‘You ready to go?’ said Mickey.
Anni picked up her glass. ‘Just finish this.’
‘If we don’t get out now, we’ll be here all night.’ He looked round the room. Officers and ex-officers were settling in for the duration. Lubricated by alcohol and camaraderie, old war stories were being trotted out again, anecdotes given a polish and put on display once more.
She looked up at him. Smiled.
He loved that smile. Hoped he never tired of seeing it. Or that she never tired of directing it at him.
They had spent the last few days dealing with the paperwork fallout from the case. Wrapping it up as tight as they could for the CPS. Michael Sloane was looking at serious prison time. He had his allies, his supporters, all wealthy, putting money before morality. And he could afford the best legal defence, but even with all that, it was looking like he would go down for a long time. There was too much against him. Mickey and Anni doubted he would have as many allies if that happened.
Mickey had heard that Sloane had contemplated entering a plea of insanity. If he did that, he might end up with no prison time but he would probably be looking at life in a secure hospital. And he would probably lose access to his fortune. Either way, he would die behind bars.
His sister was definitely insane. Her fate would be relatively straightforward.
‘And the half-brother gets the lot,’ Anni had said.
‘Could be,’ Mickey had replied. ‘He’d better get himself some good advisers, though. Otherwise he’ll be picked dry.’
The Golem, as they had found out he was called, had been taken to hospital. A combination of severe wounds and a lethal drug cocktail had left him near death. They sincerely hoped he pulled through. There were a lot of murders to pin on him.
‘Who is he?’ asked Anni.
Mickey had shrugged. ‘Just some East European hired muscle. Nobody special.’
And that had been that. Apart from a call Mickey had received from Jessie James.
‘How are you?’ he had asked.
‘Oh, you know,’ she had replied. ‘Arm’s in a cast, itches like hell. But other than that, not too bad.’
‘Snap,’ Mickey had said. ‘That iron bar to the shoulder left me with my arm strapped up.’
‘Twins,’ she said.
‘How’s everything there?’
‘OK.’ Her voice guarded when she said it. ‘Having a bit of time off. Taking long walks along the beach at Aldeburgh. Doing a lot of thinking.’
‘Yeah,’ said Mickey. ‘Near-death experiences do that to people.’
‘You sound like you know what you’re talking about.’
He gave a small laugh. ‘Dangerous profession, this.’
‘Yeah.’ She told him about Helen Hibbert, the other woman in the container. ‘Put in a claim against the police.Suing for negligence, mental anguish and anything else this ambulance chaser she’s employed can think of.’
Mickey laughed. ‘Good luck to her.’ He paused. Felt there was something she wanted to say but wasn’t able to. ‘So you’re OK.’
‘Yeah. I’ve … got a lot of decisions to make. Trying to stay off the booze.’
‘Well I hope you make the right ones.’
‘Me too. I think I know what I don’t want. It’s just finding out what I do want that’s the hard bit.’
Anni put her glass down, bringing Mickey out of his reverie.
‘You ready?’ he said.
‘Yeah.’
‘Let’s go home, then.’