They ate at the dining room table, Mulligan scooping out rice and tearing into naans, not looking up from his plate.
‘First decent food I’ve had in weeks,’ he said through a mouthful of curry. ‘The stuff you get in prison isn’t fit for pigs.’
‘Anyone would think you were there to be punished,’ Caelan said.
‘Punished?’ Mulligan swallowed. ‘Aye, good one. You’d have us breaking rocks, would you? Hard labour?’
She snapped off a piece of poppadum. ‘It’s none of my business.’
‘Doesn’t stop you getting us locked up, though, does it?’
Caelan said nothing, kept eating. Mulligan shook his head, checked his watch.
‘Right, I’m away for a shower.’ He grinned. ‘You two better get yourselves ready. It’s going to be a late one.’
Caelan looked at him. ‘Where are we going?’
He pushed back his chair, not bothering to clear away his plate or the detritus around it. ‘Club called Stand.’
‘Stand?’ Caelan looked at Ewan, who shook his head. ‘What kind of name’s that?’
‘It’s a new place in Shoreditch. Exclusive. Wouldn’t have expected either of you to have heard of it.’ Mulligan rubbed his eyes. ‘Not that I’m in the mood for clubbing, and my leg still aches like a bastard, but I’ve got to show my face, haven’t I? Let people know I’m back?’
‘That’s the idea,’ Caelan said. ‘You’ve been to this place before? Met people who’ll be of interest to us there?’ She wanted to be sure Mulligan wasn’t just fancying a night out.
He nodded. ‘It’s the kind of venue where you can be introduced to useful people, you get me? Worth your while, I promise.’ A grin. ‘And you can have a dance and get pissed at the same time. Can’t argue with that, can you?’
‘We can’t drink, and neither can you,’ Caelan said. Mulligan scowled at her.
‘All right, Mammy. I can have a couple of beers, they said. Got to make it look realistic, haven’t I? They’ll think I’ve taken holy orders if I’m in there all night drinking lemonade.’
‘If you make it alcohol-free beer, then yeah.’
Mulligan’s frown deepened. ‘Joking, aren’t you?’
‘Tell people you’re still on medication, antibiotics or something. You were shot, remember?’
‘Vaguely.’ He rubbed his thigh, leering at her. ‘Want to see my scar?’
She ignored him. ‘What kind of place is it?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘You said exclusive. Is there a dress code? We don’t want to be stopped at the door while you’re allowed inside.’
Mulligan smirked. ‘Don’t you? Spoilsport.’ He turned away, headed for the hallway. ‘It’s casual.’ Sticking his head back inside the room, he pointed at Ewan. ‘That doesn’t mean patched jeans and a Wales rugby shirt, pal. Smart casual. Make an effort.’
Ewan flushed but said nothing, moving to help Caelan as she began to pile the takeaway cartons together. Mulligan stepped closer and watched, hands on hips.
‘Know your place, don’t you?’ he said.
‘What, the kitchen?’ She spoke mildly, knowing he was trying every trick in the book to wind her up. Mulligan laughed.
‘You reckon I’m that pathetic, that I think women should stay in the kitchen? Be seen but not heard? No. I meant you’re supposed to be working for me, doing as you’re told. Good to see you getting some practice in.’
Caelan rinsed the plastic containers ready for recycling and dumped everything in the bin. ‘Who can we expect to meet at this club?’
‘Few hundred people.’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘I’ve told you, people who might be useful. Wait and see.’
She went to the sink to wash her hands, knowing that pressing him would be pointless. Better to go and see whether he was telling the truth. They had nothing to lose. ‘Forget it.’
Mulligan smiled. ‘You’ve got an hour.’
The doorman watched them approach, his face blank. Mulligan strolled towards him, hands in pockets. Behind a cordon, a line of shivering people huddled, waiting to see if they would be deemed worthy of entry. Caelan could already hear the music.
Mulligan nodded at the doorman. ‘Good to see you, Rico. Busy tonight.’
Rico didn’t smile. ‘Didn’t expect you to show up. Heard you’d been arrested, thought you were inside.’
‘Inside? Nah. Questioned and released.’ Mulligan licked his lips. ‘In the end they realised they had nothing on me.’
Assuming a puzzled expression, Rico rubbed his chin. ‘They questioned you for six weeks? Shit. Is that even legal?’
Mulligan forced a laugh. ‘Aye, good one, pal. I’ve been in hospital – took a bullet.’
‘I heard.’ Rico’s hands went to his hips and he took a step towards Mulligan. ‘Missed your head, though, didn’t they?’
‘Luckily.’
Rico made a sound to indicate he didn’t agree, and Mulligan nodded towards the door of the club. ‘Just let us in, will you? Too cold out here for me.’
Looking down at his own padded black jacket, jeans and heavy boots, Rico shrugged. ‘Feel sorry for you. Join the line.’
Mulligan gaped at him. ‘But… Listen, pal, I’ve been in here every week, almost every night, for months. My bar bill is probably paying your wages.’
‘And? Like I said, if you want to come in, you need to wait over there.’ Rico folded his arms, already looking over Mulligan’s shoulder. Caelan stepped back, touched Mulligan’s arm.
‘Come on, James. Let’s do as the man says.’
The look Mulligan shot her was pure venom. ‘Vic—’
Rico grinned. ‘Why don’t you do as you’re told, James?’ He made the name sound like an insult.
‘Didn’t you say this place is the best night in London? Let’s just wait.’ Caelan made herself sound enthusiastic. Mulligan clenched his jaw but allowed her to lead him to the back of the queue. They watched as a trio of young women approached Rico and were waved straight inside.
‘Should have worn a shorter skirt,’ Mulligan said to Caelan.
‘With your legs?’ She smirked at him, saw the couple in front of them glance at each other, laughing. Mulligan shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, stamping his feet, hunching his shoulders. ‘Fucking Rico. All about the power. He could have let me in, he usually does. Oh fuck.’ He started, half turning away. Caelan tried to see what had spooked him without looking obvious.
A group of people had surrounded Rico, talking, laughing, bumping fists. There were three women and three men, though one hung back, his eyes fixed on the screen of his phone. Caelan stood still, lowering her voice as the rest of the queue shuffled forward.
‘Do you know them?’
‘Shut up.’ Mulligan’s voice was quiet, tight. He glanced at the man with the phone, closing his eyes for a second.
‘Tell me who he is, or I’ll go and ask him myself,’ Caelan told him.
‘Don’t. I owe him money, all right?’
She glanced at the man again. He didn’t look familiar, but there was no reason he should. ‘How much?’
‘Ten.’ Mulligan kept his face turned away.
‘Thousand?’
‘No, fucking magic beans.’
‘They’re going inside,’ said Ewan. Mulligan turned his head, eyes narrowed.
‘Good. Now you know what he looks like, you can help me avoid him.’
‘And you can tell us who he is,’ Caelan said.
‘All right. He’s called Stefan Harris.’
Caelan made a mental note of the name. ‘And why do you owe him ten grand?’
‘We did a deal. I bought some merchandise, paid half up front, sold it on. Let’s say I forgot to pay the rest. Then…’ He spread his hands. ‘Then I got shot and you know the rest.’
‘What did you buy from him?’
He stared at her. ‘I told you. Merchandise.’
‘Drugs.’
‘No comment.’
Meaning yes. ‘Can’t you just give him his money?’
Mulligan bared his teeth. ‘Are you kidding? I don’t have any money. It’s all been confiscated by your bastard colleagues.’
‘Keep your voice down,’ Caelan told him as they moved forward.
‘Stop asking stupid questions then.’
Caelan let the comment go, nodding towards the doors as they reached the head of the queue. ‘You still want to go in?’
‘Yeah, come on. Fuck him.’ Mulligan raised his chin, straightened his jacket. He marched towards Rico, who stepped back, grinning.
‘Have a good night,’ he said as he waved them past. Caelan saw Mulligan’s shoulders tense, but he kept walking. Seeing Stefan Harris, whoever he was, had obviously rattled him. She hid a smile as he looked around him warily. There was no sign of Harris or his friends, and he seemed to relax.
Caelan paid their entry fees, and they headed towards the thumping music. The club was cavernous, the main dance floor already full. Spotlights arced and soared, illuminating bare brickwork, steel walkways and huddles of people. The place was packed. Mulligan headed for the nearest bar, pushing towards the front of the crowd around it. Caelan leant close to Ewan.
‘We need to stay with him,’ she said. ‘I don’t trust him. He’s going to try to lose us, and if he does, he’ll say it was because it’s so busy in here. Don’t let him out of your sight. Go into the toilets after him if you have to.’
Ewan nodded, and they followed Mulligan to the bar. He had a young woman at his side, his arm around her shoulders, and was already drinking from a bottle of lager. He lifted it in a toast as they reached him.
‘Sláinte,’ he said. ‘This is Beth. She’s a friend of mine.’
Beth gave an awkward smile. ‘We’ve only just met.’
‘Don’t be shy. I bought you a drink, didn’t I?’ Mulligan leered at her.
‘He’s got a wife and three kids at home,’ Caelan said.
Shaking her head, Beth disentangled herself, disappearing into the crowd. Mulligan rounded on Caelan.
‘What did you say that for?’
She moved close to him, grabbing his arm and holding it tight, her mouth almost touching his ear. ‘You’re not here to socialise, and I told you not to drink. This isn’t a game.’
Mulligan turned his head, close enough to kiss her. Caelan forced herself to remain where she was, not allowing him to make her feel uncomfortable. She could smell beer on his breath, the curry he’d eaten.
‘And if I stand here whispering to you, pointing people out, that isn’t going to look suspicious?’ he said. ‘I have to behave normally – talk to my friends, have a beer, maybe a dance. Otherwise this isn’t going to work. Someone will notice, and then we’ll all be in trouble.’
She released his arm, seeing the sense in what he said. People had to believe Mulligan was free, and not under suspicion. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘We do it your way, for now.’
He moved away, smiled at her as though they were friends. ‘Are you having a drink?’
‘We’ve discussed this.’
Mulligan’s eyebrows danced as he downed the rest of his beer and smacked his lips. ‘Right. Three alcohol-free lagers coming up.’
He moved back to the bar, waving a twenty-pound note. Ewan stepped closer to Caelan.
‘He’s got a point,’ he said.
‘I know.’
‘This isn’t the kind of place I expected.’
Caelan smiled. ‘Too classy?’
‘Well, yeah.’ He glanced around. ‘I know it’s stupid, but I thought it’d be… well, dodgy. People starting fights, making deals. Gangsters in suits, an atmosphere. Like a film.’ They watched a group of laughing women go by, dressed to impress, followed by three men wearing designer shirts and smart trousers. Everyone was well groomed, happy, looked prosperous.
‘We need to be careful,’ Caelan said. ‘Mulligan could be trying to pull a fast one, pretending that coming here is worth our while when all he wants to do is get shit-faced.’
‘Got it. That bloke we saw as we were coming in, though – Stefan Harris? Mulligan seemed terrified of him.’
‘If I owed someone ten grand, I’d want to avoid them too. Maybe I need to find Harris, see what he’s doing here.’ Caelan knew she would need to speak to Ian Penrith about Harris as well as grilling Mulligan about their business dealings, but now wasn’t the time to start digging.
Ewan frowned. ‘Mulligan said he wants to stay away from him.’
‘I’m not asking him to come with me.’
They saw Mulligan heading their way, three beers held close to his chest as he pushed through the crowd.
‘Here we go. Get those down your neck.’ He thrust the bottles towards them, drank deeply from his own. He pulled a face. ‘Well, it’s cold at least.’
Caelan moved away, trying to find a quieter corner where they could talk. Mulligan followed, pouting like a child, casting a longing glance at the dance floor.
‘Do you know who owns this place?’ she asked. Mulligan shook his head.
‘You’re talking to the wrong person. You saw how Rico treated me – I’m a nobody.’
‘Then why are we here?’
His eyes were searching the crowd. ‘I told you, it’s the place to be.’
‘If you’re a criminal?’
He smiled. ‘If you’re anyone.’
Caelan drank some beer. ‘Tell me about Harris.’
‘Nothing to tell.’ Mulligan wouldn’t look at her.
‘You remember what you agreed? Why you’re not spending tonight—’
He interrupted her. ‘I remember.’
‘All right. Then can you introduce me to him?’
‘Bad idea. He won’t be happy to see me, especially when he hears I can’t pay him. You think he’s going to be in the mood to chat to you?’
‘I want to speak to him.’
A splutter. ‘Then you’re dafter than I thought. He’s got a reputation around women.’
‘The ones he arrived with seemed happy enough.’
‘You think?’ Mulligan curled his lip. ‘See the blonde, her name’s Abbie? He broke her nose last year.’
‘And she’s still with him?’
‘She’s one of many. Believe me, he’s not a man you want to get any closer to than you already have.’
‘I don’t have a choice. You know that.’ Caelan leant closer again. ‘Tell me. Is he someone I should be looking at?’
Mulligan hesitated. ‘Your call.’
‘What does he do?’
‘His family own a pizza shop, a chippy and a taxi firm.’ Mulligan widened his eyes. ‘So, you know, he fries food and drives people around.’
Businesses where lots of cash payments could be expected. Fronts for laundering drug money? Based on what Mulligan had said, it seemed possible. ‘I’ll ask again. What did you buy from Harris?’
Mulligan shifted. ‘White.’ His lips barely moved.
Cocaine. Not a surprise. ‘When?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Is he still selling?’
‘I don’t know. Ask him.’
She smiled at him. ‘I might. What would he do if I told him I’m here with you?’
Mulligan blew out his cheeks. ‘Tonight? Here? Nothing. This isn’t the sort of place you’d start trouble. You come here to be seen, noticed. To announce yourself. Look around you. I could spit in any direction and hit two footballers and a reality TV star.’
She’d have to take his word for it. ‘If you know you’re safe here, why are you still staying out of Harris’s way?’
‘Come on, you know how it works. You saw the two lads with him? Look like pit bulls in polo shirts? Maybe tonight, when I’m tucked up in bed, they’d pay me a visit and remind me of the debt I owe their boss. They might leave it even longer, to really put the willies up me.’ He took a gulp of beer. ‘As it were. But sometime soon, they’d turn up, rip my arms off and shove them up my arse. And that’d be for starters.’
‘Then why did you bring us here, if you knew you might see Harris?’
Mulligan scowled. ‘Because I’m trying to hold up my end of the bargain. I knew if you were seen in this place, where it’s safe, people would recognise you when we go to some of the… livelier places I know.’
‘We could have walked away, come back tomorrow.’ Caelan knew they were here to do a job, but putting Mulligan at risk wasn’t part of the deal. For now, they needed him.
‘He’s going to find out I’m back anyway,’ Mulligan said. ‘At least here, the doormen should keep a lid on things.’
‘Does Harris know where you live?’
Mulligan forced a smile. ‘Not as far as I know. Still alive, aren’t I? But I’m sure he could find out.’
Caelan turned to Ewan, handing him her beer. ‘Cheers. I’m going to have a wander around.’
He nodded, his face professionally blank, though Caelan guessed he wasn’t happy about being left alone with Mulligan.
‘Off to powder your nose?’ Mulligan asked her.
Caelan smiled. ‘Not in the way you usually mean, no.’
She left them, planning to complete a circle of the club, intending to scope out the exits as well as track down Harris and his friends.
Pushing through the crowd, she headed for the toilets, giving the impression she had a reason for leaving Ewan and Mulligan in their corner. Several people caught her eye, but she ignored them, not wanting to encourage anyone to try to talk to her.
The queue for the women’s loos was already out of the door. Caelan hesitated, then kept moving, as though she’d decided she could wait. She was circling around the main dance floor when she spotted Stefan Harris, standing alone as the rest of his group headed off to dance. She studied him, wondering how to make her move. He was a shade under six feet tall, muscular, shaven-headed. No doubt his appearance was intended to make him seem intimidating, and Caelan had to admit, it was effective. Abbie, the one Mulligan had said Harris had attacked, kept throwing him anxious glances from the dance floor, as though by leaving his side she was doing something she’d pay for later. Harris was looking at his phone again, sipping from a bottle of beer. Caelan moved closer, not looking at him, making a show of studying the crowd.
‘Looking for someone?’ He was grinning at her, his eyes travelling over her body. Caelan stopped, smiled back.
‘Yeah, my boyfriend. He must have gone to the bar.’
Harris stepped closer. ‘Why don’t me and you have a chat while you wait for him?’
Caelan pretended to hesitate. ‘Well, I…’
Abbie had stopped dancing and was watching them, frowning.
‘Come on,’ Harris said, beckoning to Caelan. ‘Never seen you in here before.’
‘No, it’s my first time.’
He winked. ‘Bet you say that to all the boys.’
She managed a laugh while promising herself that if Harris touched her, she’d break his arm. ‘I need to get back to my boyfriend.’
‘What’s your name?’ Harris leant closer.
‘Victoria.’ She didn’t miss a beat.
‘I’m Stefan. Good to meet you.’ He held out his hand.
Caelan nodded, keeping her own hands by her sides. ‘Like I said, I’m with someone and he—’
‘Come on, sweetheart, we’re just talking. More fool this fella of yours for leaving you alone.’ Harris looked over Caelan’s shoulder with a sneer, and she knew he was making sure Abbie was watching. ‘How about a dance?’
‘No thanks.’
His expression darkened, and he took another pace towards her. ‘What’s your problem?’
‘I don’t have a problem, I have a partner.’
‘A partner.’ Harris snorted. ‘Right. What does he do?’
‘What?’
His hands were on his hips, chest puffed out. ‘I’m a businessman, made a profit of over a hundred grand last year. This boyfriend of yours can compete with that, can he?’
Caelan gave him a level stare, knowing that if he was into the kind of business she suspected, he’d have made much more than that. ‘No, he can’t,’ she said. ‘But I can.’
He chortled. ‘You? Yeah, course you can, sweetheart.’
‘Straight up. I’ve made some decent money up in Scotland; now I’m down here looking for… opportunities.’
‘And what line of business are you in?’
Caelan smiled. ‘Buying, selling. Importing sometimes, depending on the deal.’
Harris rubbed his chin. ‘Food, furniture, what?’
‘Like I said, it depends on the deal.’ She turned. ‘See you around.’
This time he didn’t move to stop her walking away. Caelan didn’t look back, knowing she’d planted a seed. She’d said nothing to suggest she was into anything dodgy, but Harris could make what he would of what she’d said. Sooner or later he’d probably hear she was linked to James Mulligan, and would draw his own conclusions.
Mulligan was scowling when she found them again. Caelan smiled at Ewan, who rolled his eyes in Mulligan’s direction.
‘Harris seems nice,’ she said.
‘You’re going to get me killed, you know that?’ Mulligan told her.
‘Why? I never mentioned your name.’
‘You didn’t need to. He’ll find out soon enough, and then—’
‘Hello, stranger!’
A young woman bounced up beside them and slung an arm around Mulligan’s neck, beaming at him, at them all. Mulligan’s expression altered immediately, and he grinned as though seeing her was the best thing to happen to him in months.
‘Hello, darling, I wondered if you’d be around.’ He kissed her cheek.
‘Aren’t you inside?’ She laughed at herself. ‘Obviously not.’
‘Nah, they had nothing on me.’ Mulligan’s eyes were on Caelan as he spoke. ‘Had to let me go. No charges.’
‘Good. I was worried about you.’ She pulled a face at him.
Mulligan winked. ‘No need, princess. No need.’
‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?’ She treated them to another smile, blue eyes wide, teeth gleaming. She wore a tight black dress and was holding a garish cocktail.
Mulligan waved a careless hand towards Caelan and Ewan. ‘Victoria and Owen. Vic’s a cousin of mine. And this is,’ he broke into the Dolly Parton song, ‘Jolene, Jolene, Jolene—’
She punched his ribs, none too gently. ‘Shut up, Mulligan.’ She held out a hand to Caelan and said, ‘Jolene Townsend. My mum was a big fan.’ The grin reappeared. ‘Of Dolly, not of you.’
Caelan smiled back. ‘Who isn’t?’
Jolene took Ewan’s hand. ‘Hello, you.’
On cue, Ewan blushed. Mulligan muscled back in, snaking an arm around her waist.
‘Who are you here with, Jo?’ he asked.
She took a gulp from her glass. ‘Reuben, but then he heard his brother was around, so he left.’
Mulligan clicked his tongue. ‘They fallen out again?’
She raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘You know how they are.’ Draining her drink, she raised the empty glass. ‘Good to meet you two. And you,’ she poked Mulligan’s arm as she pulled away from him, ‘stay out of trouble.’
He gave a mock salute as she danced away.
‘Reuben?’ Caelan said.
‘Reuben Nash.’ Mulligan concentrated on his beer.
‘Who is he?’
‘Someone I know.’
Caelan saw his reluctance to talk about Nash. ‘And you’ve done business with him?’
Mulligan glanced around. ‘Can we discuss this later? It’s not really the place.’
‘What about Nash’s brother? The one your friend Jolene mentioned?’
‘Nathan? You don’t need to be worried about him.’
‘I’m not,’ Caelan said. ‘What’s the problem between him and his brother?’
Mulligan looked mutinous. ‘Why do you care?’
‘He’s someone you know. That makes him of potential interest to us.’
‘Reuben Nash owns a club – dump of a place compared to this one. Nathan helps out there. I try to stay out of his way. He’s a psycho.’
Ewan said, ‘You know the bloke you wanted to avoid? Harris? He’s heading this way.’
‘Oh shit.’ Mulligan looked stricken as he set his beer down on the nearest table. ‘Has he seen me?’
‘He hadn’t, but one of his friends is pointing you out,’ Caelan said, scanning the crowd. ‘Or maybe they’re talking about me.’
‘Why would they be? I told you speaking to him was a bad idea. Why didn’t you listen, you stupid—’
Stefan Harris swaggered towards them, shouldering his way past Ewan. ‘Fancy seeing you here,’ he said, looking down at Mulligan, arms folded across his chest.
Mulligan attempted a laugh but sounded more like he was choking. ‘Stefan. This is a surprise,’ he said.
‘I’m sure it is.’ Harris looked over his shoulder at his two huge friends. They grinned back, their expressions making it clear they were eager for the command to rip Mulligan apart.
He turned to Caelan, disgust clear on his face. ‘This is your boyfriend? This lying, thieving piece of Scottish shit? Fuck me, love, you must be desperate.’
Caelan stepped closer to Ewan, snuggling against his side. He slid an arm around her waist as he met Harris’s eyes.
‘She’s with me,’ Ewan said. His tone was perfect for the role he was playing – possessive with a hint of steel, warning Harris off. In the real world, Caelan would never have been in a relationship with someone who thought they owned her, but from the little she’d seen of Harris, she thought Ewan’s caveman act well judged. She kissed his cheek and met Harris’s eyes, a challenge in her gaze. Ignoring her, Harris looked Ewan up and down, nodding as though he had passed some kind of test.
‘You’re a lucky man. Might want to rethink your choice of friends, though,’ he said, sneering in Mulligan’s direction.
‘Vic’s my cousin,’ Mulligan said. He sounded calm, confident, though Caelan could see his face had paled as the strobing lights swept over them.
Harris snorted. ‘Unlucky, sweetheart. Definitely a bad apple on the family tree, this one.’
‘They all are on his side of the family.’ Caelan gave Mulligan her sweetest smile. He didn’t react.
‘Wait a second.’ Harris narrowed his eyes, and Caelan’s stomach lurched. No matter how long you’d been in the job, certain phrases set alarm bells jangling. ‘Wait a second’ was one, ‘Don’t I know you from somewhere?’ another. Harris kept talking. ‘If you’re cousins, how come you,’ he pointed at Caelan, ‘don’t have a Scottish accent, but you,’ he nodded at Mulligan, ‘sound like fucking Braveheart?’
Caelan spoke immediately, not looking at Mulligan or giving him a chance to say a word. She knew who she was supposed to be, and even a thug like Harris might notice if she hesitated. ‘My dad was in the army, and we moved around a lot.’ She smiled at Harris. ‘I wasn’t even born in Scotland.’
Harris sniffed. ‘Lucky escape. Haggis for every meal, and those fucking awful bagpipes.’ He grinned at Mulligan. ‘It’s a shithole, isn’t it, James?’
Mulligan said, ‘Aye,’ through gritted teeth.
Abbie, Harris’s girlfriend, appeared, hovering behind him as though afraid to interrupt. Harris turned his head to snarl at her. ‘What?’
She tried a smile. ‘I’m going to the bar, would you—’
‘Do you really need to fucking ask? You know what I drink.’
He turned back as she scurried away. Caelan told herself to stay quiet as Harris grinned at Ewan.
‘Got to keep them on their toes, haven’t you?’ he said. Behind him, his friends guffawed, nudging each other like schoolkids. Ewan laughed too, nodding, his arm tightening around Caelan’s waist. She played along, making sure her body stayed relaxed as fury coiled in her belly. She felt an irrational burst of anger towards Ewan, wanting to push his arm away and storm off, even though she knew he was playing a part. She watched Abbie hurrying over to the bar, red-faced and humiliated. She wondered where the other women were, the ones Harris had arrived with. Abbie had been dancing with them, but they’d disappeared.
Harris pushed his hands into his trouser pockets, bouncing on the balls of his feet. His eyes roamed the room, and when he looked back at them, he seemed to struggle to focus. Caelan wondered if he was drunk, or if he’d been sampling his own wares.
‘Still, it’s a bonus, her being your cousin,’ he said, jerking his head towards Mulligan.
Mulligan frowned. ‘A bonus?’
‘Hasn’t she told you what an amazing businesswoman she is?’ Harris looked gleeful. ‘Maybe you should ask her to lend you a few quid, James. The way I remember it, you owe me ten grand.’
Mulligan looked stricken. ‘Listen, Stefan—’
Harris stepped forward, his two huge friends behind him. He shoved a finger in Mulligan’s chest and leant closer. ‘Ten grand, plus interest. We’ll call it a round fifteen. You’ve got two days.’ He took hold of the front of the other man’s shirt and twisted it in his fist, forcing Mulligan to stand on his tiptoes. ‘Forty-eight hours, James. Or we come and take it from you ourselves.’
Caelan heard Mulligan swallow from three paces away.
‘And if I don’t have it?’ he said. Harris gave a lazy smile as he released his grip.
‘We’d have to reach a compromise.’ He turned back to Caelan, his eyes exploring, lingering, as intrusive as if he was touching her. She felt Ewan stiffen beside her, but he didn’t speak. ‘Like I said, why don’t you talk to your cousin here? I’m told she knows ways to make a few quid.’
Caelan stared back at him, defiant. She might have a role to play, but her character wouldn’t be cowed so easily, not if she really was working with a man like Mulligan. You’d need guts, arrogance.
‘He’ll have the money,’ she told Harris. She heard Mulligan take a shuddering breath, as though he’d been punched. Harris smiled.
‘Good. I’d hate to have to spoil a pretty face.’ He pointed at her. ‘Let’s see if you’re as good a businesswoman as you claim to be.’
Her turn to smile. ‘I am, I promise you that.’
All at once, Harris’s face was a few inches away. ‘Good. Because if he can’t pay, you’ll have to. You’re family, aren’t you? Blood’s thicker than water, and all that? You told me yourself you’d turned a decent profit. Fifteen grand, sweetheart.’ He held her eyes for a moment longer, then turned and walked away, his friends scrambling to follow.
‘See you in two days,’ Caelan called after them. Harris raised a hand in acknowledgement, not looking back.
Mulligan waited for them to be out of sight before he exploded. ‘Are you fucking mental? “See you in two days”?’
‘What was I supposed to say?’ Caelan moved away from Ewan, giving him a quick smile. He didn’t meet her eyes, his mouth twisting, and she wondered why. Was he embarrassed by the way he’d been forced to behave, by what Harris had said? Or was he worried by how Caelan had responded?
Mulligan was dragging his hands through his hair, panicked. ‘I don’t know. Anything. Anything but what you actually said. I could have talked to him, persuaded him to give us more time—’
‘Us?’ Caelan rounded on him. ‘Us? This is your debt, not ours.’
Mulligan shook his head. ‘Not according to Harris. What’s mine is yours, Cousin Victoria. Harris doesn’t care whose bones he breaks, as long as he gets his money. I hope you’ve got a stash of used notes tucked away somewhere, because fuck knows I haven’t.’ He glared at her. ‘And what did Harris mean when he said you were an amazing businesswoman, that you’ve turned a profit? What bollocks have you been telling him?’
‘Keep your voice down.’ She scanned the room, but no one seemed to be taking any notice of his histrionics.
‘Keep my voice down?’ Mulligan spoke in a squeak, his tone ingratiating. ‘“Of course he’ll have your money. Yes, Mr Harris. No, Mr Harris. Why don’t you bend me over the bar right now, Mr Harris?”’
Caelan’s hand shot out, seizing his arm. The tips of her index and middle fingers found the spot she was looking for as her thumb nestled into place on the other side of Mulligan’s wrist. She increased the pressure and twisted. The movement was discreet, almost imperceptible, but it caused enough pain to make Mulligan’s eyes bulge. Caelan knew she was taking a risk – if anyone noticed, they might wonder what was going on. She was supposed to be Mulligan’s assistant, not his boss, certainly not someone who would manhandle him to make a point.
But he deserved it.
He gasped. ‘What are you doing, you crazy bitch?’
Caelan spoke pleasantly. ‘Shut your mouth, Mulligan. We’re here to have a good time, remember? To meet people?’ She let him go and he stumbled away.
‘Yeah, well strangely enough, I’m not enjoying myself,’ he said.
‘Poor you. Tell me about Reuben Nash.’
‘Listen, why don’t we call it a night?’ Mulligan said. ‘We can go home, make some cocoa, have a chat. I’ll tell you anything you want. Scout’s honour.’
Caelan glanced at Ewan. ‘Had enough?’
He smiled. ‘Before we got here.’
‘You’re a miserable bastard, you know that?’ Mulligan said.
Ewan drained his beer. ‘It’s been said.’
They retrieved their coats, headed outside. The queue waiting to enter the place was even longer than before. Caelan reckoned there must have been about a hundred people in the line. Rico was still there, joined by another man, both of them laughing as they saw Mulligan.
‘What’s wrong, is the music too loud for you?’ Rico called.
Mulligan kept walking, didn’t reply.
As they approached the end of the queue, Caelan saw a man say something to the woman he was with and move towards them. He looked to be in his early twenties, hair expertly styled, clothes clearly expensive. Mulligan saw him and grinned, held out his fist to be bumped.
‘Leyton, pal, how have you been?’
‘Good. I heard you’d been banged up?’
Mulligan scoffed at him. ‘Heard wrong, didn’t you? Hospital, that’s all.’
‘Your hair, man.’ Leyton shook his head, his expression sorrowful. ‘What’ve you done to your hair?’
‘See Leyton?’ Mulligan said to Caelan and Ewan. ‘Best barber in London. Ask anyone.’
Leyton laughed. ‘Not just anyone. Some people are beyond help.’ He cast a critical eye over Ewan, whose hairstyle could be described as casual at best. Ewan stared back, and Caelan was pleased to see he was unembarrassed. He might not be the most experienced, but she was glad he was with her. She knew she could rely on him to back her up whatever the situation, and in their job, that could be the difference between life and death.
‘Like I said, I’ve been in hospital,’ Mulligan was saying. ‘Getting a haircut doesn’t seem so important when you collapse in a pool of blood and wake up in intensive care.’
Caelan wanted to remind him that she’d lost more blood the last time she donated than he’d done when he’d been shot, and that the nearest he’d come to intensive care was being pushed past the entrance on his way to the X-ray department. Leyton looked suitably impressed, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. Caelan could see the woman he’d been standing with frowning at him as the queue began to move. She interrupted Mulligan’s boasting. ‘They’re letting people inside.’
Leyton turned to gawp at her. ‘What?’
Caelan jerked a thumb, and his eyes widened.
‘Shit. See you around, Mulligan.’ He trotted towards his girlfriend, calling over his shoulder: ‘And come into the shop, yeah? We’ll get that barnet sorted.’
They kept walking, Caelan scanning their surroundings, Ewan walking a couple of feet behind them. After a few minutes, Mulligan glanced at Caelan’s face, saw her expression.
‘What?’ he asked.
There was no one nearby, no one listening. ‘Intensive care?’ She nudged him. ‘You’ve a good imagination, I’ll give you that.’
Mulligan laughed. ‘Aye, all right. But I’ve been away six weeks. People are going to ask questions if I tell them the truth – that they took one look at my leg, stuck a plaster on and sent me on my way with a sticker and a lollipop.’
Caelan had to concede it was a fair point. ‘Just don’t…’
‘Don’t what?’
She looked at him. ‘Say too much. Stick to something like the truth. It’s safer. You’ll be safer.’
Mulligan huffed. ‘Safe? Good one. You saw Harris and his mates. You told him we’d have fifteen grand for him within forty-eight hours. If you’re planning on us staying safe, you should have kept your mouth shut.’
Back at the house, Mulligan threw himself onto the nearest sofa and closed his eyes, kicking off his shoes. Ewan went through to the kitchen to make coffee while Caelan paced the room.
Mulligan opened an eye. ‘Can’t you sit down? You’re making me nervous.’
Caelan stopped and stood in front of him, hands on hips. ‘I want to ask you about—’
‘No.’ He said it wearily, his chin on his chest. ‘Not tonight.’
She frowned down at him. ‘You said—’
‘I know what I said. Now I’m saying I’m knackered, and we can play twenty questions tomorrow. All right?’
It wasn’t, but Caelan knew there was no point pushing him. If this was going to work, she had to keep him onside. ‘Fine.’ She sat on the other end of the sofa, drew her feet up underneath her. Mulligan watched, his eyes half closed. Caelan remembered the face of his sister in the photograph Penrith had left with her at Ewan’s house. Those same green eyes.
‘What do you think of the house?’ Mulligan spoke softly, and Caelan almost missed the question.
‘It’s nice,’ she said automatically.
He gave a soft laugh. ‘Nice? Aye, I suppose it is. I own it outright, you know. No mortgage, none of that crap. All mine. Can you say that?’
She looked at him. ‘What?’
‘You’re what, late twenties? Wee bit older? And you’ll be paying off your mortgage until you die, or it’ll seem like it. Or giving rent to some greedy bastard who never fixes anything and could kick you out any time if they felt like it. Won’t you?’
Caelan thought about the flat in Rotherhithe, how she had come to live there. ‘Not exactly.’
‘Yeah?’ Mulligan shifted position, turned to face her. ‘Look at your job.’
‘What about it?’
‘The day we met, you were close to death, and I’m guessing it wasn’t the first time. So I’ll ask you – is it worth it?’
Caelan rubbed her eyes. It had been a long day. ‘It’s what I do.’ She wasn’t going to tell him about the loneliness, the isolation, the soul searching.
A smirk. ‘And you’re a real hero. Let’s say you had died that day. What do you think would have happened?’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Don’t, or won’t?’ He sat up straighter, warming to his theme. ‘I’ll tell you what would have happened – nothing. The world would have kept turning, wouldn’t even have noticed, certainly wouldn’t have given a shit. A quiet funeral, no big do with full honours for you, because let’s be honest, no one knows who you are. You’re faceless.’
Caelan said nothing, her head beginning to ache. He was right, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of telling him so.
‘Do you have a family?’ he asked. ‘Husband?’
She stared at him then, couldn’t help it. Mulligan leered, realisation dawning. ‘Wife?’
‘Shut up.’
He wriggled in his seat. ‘Wait until Jolene hears. She swings every which way, that one. She’ll be round here—’
Caelan narrowed her eyes. ‘Don’t you dare.’
‘Aye, right, she thinks you’re loved up with Action Man in there.’ Mulligan jerked his head towards the kitchen, where Ewan could be heard clattering around. A smile. ‘I’m not much good at this undercover thing, am I?’
‘We’re undercover, not you. You just have to be the same hateful little shit you’ve always been.’
He pulled a face, held a hand over his heart. ‘I’m wounded. That hurts, it really does.’
‘More than your leg did, I’m sure.’ Caelan glanced towards the kitchen.
‘Does he even know how to make coffee?’ Mulligan raised his voice. ‘Oi, we’re gasping out here.’ He met Caelan’s eyes. ‘As I was saying, look around you. When we walked into that club tonight, people knew who I was. You’ll never know what that feels like.’
‘Thankfully.’
‘Come on now. Have you never been tempted?’
‘To do what?’
He grinned. ‘To sample life on the other side. Never taken a bribe, a backhander? Never seized a load of drugs and skimmed some off to see what all the fuss is about?’
Her face was solemn. ‘Never,’ she said truthfully. Mulligan slapped his thighs with both hands.
‘Never, Mother Teresa? Then I feel sorry for you. I might be grabbing the shitty end of the stick right now, but I’ll tell you what, I’ve no regrets. I’ve done everything I ever wanted, enjoyed every minute. You only have one life, sweetheart. Maybe you should try enjoying it. Let yourself go a little, you know?’
‘And the best way to do that is to be like you? Ruining lives so you can live like a king?’ Caelan was aware how prissy she sounded, but she enjoyed winding him up.
‘Ruining lives? Whose lives are we talking about?’ Mulligan spread his hands. ‘Come on, tell me.’
‘Anyone who ever bought drugs from you, for a start.’
He smiled at her. ‘You believe that, do you?’
‘Fairly obvious, I’d have thought.’
‘Shall I tell you something?’ He drew himself up, looking as though he were preparing to make a speech.
‘Do I have a choice?’
‘Well, you could walk out of here now, and I’ll do the same. How about it? Nah? Right. Then you listen. The people who bought from me, they were looking for a bit of happiness.’
‘Happiness. You’re serious? Happiness?’
‘That’s what I said. Anything to take them out of their shitty lives for an hour, half an hour, even a few minutes. Even a second, because you know what? It’s better than reality. Even using a drug you know is killing you is better than looking around and realising what your life is. They couldn’t do it, couldn’t cope with the reality.’ Mulligan licked his lips, kept talking. ‘Some had probably been abused, some might have had mental health issues, learning difficulties, whatever. Never given any advice or help, just been pushed aside and forgotten about. And eventually they were offered a little something to make the misery disappear for a while. Why wouldn’t you take it? In that situation, who could refuse? Could you?’
‘Any day of the week,’ Ewan said as he appeared carrying three mugs. He handed one to Caelan, held one out to Mulligan, who scowled at him as Ewan crossed to the other sofa and sat down.
‘You spit in mine?’ Mulligan demanded.
Ewan grinned. ‘Never know, will you?’
Mulligan grunted, peered into the cup. ‘All I’m saying is, some people will always find ways to destroy themselves. They choose different ways to do it, that’s all. Drugs, drink, too much food, too little food, gambling. Taking risks. It’s how they think, how they’re made. Self-hatred, self-sabotage, call it what you like. It might take years, it might be over in minutes. But they’ll find a way. They punish themselves, do things they know will destroy them in the end. A long, slow suicide, because it’s what they think they deserve. I see it all the time.’ He blew on his coffee, watching Caelan’s face. He nodded at her, then smiled. ‘Anyway. Shall we see what’s on the TV?’
Lucy needed some paracetamol from her cupboard downstairs in the kitchen. It was late, she was tired, and though she didn’t like to admit it, she was scared. Her room had always felt like a sanctuary, until recently at least. Now she felt watched, threatened. She wanted to lock her door and get into bed, but she knew she would have to wait. The headache had been there all day, but now it was worse, pounding and pulsating. She needed painkillers. Swearing quietly, she made her way downstairs.
The house was silent, everyone either out or in their room. She paused as she reached the front door. The kitchen was in darkness, the hallway silent and still.
Then, movement. A man stepped out from behind the kitchen door. He was dressed in black, a cap pulled low over his face. Horrified, Lucy gaped at him, a scream rising in her throat. She swallowed it as he raised a finger to his lips. Staring, she stood frozen. He had something in his hand. Was it a gun? He saw her eyes move to it, and grabbed her arm, his grip surprisingly gentle.
‘It’s a taser,’ he whispered. ‘I won’t use it, not unless I have to. You understand?’
She nodded, knowing she wouldn’t be able to speak if she tried.
‘Let’s go.’ He pulled on her arm. As the front door opened, another man standing outside, she turned her head, looking back at the empty kitchen, the silent house.
No witnesses.