Reuben called back as they got off the tube at Oxford Circus, but Caelan ignored him. Ewan looked up at the street names as they walked.
‘How much do you think renting a shop around here would set you back?
‘No idea. Fifty or sixty grand a year? Maybe more.’
He whistled. ‘And people still make a living? We’re in the wrong business.’
She smiled. ‘Always.’
‘Reckon that’s the place.’ Ewan nodded towards a small shopfront. In the window stood a single barber’s chair, and Ewan grabbed Caelan’s wrist as he saw the man sitting in it, his face lathered, ready for a shave.
‘Bloody hell, he plays for Spurs,’ he hissed.
‘How can you tell under all the shaving cream?’ Caelan looked up at the black-painted shop frontage. ‘Place doesn’t even have a sign.’
Ewan ran a hand over the top of his head. ‘I don’t need a haircut.’
‘Don’t have one then,’ Caelan said. ‘Have a shave, or a facial.’
‘They do facials?’ Ewan didn’t sound keen.
‘We can ask.’ Caelan pushed open the door, beaming at Leyton Grey, who stood beside the footballer in the chair, cut-throat razor ready to go. ‘Hi, Leyton,’ she said. He stared at her, confused. ‘We met at Stand,’ she told him. ‘Vic and Owen? We were with my cousin, James Mulligan?’
His face cleared. ‘Oh, yeah. Have a seat.’ He grinned at Ewan. ‘We’ll see what we can do.’
Twenty minutes later, Grey escorted the footballer to the door. As his client walked away, he turned back to Caelan and Ewan. ‘Comes in here twice a week, regular as you like. He’s a fussy bastard, but at eighty quid a throw, I’m not complaining.’
‘Eighty quid for a shave?’ Ewan sounded panicked, and Grey grinned at him.
‘Don’t worry, mate, I charge my customers on a sliding scale. Your man who’s just left is on over a hundred grand a week according to the papers, so I reckon a few quid for a shave and a trim isn’t going to bankrupt him. You, though – let’s call it thirty and a couple of beers next time I see you.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Mates’ rates.’ Grey waved him into the chair. ‘Any time.’
Ewan thanked him, sat down. ‘Just do whatever you think,’ he said.
‘Quick tidy-up. No worries.’ Grey got to work, and Caelan met Ewan’s eyes in the mirror. They were here on a fishing trip, wanting to see how many of Mulligan’s mates knew about the attack on him, and who had told them. Mulligan had said Leyton Grey was nothing more than a barber, but she had been keen to see his shop for herself.
‘Do you employ anyone else here?’ she asked.
‘Nah, it’s just me. I work ten, twelve hours a day sometimes, but it doesn’t bother me. I enjoy it. Come in on a Saturday, the place is rammed. I do okay.’
‘James said you’ve a gold mine on your hands.’
Grey laughed. ‘Yeah, he would, but it’s not from any money he pays me. I give him a free cut because he’s put so much business my way, told all his mates and contacts about me.’
‘You must be doing well to afford a shop around here.’
Grey glanced at her, looking sheepish. ‘Truth told, I only pay half the rent I should. My dad’s mate owns the building – it’s been in his family for years. The shop had been empty for a while, and he said he’d rather see it being used even if it meant cutting the rent. So here I am. Had a little place in Camden before this.’
‘Camden? We’ve just been there.’
‘Yeah?’ Grey seemed to be only half listening, frowning at Ewan’s hair. ‘Few white ones coming through here, mate. You’ll have to dye it soon.’ He winked at Caelan in the mirror.
‘We went to see Jolene Townsend,’ Caelan told him.
‘She still working in that shop? Used to go in there for my fags every morning.’ He stepped back, tipped his head to the side, assessing his work. ‘Looking better already.’
‘You know her, then?’
‘Everyone knows Jolene.’ Grey’s tone was matter-of-fact, nothing lascivious about it.
‘James introduced us to her. We wanted to talk to his friends, see if they’d heard. See if they can help us.’
Grey turned, bemused. ‘What do you mean, see if they’ve heard?’
‘Someone attacked James with a baseball bat today.’
He stared. ‘James? You mean Mulligan?’
‘He’s in intensive care.’ She looked at the ground, then back at Grey. ‘You hadn’t heard.’
Wordlessly Grey shook his head. His mouth worked and he cleared his throat. ‘You said you’re his cousin? Have they let you see him?’
‘We found him, but we haven’t been to the hospital yet. I’m not his next of kin, so…’
He nodded his understanding. ‘They wouldn’t let you in anyway. Shit, it must be serious.’
‘You can see why we’re asking questions. I want to know who did this.’
‘Aren’t the police—’
‘I don’t trust them. What do you know about James?’
His eyes slid away. ‘Like I said, we’re mates.’
‘You know what he does for a living?’
‘I’ve an idea.’
‘Well then. You’ll understand why I don’t think the police will be prioritising this. James probably wouldn’t want them poking around too much anyway.’
Grey went back to Ewan’s hair. ‘I don’t think I can help you. I’m a barber, not a… I mean, I’ve never done business with Mulligan.’
‘But you cut the hair of some of the people who do?’
He wouldn’t look at her. ‘I don’t want to get involved.’
Caelan folded her arms. ‘Do you know Nathan Nash?’
‘I know he’s dead.’
‘Reuben Nash? Stefan Harris?’
Grey’s shoulders were up around his ears, as though he was expecting a blow to the head himself. ‘I’ve told you, I don’t want to be a part of this. I’ve a business to think about.’
‘I’ll take that as yes.’
‘Take it as whatever you want.’ He stepped away from Ewan. ‘You’re done.’
Ewan stood. ‘Cheers.’ He brought out his wallet, but Grey waved him away.
‘On the house. Just leave me alone. Please.’
Caelan tried to meet his eyes, but Grey had turned his back again. He picked up a broom and began sweeping up Ewan’s hair. There was a desk at the other end of the shop, and Caelan went over and picked up an appointment card and a pen.
‘I’ll leave my number.’
‘Don’t bother,’ Grey said without lifting his head. Caelan wrote it anyway and left it beside the till with two twenty-pound notes.
As they headed back to the Underground station, Ewan said, ‘Why are you giving everyone your phone number? If you didn’t and then one of them rang you, we’d know they could only have got the number from Mulligan’s phone, the one that whoever attacked him took.’
Caelan tucked her hands into her coat pockets as a cold breeze whipped around them. ‘Because it would look strange if I didn’t. I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t have. Sometimes it’s impossible to know what’s the best option.’ She remembered Reuben Nash’s call and pulled out her phone. He answered on the second ring.
‘Victoria. Good to speak to you.’ He sounded hoarse, his voice catching in his throat.
‘How are you?’ Caelan asked. The man’s brother had just been murdered, after all.
He sniffed. ‘Trying to carry on as normal. Nathan wouldn’t want me sitting around feeling sorry for myself.’
Caelan grimaced at this unconvincing show of brotherly love. ‘Then maybe we could meet, have that chat?’
‘I heard about Mulligan,’ Reuben said. ‘You’re not wasting any time.’
‘Meaning?’ Caelan wanted to ask how he knew. She guessed Jolene had told him, probably in the text she had sent when Caelan and Ewan were still in the shop.
‘Come on. You came down here to help Mulligan out, but I’m guessing you’re hoping to step into his shoes permanently. Here’s your chance.’
Caelan lowered her voice, hoping she sounded flirtatious. ‘You’re suggesting I’d exploit my cousin’s misfortune for my own ends? That would be despicable.’
Ewan shook his head, but Reuben chuckled.
‘It would indeed.’
‘I’m actually trying to find out who attacked him.’
‘So you can shake their hand?’
She snorted. ‘Funny man. No, because I want answers.’
‘Listen, why don’t you meet me at the club later?’ Nash said. ‘I’d invite you to my house, but I don’t usually bring business home.’
She sighed. ‘I’d like to, but…’
‘But?’
‘It depends what Stefan Harris does to me. James owes him fifteen grand, and Stefan’s decided I’ll have to pay up instead.’
‘I heard. Last night, just before my brother went for Harris with his knife.’ His voice was little more than a whisper. ‘I’ll come with you to see Stefan. I need to have a chat with him anyway.’
Caelan kicked herself mentally. ‘You sure that’s wise?’
Nash’s voice hardened. ‘I think it’s my decision, don’t you?’
‘No, not if you’re planning on coming along with me. I don’t want him to think I can’t handle things alone.’ She waited, guessing she might have just blown her chance to get closer to Nash.
After a pause, he laughed. ‘You know, you remind me of my mother.’
‘Really?’ Caelan wasn’t sure how to respond.
‘Yeah. She wouldn’t take any shit from me either. I’m glad she’s not here to see one of her sons buried.’ He was silent again, and Caelan waited. Eventually he said, ‘Do you think Harris is behind the attack on Mulligan?’
She knew there was no point in lying to him. ‘Maybe.’
‘Wouldn’t surprise me. He’s a vicious bastard.’
‘He didn’t seem vicious when Nathan had a knife to his throat.’ Again Caelan braced herself, and again Nash surprised her.
‘Stefan’s got a big mouth, and it often gets him into trouble. Once it does, he backs off and lets other people handle it, because he’s shit at fighting and he hates getting hurt. Why do you think he goes around with two bodyguards?’
‘I’d assumed it was a status thing – you know, look at me with my staff.’
‘No, it’s because he’s a wimp and a coward.’
‘I heard he beats up his girlfriend,’ Caelan said.
‘You know about that? No doubt Mulligan told you. He was the one who took her to the hospital, did he mention that?’
‘James did?’ Caelan couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice, and Nash laughed.
‘Proper good Samaritan. It happened outside my club. Harris and Abbie had argued, and he’d punched her and stormed off. She was shocked, crying and bleeding. Mulligan got her into a taxi and took her to A and E. I didn’t know anything about it until the next day, or I’d have helped her myself. Nathan wanted to go and beat the shit out of Harris, but I persuaded him it wouldn’t be a great idea.’
‘Not good for business?’
‘Not good for Abbie,’ Nash said softly. ‘Anyway, let me know when you’ve spoken to Stefan.’
‘I thought you wanted to come along?’
‘Changed my mind. If he did… if he killed Nathan, or he was there while one of his mates did it, I’ll catch up with him sooner or later. I need to ask around first, get my facts straight. Have to say, though, he’s at the top of my list.’
‘Do you have his phone number and address?’
‘Harris’s, you mean? Yeah, don’t you?’
‘No, he never gave me it. There wasn’t much time between him flirting with me, then demanding money, then promising me his men would take the fifteen grand in kind if he told them to.’
‘Fucker,’ said Nash.
‘James also said you and Harris hate each other.’
Nash coughed. ‘Stefan’s never been my favourite person, even before all this kicked off. We’ve had a few misunderstandings, some business deals that have gone sour for one reason or another. He tends to hold a grudge.’
Caelan noted the fact that Reuben had said he’d attempted to work with Harris, because it meant there was more to his business than being a nightclub owner. Then again, with the amount of dealing she had seen happening in his club, it wasn’t a surprise.
‘Would you text me his number then, please?’ she said.
Nash sighed. ‘Okay, but you should be careful. Like I said, Stefan isn’t the easiest man to deal with.’
‘And you are?’ Her voice was almost a purr, and Ewan stifled a laugh as she mimed vomiting. Nash gave a throaty chuckle.
‘You’ll have to find out for yourself. Speak soon.’
He ended the call and Caelan turned to Ewan. ‘The worst part of this job isn’t the danger or the terrible hours, it’s flirting with people like Reuben Nash. I feel as though I need a shower, and we weren’t even in the same room.’
‘You were convincing, though. Reckon he thinks he’s in,’ Ewan said with a grin.
‘Lucky me.’
Her phone beeped and a mobile number appeared on the screen. ‘Oh, he’s sent me a kiss along with Harris’s number and the address of his cab company. How sweet.’ Caelan saved the number to her phone and sent a quick text. ‘I’ve told Harris we’re on our way. I’m not going to call, but I want to make sure he’s there when we arrive.’
Ewan screwed up his face. ‘I’m pretty sure he’ll want to see you.’
‘Even if I don’t have his money?’ Caelan pulled a face of her own. She was playing it down, but her stomach turned over when she thought of facing Stefan Harris again. She remembered the predatory look in his eyes, the way he had spoken to his girlfriend, and the promise that his men would take back the money any way he wanted. If they were looking for people traffickers, Harris had to be the prime suspect. She needed to keep talking to Nash, but she knew she would have to be careful. Nash might appear friendly, almost chatty, but he had told her little of value so far. She needed to continue to build up his trust.
Her phone began to ring, and she checked the screen, expecting it to be Stefan Harris.
‘Where are you?’ Penrith said without bothering with a greeting.
‘Oxford Circus. Why?’
She heard him click his tongue, then mutter to someone. ‘You haven’t been to the hospital?’
‘The…’ She realised he meant the one where Mulligan was being cared for. ‘No, not yet. Why?’
‘Don’t bother. We’re posting an officer to guard him, and you won’t have clearance.’
‘What’s happened?’
‘A minor incident,’ Penrith said. ‘A phone call was made to the hospital’s main switchboard. The caller was subtle, but they were trying to find out which ward Mulligan is on. Who have you spoken to, and what have you said?’
She told him. ‘Jolene Townsend knows which hospital Mulligan is in, but I didn’t tell Leyton Grey. Was the caller a man or a woman?’
‘We don’t know. The call wasn’t recorded, and the receptionist said it was a bad line, lots of crackling, the voice faint and muffled.’
‘Like someone whispering through a scarf and a few sheets of paper?’
‘Exactly like that, I’d guess.’ Penrith crunched something. It was probably a couple of boiled sweets but sounded more like gravel. ‘She reported it immediately, knowing Mulligan was the victim of an assault. It could be a friend who’s concerned about him, of course, but we’re not taking any chances.’
‘Jolene must have told someone where he is,’ Caelan said. ‘The only other way of finding out is to phone every hospital in London.’
Penrith paused for a moment. ‘You know, a more cynical man than me would say you gave Townsend the information to see what she would do with it.’
‘No comment.’ Caelan smiled to herself.
‘Why did you go to see Grey?’
‘Because he’s a mate of Mulligan’s and he appears to have loads of money. He seems to have genuinely built up a decent business, but I thought it was worth a visit.’
‘Casting your net far and wide?’
‘He admitted to cutting the hair of some of Mulligan’s more dubious friends. Who knows what else he’s done for them?’
Penrith heaved a breath. ‘I’ll leave it to your judgement, but don’t waste time.’
‘You’re the one who’s been talking about fishing trips and casting nets.’
‘Keep me updated. And you’ll be getting a call from our mutual friend.’
He was gone, leaving Caelan staring at her phone and wondering who he was talking about. Tim Achebe? Assistant Commissioner Beckett? She baulked at the thought.
Immediately the phone announced the arrival of a text, and she saw that Harris had replied.
The message said: I’ll be waiting.