‘Corn, me old mate, how’s it going? What the fuck’s that rustling noise?’
‘A little interrogation technique of my own design. The rat in the corner is enjoying a piece of raw meat. His colleagues are inside the crate gnawing their way through.’
‘How long will it take them?’
‘Usually several days.’
‘They’ll be famished by then.’
‘They are hoping you fail to answer my questions truthfully.’
‘How many are there?’
‘Three dozen.’
‘Questions?’
‘Rats.’
‘What if you’re called out?’
‘I have furnished a replacement timber, hammer and nails to allow you to shore off the crate temporarily thus prolonging their escape. You could of course always hit them with the hammer.’
‘What if you’re held up?’
‘I would inform those holding me up where to find you. One week later.’
‘They’ll be finding us both, Corn. By tomorrow, I’d say.’ I had his attention. ‘C’mere a minute, Corn.’ I didn’t want Lucille hearing what I had to say. ‘Why don’t we go down to your art gallery and have a little talk?’
‘I think not.’
‘Corn, I’m not likely to be making a run for it with those dogs on the end of my bollocks. Besides, you know what I’ve been up to. Even if I got out of here, I couldn’t turn you in, any more than you could me. So what’s there to be lost? More importantly, what’s there to be gained? By you.’
Greed, y’see. He was always a greedy bastard, even when we were emailing each other he was always after as good a deal as he could get.
‘You have another of your get-rich plans in mind?’
‘When they were dishing out plans, they must’ve mistaken me for an architect – and given me a whole drawerful.’
He thought about it long enough to see that he’d nothing to lose, then opened the door.
‘Good man. C’mon.’ And down we went.
‘I’ve admired your paintings. That Duet has something going for it.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I’m glad you don’t like painting men. I wouldn’t fancy being in one of them. I know all about the flowers. I read about it in your journal.’ Y’shoulda seen the one called January. The girl in it had a face like a shovel – a crooked chin and a twisted nose. Meet her on a dark night and you’d shit yourself.
‘What do you call them? The “Calendar Collection”?’
‘Actually, no, though that is a possibility.’
‘It lacks something.’
‘Oh?’
‘Enigma.’
‘Explain.’
Packing crates were in the centre of the room.
‘You’re sending them away?’
‘To international galleries. Artists do like to display their work.’
‘Most of them don’t exhibit anonymously. You should give them more to ponder over. As it is, they’ll wonder why you didn’t complete the collection by including a December.’
‘An omission to be rectified this evening.’
‘Bad move. Let Duet take its place. Let them wonder why you did that. Complete it and Duet will look out of place. It won’t fit in. Send it as it is, and they’ll have more to talk about.’
It seemed to amuse him. ‘You know, Red, you might just have hit on something there.’
‘So you can forget about December.’
‘What exactly are you leading up to, Red?’
‘Business. Lucille thinks Anne Donavan’s her old dear.’
‘She is not.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I questioned her most persuasively. You did insist that I visit her. She endured my interrogation unnecessarily, when a simple confirmation of that which Lucille’s birth certificate had already proven to me would have granted her an easier passing. Lucille may think she is her mother. I myself am convinced that she is not.’
‘Yeah, well, it’s what Lucille thinks that counts.’
‘A plot which you constructed?’
‘Presentation, Corn. If there’s one thing I learnt from those who put us in that well, it was that. I’ve seen to it the law’ll see Lucille as being behind this. When she’s convicted, I claim what’s mine and Sean rests easy. That’s all I want. I’ve nothing personal against Lucille. Only …’
‘Yes?’
‘They’ll be grabbing you as well.’
‘I see.’
‘Unless we do a deal.’
It was my only way out of there. ‘The computer I used to email you shows you at the Top Towers Hotel. I get out of here, the law don’t find it with your name on it. You keep me here, they do. That’s the deal.’ I was tempting him. He knew as well as I did that if he let me go we could never squeal on each other without landing both of us in it. I’d have nothing to fear from him, and, more importantly, from his end, he’d have nothing to fear from me. ‘And I’ll throw in another dozen of Gemma’s punters for you to practise your waste-bin routine on.’
‘A dozen?’
Think how many scalpels that’d buy. ‘But there’s one proviso – Lucille has to be released.’
‘Impossible.’
‘Corn, all she can give the law is a description of a tall blonde guy with a cellar that could be anywhere in the thirty-two counties. OK, there’s a risk. But there’s always a risk. Steer clear of women’s prisons and she won’t be able to ID you from behind a forty-foot wall and tip them off. Hang on to me and that risk becomes a sure thing: you’ll be spending the rest of your natural in a room not much different from the one you had me in. Decision time, Corn.’
I had him. In his position, I’d’ve run with it. And so would he. What did he have to lose for fuck’s sake?
And the beauty of it was: Greg Swags’d be released. Corn leaving his mark on Anne’d see to that. Winters’d still try to hold Greg of course. No doubt he’d come up with some crap like Corn and Greg were partners. But partners wouldn’t fight it out in a hotel room, leaving one unconscious to identify the other. It’d never stand up. He’d let him go all right.
‘The longer you wait, Corn, the more chance they have of finding that laptop. And only I know where it is.’
‘You are very persuasive, Red.’
‘I just see the angles, Corn.’
‘Tell me, did you manage to fulfil your ambition and become a millionaire?’
‘I’m a success story, Corn. And chew on this: do you think I’d be handing you a deal if I thought it wasn’t straight up? Because if it isn’t, I won’t be at liberty long enough to bring Sean home. And that’s all I care about. No way would I jeopardise that. Done?’
‘Done. But tell me, how have you arranged for Lucille to be apprehended?’
‘Give her a whiff of that spray of yours and you’ll find out. C’mon.’