‘ Yes.’
‘ Then you allowed Fitch to do a runner when you were transferring him back to the police station?’
‘ Yes.’
‘ And Don Smith got caught and convicted.’
‘ Yes.’
‘ So Fitch got his informants money, Crane got thirty grand, so did you, and Don Smith got a prison sentence…?’
‘ That’s what should have happened — except it went belly-up on the night.’
‘ How? Why?’
‘ OK,’ he swallowed, ‘they all three break into the Building Society. The safe gets blown. I’m next door in a greengrocer’s, watching all this on a monitor. I’ve set up the police operation and told everybody that the information is that all three offenders will come out of the back of the shop next door, which was an insurance broker’s.
‘ Crane grabs the money and hustles the other two out the back door — where they are met by every cop and his gun — and meanwhile Crane exits out the front door, blasting fuck out of it with a shotgun and running. He had a clear, pre-planned escape route, all the way back to his car. All he had to do was jump in and fuck off. I would just tell everybody he was unidentified.’ Gillrow looked glum. ‘But I cocked up big-style. There was so much going on in my head, trying to cover all the angles that I’d forgotten to stand down you and your mate from covering the Cosworth. It totally went out of my head. When Crane got there, he ran into you — and Bob’s your uncle.’
Although it had happened almost thirteen years before, Henry Christie’s memory of that night was just as vivid as ever. The vision of his best friend taking the shotgun blast and almost dying from it would live with him always. And the fear of that night would, too. Even as Gillrow had been relating the story, Henry’s heart had started beating quickly and adrenaline was pumping into his veins. He could taste the fear he had tasted on that night. Feel the metal of his revolver in his hand. Hear the blast of the shotgun. See Terry Briggs writhing in agony, almost dying.
He said nothing, but Danny saw him looking strangely at Gillrow.
‘ What happened to the money?’ she asked.
‘ We had a pre-arranged drop in a dustbin. I collected it after Fitch had done a “runner” from me. That’s the cash that paid for the deposit on this place. I put thirty grand into an offshore account for Crane. The extra seventy grand you talk about is legit. Came from a wealthy but dead uncle. Check it out.’
Danny was going to ask a question about his relationship now with Crane, but Henry had had enough, as evidenced by the words which he growled out. ‘You are a piece of shite!’
Henry rose quickly from his plastic chair, sending it clattering behind him. He dived across the gap to Gillrow, grabbed his T-shirt and chest skin underneath and hauled him to his feet. The older man whimpered in fright as Henry pushed him right up against the balcony rail. Henry was livid, literally purple with rage. Danny had never seen him like that.
‘ My friend nearly died for you that night, for your greed, for your corruption. I should throw you off here, you slimy bastard.’ Spittle from Henry’s mouth landed in little white bubbles on Gillrow’s face, the two men were so close.
‘ Henry! Henry let him go,’ Danny said firmly. She laid a calming hand on her lover’s shoulder. ‘He’s definitely not worth it.’
Henry drew back, smouldering. ‘I haven’t finished with you, Barney. Not by a fucking long chalk. I’ll show you just how I get results by operating with red tape and bureaucracy. The secret is to make it work for you… and I’m very, very good at that.’
Chapter Twenty-One
‘ Have you returned to earth from the Planet Zog, yet?’ Danny asked Henry in a gentle manner.
They had walked briskly back from Gillrow’s apartment to Los Cristianos, not having realised at the time — because they were having so much fun — how long they had stayed at the ex-detective’s place. They had left at 11.45 a.m. and needed to make the midday meeting with Loz, having arranged to see him at Henry’s hotel room for some further conversation. Ideally they would have preferred to have been in the room, waiting for him, inviting him into their lair, which would have given them the psychological advantage. Now they would be turning up late and flustered.
It was well after twelve when they got into the centre of Los Cristianos, both sweating profusely with the exertion. Henry had not spoken during their journey and Danny had let him have the time and space to brood and reflect. He had been very upset and made angry by Gillrow’s confession — quite understandably — and Danny accepted that. She would have been upset too. As it was, Gillrow’s total disregard for proper practice coupled with his dishonesty made her despise the man, rather than want to throw him over a balcony rail.
They were in the hotel, walking up the flight of steps to their rooms on the first floor, when Danny decided that Henry’s angry silence had gone on long enough. He needed to be in the right frame of mind for their meeting with Loz Brayfield and not take the legacy of his interaction with Gillrow in with him. Hence her playful jibe about that well-known fictional planet.
‘ Yeah,’ he said, and breathed out with relief. He had been carrying the tension with him all the way from Playa de las Americas and Danny had managed to break it with these words. His whole body relaxed visibly. His shoulders fell and a smile returned to his face. He shook his head wryly at his own stupidity. ‘I’d have had some explaining to do if I’d let go, wouldn’t I? I guess I just let the bastard get to me.’
They paused on a landing where the stairs did a 180-degree turn and grinned at each other.
‘ He got to me, too,’ Danny admitted. ‘I could have slapped him. We need to sort him out good and proper.’
Henry placed his hands on her shoulders, gazed into her eyes and said, seriously, but happily, ‘I love you.’
Her eyes shone brightly, captivating him.
They kissed and embraced quickly.
‘ Work to do,’ she said as they parted.
‘ Let’s go and see what our tame toss-bag has for us now,’ Henry said.
They turned, Danny ahead of him, and began to walk up the short flight of steps which would take them up to the first floor.
Loz was sitting on his backside on the corridor floor outside Henry’s room, knees drawn up, arms folded across them, forehead resting on his forearms, sighing with annoyance at their lateness. He had purposely been early for this rendezvous, eager to collect what he had come to regard as his winnings. Another thousand pounds. Only he had no idea what he was going to tell them today for his money. He had already divulged most of what he knew about Crane. He thought he would let Christie ask the questions — which would give him more chance to ogle the woman detective, Furness. Loz could still feel the outline of her bush in his hands and the feel of her soft tits from when he had grabbed her. The memory made him shudder with delight. Maybe he should insist on payment in kind. He sniggered to himself, imagining her giving him a blow job, then looked quickly along the corridor, thinking he’d heard someone coming. But there was no one in sight — just a shadow…
Ivankov had watched Loz leaving Uncle B’s, scuttling down the street like some sort of weasel. It was obvious that Loz was nervous, evidenced by the glances he continually threw over his shoulder, pausing at shop windows, sneaking furtive looks from side to side whilst pretending to inspect the goods on display. Ivankov wondered what he was playing at.
So far, the Russian’s discreet investigations had brought him as far as Loz and the information had been: find Loz and you find Billy Crane. But Crane was not on the scene. There was a whisper about a villa on La Gomera, but nothing more concrete than that. And Ivankov was now getting impatient. He had to get face to face with Crane very soon to satisfy Drozdov. The sooner the better. Having observed Loz, on and off, for over a day, it was getting to the point where Ivankov was going to ask some very direct questions of him. And then dispose of him.