‘Does anyone else work here, or is it just you and your brother?’
‘Just the two of us. Family business.’ He gave a sad smile. ‘Or it was.’
30
Caelan left the shop after thanking Arif, the food forgotten. She passed Kadim as she hurried up the street, his head down against the rain, or more likely to avoid meeting her eyes. He didn’t acknowledge her and she ignored him too to protect him.
She needed to speak to Penrith, but with seven grand of drug money on her back, she also needed to keep moving. Deciding to take a chance she ducked into a doorway, trying to shelter from the drizzle, and took out her phone. He answered immediately.
‘What now?’
She told him what she’d heard. ‘Nash is now busy raising rents so high the current tenants can’t afford to pay them, and doling out beatings if anyone stands up to him.’
‘Nash is investing in property? Interesting.’
‘And he’s also just handed over seven grand in used notes.’
‘To you?’ Penrith chuckled. ‘You must have your persuasive head on.’
‘It’s a loan, for me to give to Harris. Seems I have two masters now. Well, three.’
Penrith’s tone sharpened. ‘You’re going to play them off against each other? Be careful.’
She ignored him. ‘I don’t see how the club brings in enough money for Nash to be buying up property, not in London, not even with the dealing that goes on in there.’
Penrith was silent. Caelan pictured him frowning, pinching his lower lip. ‘You mean you think he’s our people trafficker?’ he asked.
‘Harris says he doesn’t know how Nash makes his money, and even if he’s increasing the rent on the places he already owns, the sums don’t add up.’
‘And you believe Harris? I thought he was your prime suspect?’
‘He’s an arsehole who treats women like shit, but he doesn’t appear to have the money Nash does.’
‘Even though he allowed Mulligan to have a load of coke on a try now, pay later basis?’
‘Jolene Townsend owes Harris too, but Nash let me borrow seven thousand pounds without thinking twice. He allowed me a good long look inside his safe. I’d guess there was about a quarter of million in there.’
‘Really.’ Penrith sounded unimpressed.
‘And a box that might have contained a gun.’
‘Might have?’
‘I couldn’t really go and examine it. I guessed Nash would be watching me.’
‘Maybe he wanted you to look inside.’
‘You told me our three unidentified victims were shot in the back of the head,’ she said.
‘Correct.’
‘Which sounds like an execution.’
‘Right again. You think Nash pulled the trigger?’
‘I don’t know. It’s just—’
‘Guesswork. We can’t rely on guesswork. You said Leyton Grey has money, Jolene Townsend’s a con artist. Either of them could be organising the trafficking, or it’s possible none of the people Mulligan has pointed you towards are involved. We don’t know. We need something concrete.’
There was another pause.
‘Have you found Tom Haslam?’ Caelan asked as she tried to press further into the doorway. The temperature was falling along with the drizzle, the moon a blur above her.
‘No,’ Penrith said. ‘And before you ask, we still don’t know where Ryan Glennister ran to, or where Lucy Mulligan is either.’ He sounded weary, defeated. It was unlike him. ‘There are no updates on Nathan Nash’s death, or the attack on Mulligan. You need to keep pushing for answers.’
‘I don’t even know what the questions are.’
‘Now who’s talking as though they’re in a soap opera?’ Penrith bit back. ‘What are your plans?’
She rubbed her eyes, exhaustion clawing at them again. ‘I need to give this money to Harris. After that, I’ll be speaking to Nash, on the phone, and then… I’ve no idea. I need some rest. I’m hoping either Achebe and Somerville come up with something, or you decide to bring me in.’
He sniffed. ‘Cancel the operation? Why would I?’
Caelan didn’t answer, watching the drizzle glimmer and dissolve under the street lights. She needed to get out of the rain. She doubted the rucksack was waterproof, and turning up to see Harris with a bag of soggy banknotes wouldn’t be ideal.
‘Where will you take the money?’ Penrith asked.
‘I’ll need to ask Harris, but I’m not going to his house.’ She baulked at the thought. ‘If he wants the cash, he’ll have to meet me somewhere else.’
‘Keep me informed.’ Penrith rang off, leaving Caelan staring at her phone. Should she call Ewan? She didn’t know where he was, though if he had any sense, he would be back at the hotel, catching up on sleep. She would have liked some backup, but dragging him out into a cold, wet night seemed pointless when she had no intention of spending a second longer than she had to with Harris.
She found Harris’s phone number, her stomach clenching. He didn’t answer immediately, but when he did, she could hear talking, laughter.
‘What do you want?’
‘I have some money for you.’
Harris laughed. ‘Yeah? Won on a scratch card, have you?’
‘Where do want me to bring it?’
‘How much have you got?’
‘Seven.’
More laughter. ‘Seven? Why are you bothering?’ There was some muffled rustling and Caelan heard him talking to whoever he was with. ‘My mum will still be at my office. Take the money there. I’m busy tonight.’
He ended the call and Caelan put her phone in her pocket, relieved to have sidestepped seeing him again.
* * *
‘Stop here, please.’ Caelan said to the cab driver. He turned in his seat to stare at her, bemused.
‘You called a taxi to bring you to… more taxis?’
She handed him a twenty-pound note. ‘That’s right. Keep the change.’ She scrambled out and he drove away, still shaking his head.
There was only one Kwik Kabs vehicle parked at the kerb. Caelan hugged the rucksack to her chest. She was soaked, exhausted and pissed off. More than ever, she was sure Mulligan had been spinning them a line, trying to keep himself out of prison.
Harris’s mum looked like she hadn’t moved since Caelan and Ewan had walked out of the building hours before. She had a headset on and was scribbling on a notepad, a cup of coffee by her elbow. She hadn’t heard Caelan come in, and almost leapt off her chair when she tapped her on the shoulder.
Spinning around, she pulled off her headset and threw it onto her desk. ‘Shit. You trying to kill me?’
There was a hint of accent in her voice that Caelan couldn’t place. She held out the bag.
‘Stefan told me to leave this with you.’
The woman took it from her. ‘I know. He called me.’ She peered inside. ‘What’s this? Saved your pocket money?’
Caelan hesitated. She needed a lift back to the hotel, but she wasn’t going to let anyone from Kwik Kabs drive her there. ‘Just give it to Stefan,’ she said.
Mrs Harris dropped the bag at her feet, waving an impatient hand as though shooing Caelan away. She put her headset back on and picked up her pen. As Caelan turned away, she heard the door open.
The woman who marched inside was young, auburn-haired and clearly raging. She marched up to Caelan and stuck a finger in her face.
‘I need to talk to you,’ Lucy Mulligan said.
31
‘You’ve been going around London pretending to be a relative of mine, and I want to know why,’ Lucy continued. Caelan held up her hands, confused, disbelieving, and very aware of Stefan Harris’s mother sitting behind them. Where the hell had Lucy sprung from? How had she known where Caelan was?
She stepped forward, knowing she needed to take control of the situation. Manhandling Lucy out of the office would raise Mrs Harris’s suspicions, but she couldn’t allow the young woman to keep talkin
g. Mrs Harris was still wearing her headset, but she was watching them.
‘Can we…’ Caelan started to say. She reached out a hand, intending to grab Lucy’s arm, knowing she could easily overpower her and force her out of the building, but if she showed how desperate she was to silence her, Mrs Harris would know for certain something was wrong.
‘No, we can’t.’ Lucy glared at her, hands on hips. ‘Even if your name is Victoria Smith, you’re not related to me. I’ve never met you, never heard of you. I spoke to my mum earlier today and she hasn’t either.’
‘You might not remember me, but I know your brother.’ Caelan glanced at Mrs Harris, who had removed her headset again.
Furious, Lucy shook her head. ‘You’re lying. You don’t know either of us, so what’s your game? Who are you?’
Caelan didn’t know what to say; only knew she had to shut Lucy up and get them both out of here any way she could.
‘Can we go somewhere and talk?’ she said.
Lucy was having none of it. ‘My brother’s in intensive care, my mum, who’s ill anyway, is now terrified and confused because I rang her asking about someone who didn’t exist.’ She took her phone out of her bag and held it up. ‘Tell me who you are, or I’m calling the police.’
Mrs Harris got to her feet. ‘No. I’ll phone my son.’
Caelan’s mouth was dry, her brain refusing to work. What could she say? What lies could she concoct? In all her roles, all the hours and weeks she’d spent pretending to be someone she wasn’t, she had never been confronted, exposed as a fraud. She had been withdrawn from operations because suspicions had been raised, told to come in because another officer had dropped her in it, but never had she had her own fake persona thrown back in her face.
‘Well?’ Lucy’s fists clenched, and for a second Caelan thought she was going to hit her. Mrs Harris looked on, a strange expression on her face.
Caelan hesitated, infuriating Lucy further.
‘Fine,’ she spat. ‘Have it your way, but you’ll have to speak to the police.’ She focused on the screen of her phone, but Mrs Harris laid a hand on her arm.
‘My son will come, I’ll call him now. He knows this woman. He’ll make her talk.’
Lucy stopped. ‘Make her talk? What does that mean?’ She moved her arm from the other woman’s touch, staring at her. Her eyes flicked between Caelan and Mrs Harris, as though unsure who she should trust, then she looked around her, as if realising for the first time that she was alone.
‘Persuade her, I meant,’ Mrs Harris said. ‘This is his business. He won’t want the police here.’
‘Why not?’ Lucy demanded. ‘It doesn’t matter. Whoever she is, she’s lied to everyone. I’m sure your son will want to know what’s going on, if he knows her. Thinks he knows her.’
Mrs Harris gave a sly smile. ‘I’m sure he will.’
Caelan knew she had two choices. She could run, or she could stand her ground. Running wasn’t a real option, because she had to protect Lucy. Leaving her here at Harris’s mercy was unthinkable. The questions about where she had been and what she’d been doing could come later. She looked well, unharmed, no different to the photograph Caelan had seen before.
The problem was Mrs Harris.
Her fingers were moving across the screen of her phone, and Caelan knew she had to act. She stepped backwards, away from Lucy, then sprang at the older woman, seizing her forearm with one hand and the phone with the other. Mrs Harris squealed, Lucy gasped, but neither of them tried to prevent what was happening. Using a move similar to the one that had put Mulligan on the floor in the cell at Acton, though with more consideration, Caelan pivoted the woman over her thigh and lowered her gently to the ground. She knelt over her, keeping hold of her wrist so she couldn’t struggle. Mrs Harris wriggled, cursing and flailing, but she couldn’t break free. With her other hand, Caelan removed the phone from her grasp and tucked it into her coat pocket.
Lucy stared down at her. ‘Who the hell are you?’ Her voice was soft now, fearful. ‘Some kind of spy?’
‘No. I told you, I know your brother. You’re not safe here. Please, go and wait by the door.’
Lucy nodded, compliant now, her movements quick and panicked.
Mrs Harris cried, ‘My son will be here soon.’
Lucy froze as Caelan took out the phone again. The screen hadn’t locked yet, and she was able to check the recent calls and texts. ‘No, he won’t. He didn’t answer.’
‘He’ll know something’s wrong. He’ll be here.’
Caelan didn’t believe her, but she knew staying here would be a bad idea. She needed to get Lucy to Penrith, and that meant taking Mrs Harris along for the ride. She looked at Lucy’s fearful face and tightened her grip on Mrs Harris’s arm.
‘There’s a cab outside. Where are the keys?’
Mrs Harris pouted. ‘I’m not telling you anything.’
Caelan knew she could break the woman’s wrist with one twist, but she would never do it. She only hurt people who were intent on hurting her. ‘If you don’t tell me, I’ll walk out of here now and take that bag of money with me. You’ll have to explain to your son that you lost it, and I’m guessing he won’t be happy. I only want to borrow the car. I’ll bring it back, good as new.’
She knew the operation was blown, but with Lucy here, safe and well, it was time to admit defeat. Achebe, Somerville and Brady could pick up the pieces. She was going to walk away once she had delivered Lucy to her boss.
She stared down at Mrs Harris, curled on the floor, her face showing her terror, and hardened her heart. ‘Well?’ she said. ‘Shall I phone Stefan, or do you want to tell him yourself?’
Mrs Harris tried to twist away, but Caelan held on.
‘Bitch,’ Mrs Harris snarled. ‘Stefan will kill you for this. In the desk drawer. Don’t take anything else. He’ll know.’
Caelan looked at Lucy. ‘Would you mind getting them? I’ll explain everything in the car, I promise.’
Mechanically, Lucy nodded, but she didn’t speak. She moved to the desk. Caelan saw her stop for a second as she reached into the drawer, but then she held up the keys. Caelan leant over Mrs Harris.
‘Now, I’m going to let you go. I want you to go back to your desk and start answering calls again as though nothing has happened. Whatever you do, don’t contact Stefan.’
‘Why? What can you do to stop me?’
Caelan smiled. ‘Like I said, I’ll take his money with me. You might sniff at seven grand, but I don’t think your son would. Not when it’s money he’s owed.’
The other woman swallowed, and Caelan felt another sting of guilt. Mrs Harris was afraid of Harris, that much was clear, and Caelan was using that fear to intimidate her. It didn’t sit well.
‘He isn’t my son,’ Mrs Harris mumbled.
Caelan hesitated. ‘What did you say?’
‘He isn’t my son.’
Relaxing her grip, Caelan allowed her to move into a sitting position. Lucy stood with the car keys in her hand, staring down at them.
‘What do you mean?’ Caelan asked, gentle now.
‘I’m not Mrs Harris. I never have been. Stefan’s mother disappeared years ago.’
‘Then who—’
The woman’s laugh was bitter. ‘His father’s whore. He brought me here from Poland twenty-five years ago, along with my sisters and my brother. I was seventeen. We were promised the usual things – work, a house, money.’ The same short laugh. ‘Once we arrived, I never saw my sisters again, though Victor, Stefan’s father, was only too pleased to tell me they had been put to work on their backs. My brother went to a farm of some kind.’
‘You mean you were trafficked?’ Lucy said.
The woman turned on her. ‘You think it wasn’t happening then? Humans have always bought and sold other humans. People are the worst creatures on earth.’
Caelan knew she was telling the truth; there was no question of her making this up. She knew she should run, get herself and Lucy out of ther
e, but there was something in the woman’s voice that made her hesitate. The agony in her eyes, the trembling of her body. This was a story she had longed to tell for years. Caelan hesitated. Harris hadn’t been summoned, she’d checked, and she had a duty to protect this woman too.
‘What’s your real name?’ she asked softly. Another person whose identity had been stripped from them.
The woman released a shuddering breath. ‘Justyna. Victor always called me Tina – more English, you know.’ She gave a shaky smile. ‘That mattered to him.’
‘Why does Stefan call you his mother?’ Caelan was still gently grasping Justyna’s wrist, but now she adjusted her grip so she was holding her hand in support rather than controlling her. Justyna shook her head.
‘It amuses him. He knew I was his father’s prisoner, his slave.’
Lucy stood with her hands by her sides, clearly shaken. ‘His slave?’
‘He was in control of everything, from what I ate to what I wore. Who I spoke to.’ Justyna blinked, her mouth working. ‘Who I had sex with. If I argued, he beat me. He said if I tried to get away he would find me and kill me.’
‘He prostituted you?’ Lucy looked appalled.
Justyna managed a smile. ‘To his friends, only they didn’t have to pay. Then… then to his son.’
Caelan’s grip tightened. ‘Stefan?’
‘On Stefan’s fourteenth birthday, Victor decided it was time he lost his virginity. He gave me to Stefan as a present. Lent me, I should say. Stefan wasn’t allowed to keep me.’ She blinked again. ‘Not until his father died, anyway.’
‘What happened to him?’ Caelan asked.
Justyna turned to look directly into her eyes. ‘Stefan’s father? He fell down the stairs. It was an accident.’
Caelan understood it had been no such thing. ‘I see.’
‘He was drunk. He hit his head, I think broke his neck.’ She gave a careless shrug. ‘Either way, he was gone.’
‘It happens.’
‘And Stefan is easier to control.’ Justyna smiled.
‘You said Victor brought you into the country, you and your sisters and brother. Do you know if… Does Stefan…?’
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