First thing I noticed: the pain was sharp. At the back of my skull. Insistent. Someone gently scraping a razor across bone. My hair was thickly matted with blood. I could feel its slowly spreading warmth.
I opened my eyes. Saw Susan, looking down at me. ‘It’s a habit,’ she said. ‘People punching hell out of you.’
‘Love you, too.’
She reacted like she’d caught her finger in a mousetrap. But her recovery was fast as she tried for a grin: ‘Oh, aye, you’ve got some of the old brain-shake, then?’
I tried to sit up. There was a jacket beneath my head to make up for the lack of pillow, but I could feel the gravel beneath me. I was nauseous, wondered if I should even be trying to move.
Concussion.
A condition I’d become familiar with over the last few years. We were getting to be friends.
‘Griggs?’
‘Aye,’ said Sooty. Standing close, but facing away, arms folded. Gaze on the distance, as though he could see something that wasn’t quite in focus. Whatever it was, he didn’t look too happy about it. ‘Prick took off.’ He turned to look at me. ‘None of the told-you-so’s, right?’
‘Aye,’ I said. ‘Right.’
He didn’t crack a smile. Just shook his head. If you couldn’t trust a rogue SCDEA agent, who could you trust these days?
I sat up. Slowly. Tried not to touch the back of my head. Susan, crouched beside me, placed her hands on my shoulders as though afraid I’d just go right back over.
McNee might wobble, but he doesn’t fall down. Not when it matters.
When I went down, Griggs had searched my pockets. I remembered that much before I shut down completely. What had he been looking for?
I patted down my jacket. Trying to think what the hell it was that he would want from me.
‘Fucksakes!’
‘Steed?’
‘You know you said you always chose the wrong fucking men? Aye, well, this one was a right catch and no fucking mistake.’
She didn’t say anything.
I felt heat rise to my face. Burning.
‘I’m sorry. I …’ Was there any point saying anything? The damage was done. ‘Look, Griggs knows he’s made a mistake. The trouble is, I think he believes there’s no way out, now. He’s started, so he’ll finish. And I’m worried what that will mean for him.’
Susan said, ‘Burns?’
I nodded. ‘I need your phone. Please. I have to try and make this right.’
I didn’t want this night to end in blood. There had been enough spilled over the years. Enough people had died. Just once, I wanted to try and make things better.
Susan passed me her phone. I dialled through to Burns’s home number. No reply. 1571 cutting in after maybe twenty seconds.
No one at home?
Or already too late?
I said, ‘Give me the keys,’ talking to Sooty.
‘No way. You’re bleeding. That was a bastard of a knock to the head. We’re waiting for the amb—’
‘—Give me the fucking keys.’
Sooty looked ready to lamp me. But instead he threw his car keys towards at me. They arced high in the air. I almost let them drop. ‘Take them,’ he said, ‘We’re all buggered anyway. Right?’