‘I think Ed murdered your brother,’ Sarah said.
‘You’re wrong.’
‘How can you be so sure, so suddenly?’
‘I am sure. I know who done it.’
‘Who?’
‘Think I’d tell you, way you’ve treated me?’
‘I treated you with nothing but respect. And I helped get Ed out of prison. You’ve suddenly decided I did the right thing, but I’m not so sure any more.’
‘The evidence against Ed was rubbish. He only got put away because they needed someone for killing a cop. He’d have got out without you.’
‘Convince me,’ Sarah pleaded. ‘Tell me what Ed told you. Who killed Terry and Liv Shanks? Why did they do it?’
The front door opened and closed. Ed charged into the room. His nose was red and there was blood on his shirt.
‘Get out,’ Polly told Sarah. ‘Ed, what happened?’
Sarah stood with her back to the door. Ed glared at her.
‘Who attacked you, Ed?’ Sarah asked, allowing no sympathy in her voice.
‘You know who did.’
‘Nick hit you?’
‘Then ran off, ’sright. But I’ll catch up with him, don’t you worry.’
Sarah felt a warm buzz of affection for Nick.
‘Look how smug she is,’ Polly said, as Ed took off his shirt.
‘How did you do it, Ed?’ Sarah asked. ‘How did you convince Polly you didn’t attack me? The same way you made her believe you didn’t kill her brother?’
‘She dun’t need convincing of ought. Poll knows what happened to Terry, and to Liv. And she knows what’s going to happen to you.’ Ed lowered his voice and reached over Sarah. His sweaty chest crushed her breasts, while his right hand jammed the door closed. ‘There were no witnesses, were there? There’s only me and you know how hard I fucked you, how you told me it were the best shag you’d had your whole life. But this afternoon, Poll’s a witness. What do you say, Poll? A’right wi’ you if I give her seconds?’
Sarah couldn’t tell if Ed was serious. She reached for her phone. It wasn’t in her pocket. She’d left it in the car. She looked over Ed’s shoulder for help, assurance that they were winding her up. Polly’s face was a blank, unreadable.
‘Let’s finish what we started,’ Ed said.
It was Nick’s last shift and one of his first jobs was to pick up his brother.
‘How is she?’
‘Don’t reckon it’ll be long now,’ Joe said. ‘Thanks for agreeing to do a shift.’
‘You’re not going to the Labour bash?’
‘I’ll be there late on, I expect. Nas has to get home sometime.’
‘Nas’s brothers,’ Nick said. ‘Do they know about you?’
‘You must be joking.’
‘You lead a risky life,’ Nick said.
‘There’s no fun without risk,’ Joe said. ‘You told me that once, when I warned you about the skunk operation.’
‘I don’t remember it being all that much fun. Profitable, yes, but half of it went up my nose. It was certainly a risk.’
‘You were bound to get caught sometime.’
‘Most people don’t,’ Nick said. ‘I was unlucky.’
‘You make your own luck. If I’d come in with you, like you wanted, I wouldn’t have any of . . . this.’
‘No need to rub it in,’ Nick said. His brother had never been good at tact. It was one reason he always got what he wanted. Joe changed the subject.
‘Someone said they saw that Andrew Saint in town the other day. You still in touch with him?’
‘Not really.’
‘I tried to call him, like you asked me to, when you got busted. He never returned my calls.’
‘He was in the States, I think. Doesn’t matter. He couldn’t have done much.’
‘No? Not much is still better than nothing.’
Nick let Joe out at the Cane Cars office, where Nas was bound to tell him about his fight with Ed. It shouldn’t matter to Joe, not with Nick leaving. The two men operated on a ‘need to know’ basis. This was, Nick decided, the safest way. He could never completely rule out the thought that Joe had betrayed him to the police as some kind of retaliation for his affair with Caroline, to get him out of the way. But Joe still didn’t seem to suspect they’d had a fling and Nick was no longer so paranoid. They might not be as close as some, but Joe was his brother. He wouldn’t give him up. Whereas Andrew Saint was merely an old friend, one he’d drifted apart from. And Andrew had warned him when he began the skunk operation: in the drugs business, there were no real friendships, only alliances.
Since getting out, Nick had slowly come to the conclusion that the Saint must have betrayed him. He knew about the caves, had given Nick the contacts to sell the stuff on. He took a small commission at first, then told Nick not to bother. He didn’t want any of his income traceable to a criminal enterprise. At the time, Nick thought this was generous, an act of friendship. Now he wasn’t so sure. Andrew had been overgenerous since Nick got out, too. Two grand would have been enough. The extra three, the home visit, these things smelt of guilt more than kind-heartedness.
But the betrayal? That puzzled Nick. Andrew was either out of the country already, or had fled shortly after Nick’s arrest. Had he given Nick to the police as a bargaining chip to get himself off some lesser charge? Or was Nick still being paranoid and the whole debacle was what the police claimed, a combination of police work and luck?
Inside, Nick never allowed himself to dream that he might rekindle something with Sarah. He still doubted it. Some people used a long stretch to study. He’d had time to get an MA, a PhD even. Instead, he’d slacked the days away, becoming a cruder, less complicated person than he was on the out. That was how you got through. Nick knew he’d live to regret hitting Ed. Inside, he’d not got into fights. He’d hit back a couple times when he had to, but never struck out in blind rage, the way he had with Ed, today. Violence should always be calculated to have the maximum effect, that was what the smart cons said. What effect did hitting Ed have? He’d probably go home and take it out on Polly.
And maybe Polly liked being hit. When they were together, Nick had been surprised by how rough she wanted him to be. Polly brought out a side of Nick he hadn’t been aware of.
What if Ed decided to take it out on Sarah? This was her big day. The last thing she needed was big Ed turning up while she was campaigning, throwing a spanner in the works. He ought to warn her.
She answered on the second ring. There was something wrong with her voice.
‘I know,’ she said, when he told her about Ed.
‘How?’
‘I’ve seen him.’
‘Already? I don’t understand . . .’
‘I went to see Polly. He came back . . .’ She began to cry.
‘Where are you?’ he asked. ‘I’m coming.’
‘I’m sitting in my car.’ She told him where.
Nick was with Sarah within five minutes.
‘I’ll kill him,’ he vowed. ‘I’ll take a brick to the bastard and . . .’
‘Stop, stop. You know it wouldn’t do any good. Ed can control himself. You have to learn the same or you’ll end up back in prison.’
‘The bastard assaulted you.’
‘He brushed his hand against my breasts. He scared me so much I wet myself. He didn’t physically hurt me. He made it clear that he could rape me and get away with it, that his girlfriend would hold me down.’
‘Polly helped?’
‘She didn’t do anything to stop him. She didn’t help him either. She’s in Ed’s power. She acts hard, but she’s terrified of him, I’m sure of it. If I went to the police, she’d swear I suggested a threesome. Only Ed isn’t stupid enough to go that far. He enjoys power but he’s too clever to take unnecessary risks.’