The bouncer was still in position at the top of the stairs, and as Caelan passed him he called, ‘Nice bag.’
She turned back, scowling. He raised his hands as she approached him.
‘If Mr Nash has given you an errand to run, it’s none of my business,’ he said.
‘An errand.’ Caelan nodded as though he’d said something fascinating. ‘Do you run many errands for him yourself?’
Now his hands went to his hips and he leant towards her. ‘My job is keeping this place safe, making sure people can enjoy themselves without any problems.’
‘Except Stefan Harris.’
‘Harris? That bloke deserves everything he gets. He was lucky we let him walk out of here.’
‘After Nathan Nash had a knife to his throat?’ Caelan adjusted the bag, the notes heavy on her shoulder.
‘Harris needed teaching a lesson. He’s no respect.’
‘And then Nathan died.’
The bouncer frowned. ‘If Harris was involved, he’ll pay. The boss hates him already, and if he even suspects Nathan was killed on Harris’s orders, he’s dead.’
Caelan smiled at him. ‘You don’t think Harris would have attacked Nathan himself?’
A mocking laugh. ‘No chance. Cowardly bastard.’
‘What about Johnny and Chris?’
‘Who?’
‘The two geezers who follow Harris around everywhere.’
‘Those two? Arses with both hands comes to mind.’
‘You don’t rate them?’
‘I don’t rate many people.’ He folded his arms. ‘Jury’s out on you, though.’
‘I’ll remember that.’
‘The boss likes loyalty and people who do as they’re told. Remember that and you’ll be fine. And, you know…’
‘What?’
‘Let him bend you over his desk every now and again.’ He winked. ‘Easier for you women to make an impression, isn’t it?
Caelan took a step towards him. ‘You always do as you’re told, then?’
‘Whatever the boss tells me, yeah.’ He watched her as she moved closer. ‘Like I said, he appreciates loyalty and I wouldn’t let him down.’
Caelan was almost nose to nose with him now. ‘He’s never asked you to do anything you didn’t want to do?’
His eyes skipped away. ‘As long as he pays me, I keep my mouth shut.’
‘Good to know.’ She leant closer still. ‘What about Nathan?’
‘What about him?’
‘Someone killed him, whether they meant to or not.’
‘Don’t look at me.’
‘I’m not. But your boss might be. I’d think carefully about that if I were you.’
Downstairs, Caelan pushed through the crowd, always conscious of the bag of money. She considered pulling it from her shoulder and holding it against her chest, but that would make it obvious there was something of value inside. She kept moving.
She saw Nash’s tame drug dealers approaching people, the quick handover of cash then merchandise, and quickened her pace. She ignored the bar staff, marched past the bouncers. The place felt toxic, and she couldn’t wait to leave it behind.
Outside, the air was cold, freezing drizzle stinging her cheeks. She paused at the spot where they had found Nathan Nash’s body, knowing she was no closer to discovering who had killed him than she had been then.
Looking up at the building she had just left, she tried to work out where Nash’s safe room would be located. Since it didn’t have a window, it was difficult to guess, but she thought it would be on the other side of the building, where it was attached to the shop next door. She made her way down the alley, onto the street. The kebab shop was doing a decent trade, three men standing outside eating from polystyrene trays, the shapes of people waiting in a queue inside visible through the steamed-up windows. Caelan kept walking, not wanting to attract attention. One of the men looked up from his food, and she waited for a comment or laughter, but it didn’t come. She told herself to relax, to trust herself and her training. She crossed the road, took shelter under a bus stop and tried to get her bearings. The back of the club was attached to the kebab shop, the entrance down the alleyway between them. Could Nash’s strongroom be over the alleyway? And if so…
She waited for the people inside the shop to receive their food and crowd onto the pavement. The three men had already disappeared into a taxi, and the group began to make their way down the street, laughing as they tried to eat and walk.
Inside, the shop was warm, the smells of meat, pizza and chips reminding Caelan she needed to eat. There were two men behind the counter, one cooking, one serving. They both looked up as she approached, and she guessed they were brothers.
‘What can I get you?’ the man standing by the till said with a smile. His name tag read Arif.
Smiling back, she looked up at the menu board behind him.
‘Chicken burger and fries, please.’ She thought it would take the longest to cook. Handing over a twenty-pound note, she waited for him to count out her change before she said, ‘Busy tonight?’
Arif nodded. ‘Yeah, fairly.’
The other man was scooping salad into a burger bun, keeping an eye on the fryer.
‘You must get a lot more customers when the club closes,’ Caelan said.
‘Sometimes. Rain doesn’t help. Lot of people just want to get home when they’ve had a skinful.’
‘Hear a bloke died there recently.’
‘Outside the club, yeah.’ He grinned. ‘Nothing to do with our food, though.’
She laughed, though the other man raised his eyes to the ceiling. He’d probably heard the joke several times already.
‘Did you know him?’ Caelan knew she was firing questions, moving too quickly, but she needed to get to Harris. From there, she didn’t have a clue, but if she was ever going to leave this assignment behind, she had to find some answers. It didn’t seem as though Achebe, Brady and Somerville were close to providing any.
‘Nathan? Yeah, he came in here quite often. Working late, couldn’t be arsed to cook. You know how it is.’
‘I only met him once, but I know his brother.’ Caelan checked on the progress of her order. The fries weren’t ready, so she doubted the burger was. Keep talking.
‘Reuben? Yeah, I know Reuben.’ Arif’s tone made his opinion clear.
‘You don’t like him?’
He screwed up his face. ‘It’s his attitude. He owns a crappy little club in Ealing Broadway, walks around like he’s king of the world, but when he comes in here, he expects freebies ’cos we’re neighbours.’
‘Maybe if he let you into the club for free…?’
He snorted. ‘Not exactly a favour. Have you been in there?’
‘Yeah, just now.’
He saw the bag on her shoulder and frowned. ‘Like that, is it?’
‘What?’
‘I know what goes on in there, know what he has people doing. I don’t want that shit in my shop.’
‘Food’s ready,’ the other man said.
‘Good.’ Arif turned from the counter, grabbed the white polystyrene carton and set it on the counter. ‘Take it, and your bag of crap, and close the door behind you. No offence, but if that’s how you make your living, we don’t want your custom again.’
Even though she knew he was wrong about her, Caelan was stung. ‘Listen, you know nothing about me. I’m not into that stuff.’
‘But you know Reuben Nash, you go to the club.’ He pushed the food towards her. ‘Take it,’ he said again.
Caelan stood her ground. ‘What’s your problem with Reuben?’
He stared at her. ‘You really don’t know?’
‘I’ve only just met him.’ That at least was true.
‘Watch your mouth, Arif,’ the other man warned as he lifted more fries from the oil and shook them. ‘We don’t know who she is.’
Arif grunted. ‘As if it matters. We’re out of here in five days.’
‘You’re closing?’ Caelan sensed they had more to tell her, though whether it would help her or not, she had no idea.
Head tipped to the side, Arif studied her. ‘Want my advice? Go back into the club, give back whatever you have in that bag and run. Nash is bad news.’
Despite herself, Caelan felt a pulse of fear. ‘Why?’
‘I told you. Drugs.’ He pointed with his thumb. ‘This is my brother. Our cousin? He’s banged up for five years because he went to work for Nash. We never found out what he was doing, but I don’t think it was serving drinks.’
‘Nash owns this building, and a couple more in this street.’ The other man came to stand beside his brother, arms folded. His own tag read Kadim. ‘He bought the place last year, and he wants us out of here next week. Our mum and dad started this shop twenty years ago, when they first came to London. Now we’re being kicked out because some greedy bastard wants to charge more rent than we could ever afford.’
‘What will you do?’ Caelan asked.
‘What can we do? Pack our bags. One of our mates has the newsagent’s down the street. Nash raised his rent but our friend couldn’t pay. Overnight, the shop windows were smashed, the door forced, the place ransacked.’ Kadim gave a humourless smile. ‘Nash charged him for the clean-up, and the new glass as well.’
‘Is he still there?’
‘Until he finds a job, yeah. He lives above the place with his family, so they need a house too. Young kids, his mother-in-law lives with them and she’s disabled. Nash doesn’t give a shit if they end up on the streets.’
‘What about you? Do you live here?’
Arif nodded. ‘I do. There’s a flat upstairs.’
‘More like a wardrobe,’ Kadim said.
‘Anyway, I’ll have to move back in with my parents.’ Arif blinked. ‘It’s the way he’s gone about it, you know? Just throwing us out.’
‘Did he tell you this himself?’
Laughter.
Arif shook his head. ‘As if. He sent a couple of blokes round.’
‘Blokes?’
‘Heavies, you know what I mean. One speaks, the other stands there glaring like he wants to rip your head off. We got the message.’
She wanted to ask for a description, but thought she would be going too far. She got the idea. The brothers’ story had put a new slant on the conversation she’d had with Nash earlier: Expand your empire? she had said, and Nash had smiled. Empire. I like that.
Arif nodded at the box of food. ‘Aren’t you eating?’
Caelan hesitated. How should she play this? ‘All right, cards on the table,’ she said. ‘I work for someone who’d like to see Nash put out of business.’ Again, she was telling the truth. Ian Penrith and Stefan Harris would both agree with her. ‘I’m no more a drug dealer than you are – I’m trying to get close to Nash to see what I can find out. Can I trust you?’
They looked at each other.
‘We don’t want any trouble,’ Kadim said. ‘I’ve a family to think of.’
Arif glanced at him. ‘Why don’t you go and get some cigarettes?’
Kadim frowned. ‘Cigarettes?’
‘Just get out of here for a few minutes.’
Kadim frowned, then nodded. ‘Be careful, Arif.’
He opened the hatch in the counter and walked out of the shop without looking back. Arif waited until he was out of sight before speaking.
‘My brother’s cautious, but he has three kids, and with losing the shop… It’s a worrying time.’
‘I understand. What else can you tell me about Nash?’
‘I’ve mentioned the way he’s forced people out of business. We’ve heard rumours about beatings, people who’ve refused to do what he wants getting hurt.’
Caelan thought of Nathan Nash’s injuries. ‘Hurt? In what way?’
‘I don’t know the details, but I doubt Nash was ever involved himself. He has people who work for him.’ He stopped, rubbed his face with both hands. ‘This is hearsay, you understand? I couldn’t swear to any of it, probably wouldn’t if I was asked to. It’s just what I’ve heard.’
‘None of it will get back to Nash, I promise you.’
He glanced around. ‘It’s like he owns us as well as the building, you know? We’re not people, we’re just here to make money for him, and if we don’t play along, we’re out.’
‘Is there any way of getting from the club into this building without going outside? Any connecting doors, any way through the roof space?’
His face was blank. ‘I don’t think so. My flat’s on the first floor, and there’s no hatch leading to the loft or anything like that.’
And if Nash had somehow come through from the nightclub to the upstairs of this building, run downstairs through the shop to kill his brother then done the journey in reverse, Arif and Kadim would have seen him.
Maybe they had, and he’d paid them to keep their mouths shut? Caelan studied Arif’s face and knew that hadn’t happened.
‘Does anyone else work here, or is it just you and your brother?’
‘Just the two of us. Family business.’ He gave a sad smile. ‘Or it was.’