I’m planning on cheating on you. Sorry.’
Ewan laughed. ‘I don’t think even you would go that far for your job.’
Caelan didn’t reply.
* * *
Jolene looked no happier to see Caelan than she had before, though she managed a smile for Ewan as they walked through the door. She was talking to an older man by the counter. He appeared agitated, pointing to the shelves as he spoke. He ignored Caelan and Ewan as he stalked away, heading for the back of the shop, running his hand over his balding head and then smoothing his moustache. Jolene moved to sit at the till, sipping from an energy drink.
‘You’re back,’ she said. ‘Did you find Lucy’s housemates?’
Caelan ignored the question, not speaking until she was standing beside the other woman.
‘Have you heard from Reuben?’ she said. Jolene’s eyes narrowed.
‘What’s it got to do with you?’
‘I wondered how he was doing, that’s all. He must be devastated.’
Jolene curled her lip. ‘You think so, when his brother was killed last night? Amazing really.’
‘So you’ve spoken to him?’ Caelan glanced at Ewan. ‘We swapped numbers last night, and I wondered if I should give him a call.’
Beside her, Ewan folded his arms. Jolene looked at him and laughed. ‘Strictly business, of course,’ she said.
‘What else would it be?’ Ewan gave Caelan a hard stare, and she reached out to touch his arm.
‘Reuben just wants to discuss some opportunities,’ she said.
Jolene flicked her hair. ‘Yeah, opportunities for him to get into your knickers.’
Caelan lifted her chin. ‘Is that what happened to you?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘The other night, at Stand. You said you were there with Reuben.’
A mocking laugh. ‘I was, for a while, then I left with someone else. Sometimes Reuben and I spend time together, sometimes we don’t. Both of us do whatever, and whoever, we like. Doesn’t that happen where you’re from?’
Shooting Ewan a wary glance, Caelan said, ‘Not to me.’
‘Yeah?’ Jolene sniffed. ‘Figures.’
There was a pause, Caelan wondering whether to pretend to take offence, Ewan scowling, and Jolene sipping her drink without a care.
‘Reuben will want something from you,’ Jolene said. Her eyes roamed Caelan’s body. ‘Wonder what that could be.’
‘I’ll rip his fucking head off,’ Ewan snarled.
Jolene scoffed at him. ‘Course you will. Reuben’s got more bouncers than Mulligan has inbred cousins. They’d batter you, chew you up and shit you out, but you keep telling yourself that.’ Her eyes widened as she realised what she’d said. ‘I didn’t mean they… They’d never have hurt Nathan. I was—’
‘Have you heard about James?’ Caelan cut across her bluster.
‘Mulligan?’ Jolene’s eyes strayed towards her phone. ‘I’ve not spoken to him today.’ She looked up, alert now. ‘Where is he?’
‘Intensive
care,’ Caelan said, deliberately blunt. Jolene’s hand went to her chest.
‘What? What do you mean?’
‘Someone laid him out with a baseball bat earlier today.’ The wobble in Caelan’s voice wasn’t entirely faked. ‘He might not survive.’
Jolene snatched up her phone, stabbing at the screen. ‘Why didn’t you say before? Fuck.’
‘Who are you texting?’
A scowl. ‘None of your business. Mulligan has plenty of friends; they’ll all want to know what’s happened.’ She paused, staring at Caelan. ‘Why didn’t you say when you came in? All that crap about me and Reuben. Nice to see you give a shit about your cousin.’ She leant over the counter. ‘Maybe that’s it. Maybe you wanted Mulligan out of the way so you can take over his business yourself.’
Caelan snorted. ‘Yeah, you’re right. You figured it out.’
‘Why don’t we calm down, ladies?’ Ewan said. They both turned to glare at him, and he retreated, hands in the air.
‘Someone did this to my cousin, and I want to find out who. If anyone you know can help me with that, you need to tell me.’ Caelan leant over the counter, grabbing a pen from beside the till and a newspaper from the display stand next to her. She scrawled her mobile number on the paper and threw it at Jolene, who gaped at her. ‘You can tell your friends I’m looking for whoever’s behind this. You see now why I want to speak to Reuben?’
‘But why Mulligan? What’s he got to do with…’ Jolene closed her mouth as Caelan set her hands on the counter and leant forward, getting in the other woman’s face.
‘With?’
‘I mean, he’s been away for six weeks, and he’s… well, he’s a nobody.’
‘As I’m finding out.’ Caelan stepped back, hands on hips. ‘He told me he did decent business down here, but from what I’m seeing, no one takes him seriously.’
Jolene managed a smile. ‘He’s trying to trade in a busy area. It’ll take time.’
‘Which he might not have now,’ Caelan reminded her. ‘Listen, Jolene, if you hear anything… The police are looking into what happened, but you know what those bastards are like. James isn’t going to be a priority.’
Jolene’s face closed. ‘I don’t know anything about it. I didn’t even know he’d been hurt until you told me.’
‘I know, I’m just saying—’
‘I’ve got stock to put out.’ Jolene got up, grabbed her phone and disappeared into the darkened area behind her, leaving the newspaper with Caelan’s phone number on the counter. Caelan picked it up, scribbled Ealing Hospital, intensive care unit beside her phone number and threw it onto the chair Jolene had been sitting in.
‘Let’s go,’ she told Ewan.
He followed her outside. ‘Who do you think she’s going to phone?’
‘No idea. Reuben?’ Caelan took out her own mobile. ‘Let’s see.’ She found his number, made the call and listened. ‘Voicemail.’
‘Could be a coincidence.’
‘Or she and Reuben could be closer than she’d have us believe.’
20
Reuben called back as they got off the tube at Oxford Circus, but Caelan ignored him. Ewan looked up at the street names as they walked.
‘How much do you think renting a shop around here would set you back?
‘No idea. Fifty or sixty grand a year? Maybe more.’
He whistled. ‘And people still make a living? We’re in the wrong business.’
She smiled. ‘Always.’
‘Reckon that’s the place.’ Ewan nodded towards a small shopfront. In the window stood a single barber’s chair, and Ewan grabbed Caelan’s wrist as he saw the man sitting in it, his face lathered, ready for a shave.
‘Bloody hell, he plays for Spurs,’ he hissed.
‘How can you tell under all the shaving cream?’ Caelan looked up at the black-painted shop frontage. ‘Place doesn’t even have a sign.’
Ewan ran a hand over the top of his head. ‘I don’t need a haircut.’
‘Don’t have one then,’ Caelan said. ‘Have a shave, or a facial.’
‘They do facials?’ Ewan didn’t sound keen.
‘We can ask.’ Caelan pushed open the door, beaming at Leyton Grey, who stood beside the footballer in the chair, cut-throat razor ready to go. ‘Hi, Leyton,’ she said. He stared at her, confused. ‘We met at Stand,’ she told him. ‘Vic and Owen? We were with my cousin, James Mulligan?’
His face cleared. ‘Oh, yeah. Have a seat.’ He grinned at Ewan. ‘We’ll see what we can do.’
Twenty minutes later, Grey escorted the footballer to the door. As his client walked away, he turned back to Caelan and Ewan. ‘Comes in here twice a week, regular as you like. He’s a fussy bastard, but at eighty quid a throw, I’m not complaining.’
‘Eighty quid for a shave?’ Ewan sounded panicked, and Grey grinned at him.
‘Don’t worry, mate, I charge my customers on a sliding scale. Your man who’s just left is on over a hundred grand a week according to the papers, so I reckon a few quid for a shave and a trim isn’t going to bankrupt him. You, though – let’s call it thirty and a couple of beers next time I see you.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Mates’ rates.’ Grey waved him into the chair. ‘Any time.’
Ewan thanked him, sat down. ‘Just do whatever you think,’ he said.
‘Quick tidy-up. No worries.’ Grey got to work, and Caelan met Ewan’s eyes in the mirror. They were here on a fishing trip, wanting to see how many of Mulligan’s mates knew about the attack on him, and who had told them. Mulligan had said Leyton Grey was nothing more than a barber, but she had been keen to see his shop for herself.
‘Do you employ anyone else here?’ she asked.
‘Nah, it’s just me. I work ten, twelve hours a day sometimes, but it doesn’t bother me. I enjoy it. Come in on a Saturday, the place is rammed. I do okay.’
‘James said you’ve a gold mine on your hands.’
Grey laughed. ‘Yeah, he would, but it’s not from any money he pays me. I give him a free cut because he’s put so much business my way, told all his mates and contacts about me.’
‘You must be doing well to afford a shop around here.’
Grey glanced at her, looking sheepish. ‘Truth told, I only pay half the rent I should. My dad’s mate owns the building – it’s been in his family for years. The shop had been empty for a while, and he said he’d rather see it being used even if it meant cutting the rent. So here I am. Had a little place in Camden before this.’
‘Camden? We’ve just been there.’
‘Yeah?’ Grey seemed to be only half listening, frowning at Ewan’s hair. ‘Few white ones coming through here, mate. You’ll have to dye it soon.’ He winked at Caelan in the mirror.
‘We went to see Jolene Townsend,’ Caelan told him.
‘She still working in that shop? Used to go in there for my fags every morning.’ He stepped back, tipped his head to the side, assessing his work. ‘Looking better already.’
‘You know her, then?’
‘Everyone knows Jolene.’ Grey’s tone was matter-of-fact, nothing lascivious about it.
‘James introduced us to her. We wanted to talk to his friends, see if they’d heard. See if they can help us.’
Grey turned, bemused. ‘What do you mean, see if they’ve heard?’
‘Someone attacked James with a baseball bat today.’
He stared. ‘James? You mean Mulligan?’
‘He’s in intensive care.’ She looked at the ground, then back at Grey. ‘You hadn’t heard.’
Wordlessly Grey shook his head. His mouth worked and he cleared his throat. ‘You said you’re his cousin? Have they let you see him?’
‘We found him, but we haven’t been to the hospital yet. I’m not his next of kin, so…’
He nodded his understanding. ‘They wouldn’t let you in anyway. Shit, it must be serious.’
‘You can see why we’re asking questions. I want to know who did this.�
��
‘Aren’t the police—’
‘I don’t trust them. What do you know about James?’
His eyes slid away. ‘Like I said, we’re mates.’
‘You know what he does for a living?’
‘I’ve an idea.’
‘Well then. You’ll understand why I don’t think the police will be prioritising this. James probably wouldn’t want them poking around too much anyway.’
Grey went back to Ewan’s hair. ‘I don’t think I can help you. I’m a barber, not a… I mean, I’ve never done business with Mulligan.’
‘But you cut the hair of some of the people who do?’
He wouldn’t look at her. ‘I don’t want to get involved.’
Caelan folded her arms. ‘Do you know Nathan Nash?’
‘I know he’s dead.’
‘Reuben Nash? Stefan Harris?’
Grey’s shoulders were up around his ears, as though he was expecting a blow to the head himself. ‘I’ve told you, I don’t want to be a part of this. I’ve a business to think about.’
‘I’ll take that as yes.’
‘Take it as whatever you want.’ He stepped away from Ewan. ‘You’re done.’
Ewan stood. ‘Cheers.’ He brought out his wallet, but Grey waved him away.
‘On the house. Just leave me alone. Please.’
Caelan tried to meet his eyes, but Grey had turned his back again. He picked up a broom and began sweeping up Ewan’s hair. There was a desk at the other end of the shop, and Caelan went over and picked up an appointment card and a pen.
‘I’ll leave my number.’
‘Don’t bother,’ Grey said without lifting his head. Caelan wrote it anyway and left it beside the till with two twenty-pound notes.
* * *
As they headed back to the Underground station, Ewan said, ‘Why are you giving everyone your phone number? If you didn’t and then one of them rang you, we’d know they could only have got the number from Mulligan’s phone, the one that whoever attacked him took.’
Caelan tucked her hands into her coat pockets as a cold breeze whipped around them. ‘Because it would look strange if I didn’t. I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t have. Sometimes it’s impossible to know what’s the best option.’ She remembered Reuben Nash’s call and pulled out her phone. He answered on the second ring.
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