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I bit my tongue and did as I was invited. Resisting the urge to mow down the lot of them was a difficult one, particularly since I was probably in an ideal vehicle to do so.

Sometimes it’s just heroic, the self-control I have.

***

Much to the obvious surprise of the policeman who’d warned me on the way into Lavender Gardens, I escaped from the estate without picking up any unexpected modifications to the Nissan’s bodywork. I gave them a cheery wave as I weaved between the panda cars, but this time I didn’t stop.

Instead, I headed back into Lancaster. I drove through town concentrating too much on the actual mechanics of driving to give a great deal of thought to the little confrontation I’d just had with Garton-Jones and his men. But it was there, all the same, niggling away in the background.

At least my driving seemed to be getting better with practise, and it was quite a revelation to suddenly have road presence. Other car drivers just didn’t try and cut me up like they invariably did when I was on the Suzuki.

Ten minutes later I pulled up outside Attila’s place and killed the engine. I sat for a few moments before getting out, trying to work out how I was going to phrase my request to my boss.

I had told Sean that I knew just the back-up I could call on before going to confront Jav, but now it came down to it I wasn’t sure if I had any right to ask.

A loud knock on the side glass made me jump. Wayne was grinning at me through the window.

I opened the door with a hand on my chest. “God, you frightened the life out of me!”

“Sorry girl,” the black man said, still grinning. He had his coat collar turned up against the steady beat of the rain. Gym bag in hand, he was just leaving from his workout. “So, what’s with the motor? You finally get fed up of that bike of yours, or did you just win the lottery?”

“Neither,” I said, jumping down from my seat onto the gravel. “It’s Sean’s.”

“What did you do, shoot him for it?” Wayne asked quietly then, and I realised that I still hadn’t shifted that damned gun out of the driver’s door pocket. Wayne’s eyes were riveted to it.

I sighed. “No, but someone else did,” I said. I picked the Glock up and leaned over to shove it into the glovebox, slamming the lid. Then I shut the car door and rested my back against it.

Wayne seemed to snap out of it once the gun had disappeared from his view. He put a meaty hand on my shoulder, and when I looked up I found his face full of genuine concern.

“What’s going on girl?” he asked, brow furrowed.

I jerked my head towards the gym door. “Come inside,” I said, “I’ve got to tell Attila all about it anyway and there’s no point in saying it twice.”

The place was going through its usual early-afternoon lull when we walked in. Attila and Wayne were able to sit on a couple of the weights benches and listen to my story about Langford, Ali, Jav and Garton-Jones without an audience.

Very little expression showed on either man’s face when I came to the part about finding Langford’s body, and about Sean being hit.

I listened to my own voice calmly explaining it all as though I was going through a shopping list, and realised that it simply hadn’t sunk in. When it did finally register, I was probably going to come apart at the seams. I knew I couldn’t let that happen.

Not yet.

Now though, as I finished my tale, Wayne sat up straight and gave me a level stare.

“What d’you need girl?” he said. He grinned in Attila’s direction. “Want us to go round there and sort out this Garton-Jones bloke?”

“Not yet,” I said, throwing him a quick smile. “I’ve got to make sure he was the one pulling Jav’s strings. If he wasn’t, then there’s someone else involved in all this that I haven’t even considered yet.”

“And you think you know where this Jav might be found?” Attila asked.

“Apparently he plays a lot of snooker. I know Nasir was a member of one of the local snooker clubs and they used to play together. All I have to do is find out which one.”

Attila stood up, muscles rippling under his T-shirt. He gestured towards the phone on the counter. “Find out,” he said. “I don’t like people shooting up my place, and then shooting up my friends. Find out, and I’ll help you put a stop to it.”

They were brave words from a man as intrinsically gentle as Attila. Under the surface he’s a complete pacifist, with a tendency to go queasy at the sight of spilt blood. His own, particularly, but other people’s would usually do the trick.

Wayne stood, also. “I’ve nothing on this afternoon girl,” he said casually. “I’ll give you a hand if you like.”

I paused for a moment, not in hesitation, but in surprise that these two men should offer their support without reserve. Eventually, I nodded.

“Thank you,” I said simply. As I headed for the phone I was aware of the sharp prickle of unshed tears in my throat.

***

I tried Sean first, at Jacob and Clare’s. Clare answered the call, and told me the boys weren’t back yet.

“Jacob rang in about twenty minutes ago,” she told me. “It’s Nasir’s bike all right, and they were going to go out to the scene before they come home, so they might be a while, I’m afraid.”

“Never mind,” I said. “There’s someone else I can try.”

Ringing Madeleine wasn’t easy, and I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to say to Sean’s mother, if she picked up the receiver instead. In the event, I didn’t recognise the little voice who answered the phone.

“Hello, hello?”

“Hello,” I said carefully. “Who’s that?”

“I’m Tara,” the voice said proudly, “and I’m nearly five.”

Slowly, clearly, I asked for Madeleine, then listened as the handset was dropped on the floor and a minute or so of shouting and giggling went on in the background. I was just about to ring off when Madeleine came on the line, sounding out of breath.

“Charlie!” she said sharply, cutting off my greeting. “Sean rang me earlier. How is he?”

“He’s OK,” I said, cautious at her abrupt tone. “He and Jacob have gone out to look for the bike Roger was on, but—”

“What?” Madeleine bit out. She lowered her voice as if wary of eavesdroppers and went on in a savage whisper. “You’ve let him go gallivanting around when he’s just been shot? He should be in hospital, for Christ’s sake! What were you thinking?”

I felt my own temper flare and climb steadily. I made sure Wayne and Attila were far enough away not to be able to overhear my end of the conversation. They weren’t. Attila had drafted him in to relocate one of the far stacks of dumbbells.

“Just back it off will you, Madeleine?” I snapped. “Don’t you think that getting him to a hospital wasn’t my first priority? I tried. He wouldn’t go. So I got him out of there before the police grabbed him, and I got one of the best surgeons in the country to come and sort him out. What more did you want me to do?”

There was a long silence as both of us struggled to find some means of defusing the situation, of backing down.

Neither of us succeeded.

Eventually, necessity intervened. “Anyway, I need some information,” I said stiffly. “Where was that snooker club you said Nasir was a member of?”

“Why?”

“Because I think that’s where we might find Jav.”

There was another tense pause. “Where are you now?” she demanded.

I let my breath out slowly through my nose, but none of my irritation went with it. “What does that matter? Just tell me the name of the place, Madeleine.”

At that moment, Wayne accidentally let one of the dumbbells slip. The clatter it made when it hit the thinly-carpeted wooden flooring was loud, and distinctive.