Chris and Tony came into the house wearing rubber gloves and old clothes that would later be burned. Gently they cleared Jackie away, wrapping his corpse in a tarpaulin sheet then carefully wiping the hall floor clean afterwards. With that sorted, Chris switched off the porch light and Max doused those in the hall while they cleared up the steps outside. When they were done, Tony stepped out, leaving the door open, looking up and down the street. Then he came back in, nodding.
All clear.
Together Chris and Tony hoisted Jackie outside, and Max closed the door behind them, locked it, and came back across the darkened hall to where Annie stood in the doorway of the study, light spilling out behind her.
‘Been a hell of a fucking day,’ he said.
‘Yeah.’ Annie felt both sick and numb, still unable to take it in. Jackie was dead.
‘Come on. Bedtime,’ he said, and took her arm and led her upstairs to the master suite.
Annie didn’t think it was possible, but she took a couple of painkillers and then she managed to fall asleep after an hour or so of lying awake, staring at the ceiling. Max had gone off to the next room, the one with the connecting door into the master suite. He wouldn’t have any trouble getting to sleep, she knew it. The whole world could be coming off its axis, and Max Carter would never panic.
Her mind kept replaying it: Jackie sitting there dead, propped against her front door like a discarded rag doll. And the blood. The smell.
Jackie had been watching Redmond, and Redmond could kill or give the order for it just for sheer pleasure, she knew that. Her mind kept churning it all over: Dolly dying and now Jackie, and those two grey little souls standing by Dolly’s burial plot, her brother, her sister. And Sandy, all that he had told her. And Dick, in New Zealand. Or – was he?
Ellie, who didn’t want to know her any more . . .
The mob by the lychgate at the funeral, who would have done her serious damage if Max and his boys hadn’t been there . . .
She drifted into a light, restless sleep, and only woke when she knew he was in the room. She sat up, reached for the light. Max was there, in the chair again. Fully dressed. Watching her. She pulled the sheets up to her chin and stared at him.
Max’s eyes were on the sheets. ‘Yeah, let’s talk about that,’ he said. ‘The strapping. The bruises. You said a fall.’
Annie let out a tired sigh and said, ‘All right. I lied.’
‘Oh? Well, there’s a bloody novelty. So what really happened?’
‘Gary had a couple of his boys give me a going-over. All thanks to you.’
‘You what?’
‘You heard. They grabbed me, took me dockside and gave me a kicking.’
‘Gary OK’d this?’
‘He hates me. Always has. It must have made his day, this story that I’d been fooling around with Constantine. Probably thought I’d run away, never to be seen again. But instead I read his tart Caroline the riot act. So he arranged for me to be taught a lesson. I guess he thought you’d be pleased.’
Max’s face was grim. ‘I’m going to have a fucking word with him. And these two goons of his, do you know them? Can you describe them?’
‘No need,’ said Annie.
‘Why’s that?’
‘Because it’s been taken care of.’
‘By who?’
‘By Constantine. Well, by Alberto really. I expect they’re sleeping with the fishes now – ain’t that what they say? Something like that.’
‘So . . . you’re being watched by the Mafia. Watched over.’
‘That’s right.’
‘So he really is your friend.’
‘He really is. In his way.’
‘You don’t sound too sure about that.’
‘It’s complicated,’ she said. ‘But Alberto keeps an eye on me.’
Max stood up, stretched, came over to the bed and sat down on it. ‘So Alberto’s giving the orders now?’
‘I told you. Things have changed. Constantine’s not the man he was.’
‘It all sounds very cosy. You and Constantine, playing cards.’
‘Yeah, it was OK – until he’d start asking after Nico, or thinking I was his sister, or his first wife.’ Annie shook her head. ‘Oh God, what a night it’s been. What a fucking day, come to that. Poor bloody Jackie. What are we going to do?’
Max stared steadily at her face. ‘You know this Dolly thing? You could be fooling yourself with all this bad-past bollocks. It could have been random, it could have been something stupid, something right here and now.’
‘Like what, for instance?’
‘A punter she turned out. A supplier who tried to short-change her. Who knows?’
‘It’s possible,’ said Annie, looking doubtful. ‘I’m still thinking about Dolly’s brother, the one who gave me the name of the train driver. Arthur Biggs. He killed himself.’
‘I heard the police gave you a warning.’
‘Yeah. So?’
‘So perhaps this would be a good time to back off, let them handle it.’
Annie was shaking her head. ‘No. No way. If I did that, what’s it all been for? Jackie’s dead, it’s my fault, and what’s more he died for no reason – because I quit? You’re joking. I started this, and I’m damned well going to finish it.’
‘You’re such an obstinate cow.’
‘Hey – you always knew that.’ Annie felt sick, weary, stressed to hell. ‘Max, I’m dog-tired. Let me sleep.’
Max’s eyes locked with hers. ‘Alone?’
Just say you want to stay with me, she thought. She wanted him so much, but if he still doubted her, if he still thought she was lying over her visits to Constantine, then what was the point?
‘I’m getting used to it,’ she said, and he didn’t argue. He went through the door that led into the adjoining twin suite and closed it behind him, leaving her alone once again.