"This isn't about money." He walked over to Parker and stood over him.
"You know Louise, yeah? From Angels?"
Parker put his hand up to his face.
"You've broken my nose," he said, his voice faltering.
"I'm going to break more than that," said Donovan.
"You know Louise, yeah?"
"Who are you? Her boyfriend?"
Donovan leaned down and grabbed a handful of Parker's thinning hair. He put his face close up to Parker's.
"No, I'm not her boyfriend. She doesn't want a boyfriend. She wants to be left alone. Do you understand that?"
"I love her," said Parker. Tears began to trickle down his face, mingling with the blood from his nose and mouth. Donovan felt a wave of revulsion for the man.
"You don't love her," said Donovan.
"You're obsessed with her. You've built some sad little fantasy around her, that's all. She doesn't love you. She doesn't even like you. She's scared of you."
"If I could just talk to her .. ." said Parker.
Donovan shook his head.
"No, you're never going to talk to her again. You're not going anywhere near her, ever again."
"She loves me .. ." wailed Parker.
Donovan twisted Parker's hair savagely and raised the poker above his head.
"Den, no!" shouted Kris.
"Go into the hall, Kris," said Donovan, without looking at her.
"Den .. ." she protested.
"Do it, Kris."
Parker tried to grab the poker but Donovan knelt down beside him and banged his head against the carpeted floor.
"Listen to me, and listen good!" Donovan hissed.
"You go near her again, and I'll kill you. Do you hear me?"
Parker nodded.
"I want to hear you say it," said Donovan.
"I hear you," said Parker, his voice trembling. He tried to clear his throat but began to choke on his own phlegm.
"Do you understand?" hissed Donovan.
Parker nodded.
"I can't hear you," said Donovan.
Parker spat bloody phlegm on to the carpet.
"I understand."
"I hope you believe me, Nick, because I can and will do it. And this is just a taste of what it'll be like." Donovan brought the poker smashing down on to Parker's right knee. The kneecap cracked like a pistol shot and Parker screamed. Donovan clamped a hand over the man's mouth.
"Hush," said Donovan.
Parker's whole body was trembling. Bloody froth pulsed between Donovan's fingers but he kept his hand over Parker's mouth until he'd stopped screaming. Donovan hit him again, whacking the left knee dead centre. Parker's eyes rolled upwards and he passed out.
Donovan stood up. He pulled out Parker's shirt-tail and used it to wipe the handle of the poker.
Kris was standing by the front door, hugging herself. She looked at him, then quickly looked away. Donovan gently held her chin between his thumb and first finger and turned her face towards him. She looked into his eyes, frowning as if she were trying to work out what he was thinking. Donovan smiled.
"He asked for it, Kris," he said.
"I know," she said quietly.
"You saw the marks on Louise's face. He hit her."
"I know," she said, with more certainty this time.
"This way he won't do it again."
Kris put her hands on his shoulders. She kissed him on the cheek.
"You don't have to explain, Den. I was just.. . shocked. Surprised. That's all."
Donovan nodded.
"A week or two in hospital. He'll be fine." That was a lie, Donovan knew. Parker would be in bed for a month, and wouldn't be walking for at least six. So far as Donovan was concerned, it served Parker right, but he didn't think Kris would want to hear that.
"Do you want to run me home?" he asked.
"I don't know," she said in mock seriousness.
"What'll you do to me if I say no? Punch me in the face?"
Donovan laughed and licked the blood off his knuckles.
Kris pulled the MGB over at the kerb but kept the engine running. She looked out of the window at Donovan's house.
"Nice," she said.
"Yeah. Do you wanna buy it?" said Donovan, deadpan.
"Oh yeah, like I can afford a place like that. How much is it worth?"
"I dunno. Prices have gone crazy over the last year or so. Three mill, maybe."
Kris whistled softly.
"You live there alone?"
Donovan shook his head.
"No. Not really."
"That sounds a bit vague, Den."
"Yeah, well, I'm sort of in a transition stage at the moment. My wife has left me."
Kris grinned.
"The number of times I've heard that. My wife doesn't understand me. We've grown apart. She hasn't touched me since the children were born. Blah, blah, blah."
"My son found her in bed with another man."
Kris's mouth fell open.
"You're serious?"
"Deadly."
She nodded at the house.
"So is your boy in there now?"
Donovan shook his head.
"Nah, he's staying with my sister until I get things sorted."
"Sorted?"
"I don't know if I'm cut out to be a single parent," said Donovan.
"You're his dad. That's all that matters."
"I guess," said Donovan.
Kris looked at her watch.
"I'd better be getting back to Louise. Check that she's okay. I said I'd stay the night with her."
"She's a nice kid."
"You interested? I could put in a good word for you. She's young, free and single."
Donovan grinned.
"I think my life's probably complicated enough as it is, but thanks for the offer."
"Not your type?"
"Where are we, the playground?"
"Word is you like blondes."
"My wife was a blonde. But I've never let hair colour get in the way of a good shag. She's a stunner, okay. Happy now?"
"I'll tell her," said Kris.
"Seriously, Den. Thanks for tonight."
"Happy to have been a help," said Donovan.
"It's been years since I was in a fistfight. Brought back memories."
"Not sure it was a fight, more of a beating up," said Kris. Donovan climbed out of the sports car laughing and waved as she drove away.
"You got the registration number?" said Shuker as he clicked away with the SLR camera.
"No sweat," saidjenner.
"Bit of all right, wasn't she?"Jenner was sitting at a dressing table and writing in the log. A pair of high-powered binoculars lay on the table next to a Thermos flask and two plastic cups.
"Yeah, he's got a thing about blondes." Shuker continued to take photographs until Donovan closed the front door.
"Wonder why she didn't go inside?"
Shuker and Jenner were Customs officers, and both were experienced surveillance operatives. Shuker was the elder of the two at thirty-six, but Jenner had been with HM Customs longer as he'd joined straight from school. They were in a flat diagonally opposite Donovan's that was owned by an Inland Revenue tax inspector. The bedroom was normally occupied by the inspector's ten-year-old daughter, but she'd been moved in with her sister and the whole family had been sworn to secrecy. The nature of the target hadn't been divulged to the family, just that it was a neighbour who was under surveillance. Shuker and Jenner were in the room for twelve hours a day, from midnight until noon, with two other Customs officers taking the alternate shift. Both men had plans for all the overtime they'd earn keeping an eye on Den Donovan. Shuker was saving for a Honda Gold Wing motorbike and Jenner had promised his wife and kids two weeks in Florida.
Donovan opened the fridge and sighed when he saw that there was no soda water. He opened the freezer section and cursed. No ice cubes, either. He sipped his Jack Daniels neat and went through to the sitting room. He sat down on a sofa and swung his legs up on to the coffee table. It was littered with glossy magazines. Vogue. Elle. Marie Claire. They were all Vicky's. He kicked them away. He should have put them into the black rubbish bags with the rest of her stuff. He wanted nothing of hers in the house.