Night after night, when he had finally dropped off, it was into a fitful sleep, which left him with a headache in the morning. And then it was his turn not to speak, getting his own breakfast and slamming out of the house.
Fuller decided he wouldn’t pick up and reached for his overcoat instead.
Reynolds answered the phone and Fuller waited, dreading the familiar: ‘It’s your wife.’
Instead, Reynolds walked round the desk, his hand over the mouthpiece.
‘It’s that bloke again, wanting Resnick. Third time today.’
Fuller relaxed, relieved he didn’t have to go through the nagging with Reynolds listening.
‘What’s he want?’
Reynolds shrugged, and Fuller jerked the phone out of his hand. Reynolds could be annoyingly indecisive at times.
‘Yes? You want Resnick? Well, he’s retired, no longer here, you understand?’ Fuller listened, tapping his fingers on the desk. ‘My name? Detective Inspector Fuller... yes, Fuller.’
Fuller made to put the phone down, then suddenly clamped it to his ear and started scrambling for a pad and pen with his other hand.
‘What time? I’ll be there. Hang on, this friend of yours, does he have a name? Hello, hello?’
He slowly replaced the receiver and looked at what he’d written. Then he looked at Reynolds and grinned. ‘I told you that thirty thousand reward would bring somethin’ in, didn’t I? Well, it just did. Our friend—’ Fuller tapped the phone — ‘our friend thinks somebody just tried to palm him some of the money from the underpass raid.’
Reynolds felt a surge of adrenaline. ‘Did he give a name?’
Fuller shook his head. ‘Just a meet. But that’s all we need.’
‘You think Resnick would know who he is?’
‘Resnick’s not going to help us with anything.’ Fuller picked up his umbrella with a tight smile. ‘Well, screw him, then.’ And with that, he pushed through the swing doors and left.
Colin Soal spoke softly, his accent meandering from Old Etonian to Cockney. He spoke with authority, though, and Harry and Micky listened intently.
‘This is a tricky one, all right. You got no access from either of the toilets or the ground-floor windows — they’re all barred — so you got to come in through the kitchens, and they’re like a bleedin’ rabbit warren, lots of small rooms, very dodgy. Then your front entrance — again, two corridors, plus a cloakroom. Fire exits lead out of the building on three levels; that’s fine, get a man in on each level, move in from there, it’s the only way. Come in front, kitchens and fire escapes, doors are a baby’s turn, just need a jimmy, but I reckon you’ll be coping with at least six or seven security guards, two at the front, one at the back, two on the ballroom doors and two with the jewels.’
Soal dropped his gold pen, leaned back and looked at Harry, then at Micky. ‘Need at least seven men to do it right, or forget it.’
Harry had heard enough; how many men were required was his business. The meeting was over. With a nod to Micky to begin packing up the plans, he reached for his coat.
‘You’re invited to the do, of course, Colin.’
Dolly was stiff from trying not to move or make any noise, and Bella took over her position. After a few seconds she turned to Dolly and showed her four fingers for four men: another man had been sitting, unseen by Dolly, to one side. Then Bella pressed her face against the wall again.
Murphy helped Colin Soal into his overcoat. Harry caught Murphy’s eye and beckoned him over with a jerk of his head. Harry put his arm round Murphy’s shoulder and turned him round, so they had their backs to Colin and Micky.
‘Any problems with the money? Decent exchange?’
Murphy was happy Harry was being matey with him again; it made him feel the cock-up on the heath had been forgotten.
‘Yeah, it all went without a hitch. I used Sonny Chizzel.’
Rawlins breathed in sharply. ‘Keep an eye on him, he’s a bit... I wouldn’t trust him further than I could throw him.’ He gave Murphy a friendly pat on the shoulder, then turned back to Micky and Colin.
‘Nice job, very impressive,’ Micky was saying. ‘So how you gonna come and go on the day?’
Colin dusted the dandruff from his collar, then reached down for his briefcase. He didn’t like this blond boy; he was too young, too pushy, and far too good-looking. He never trusted the good-looking ones; they were usually the ones that shat in their pants when things got heavy.
Micky realized that Colin didn’t think he was worth talking to. He wasn’t about to let himself be humiliated in front of Harry. ‘Come on, Colin. How you gonna do it?’
Without looking up, Colin Soal used his poshest, smoothest voice. ‘Press photographer. I’ve snapped them all, all the top models, don’t you know?’
Micky raised his eyebrows. ‘You got cameras, all the gear, then?’
Colin Soal looked at Harry, just a flick of his eyebrows, but it said ‘get this kid off my back’ as clearly as if he’d said it out loud.
‘Good night, Micky,’ Harry said, and again Micky felt the brush-off.
One of these days he’d have it out with Harry, put the man straight. No more ‘do this, fetch me that.’ They were partners. Yeah, one of these days, Harry would find out what Micky was really all about.
He walked out, giving Colin a wink on the way.
Murphy picked up his faded coat and, with the air of a good butler, folded it over his arm, nodded in turn to Harry and Colin, then followed Micky out.
Colin jerked his head after the disappearing Murphy. ‘He’s not changed, has he? Doesn’t look any older. I’d watch that kid, though; pushy little sod.’
Harry didn’t reply, just opened the briefcase from Sonny Chizzel and took out £2000, closing it quickly, so Colin couldn’t see how much was in it. Good as Colin was, he wouldn’t trust him any more than Sonny Chizzel.
‘You still not interested in coming in on the action, Colin? Fifty G each, man, and that’s just for starters; there could be even more.’
Harry saw Colin thinking it over, then shake his head. Colin might be short of cash — but he wasn’t that short. Still, plenty of time to work on him, Harry thought, and he was definitely tempted.
Harry handed him the cash, and with no show of embarrassment Colin counted it, then tucked it into his wallet.
‘I’m gettin’ a bit long in the tooth to be wielding the old shooters, Harry, but I’ll complete the layout as agreed, get it all sewn up for you. There won’t be a door in that place you don’t know about — that and the tip-off. But I want to be clean away before the aggro starts, agreed?’
‘Sure, Colin.’
‘To be honest, Harry, I don’t fancy your chances of pulling it off. You’re gonna need the best there is on this one.’ Colin hesitated, and Harry frowned. What was he hedging about?
Colin picked up his briefcase, then put it down again. ‘Word is out on you, Harry. Plenty of people won’t touch you; they reckon you ditched those men, let them burn alive. Joe Pirelli and Terry Miller were good blokes, well liked.’
Harry just wanted Colin out now. Stupid prick with his fancy voice and holes in his shoes.
‘There’s a new DI,’ Colin continued, oblivious. ‘Took over from that old bloke Resnick. Name’s Fuller, and I hear he’s a right bastard, pulls in anyone just to feel the material on their suits. He’s straight, and he’s got the finger on everyone. You gotta be careful, Harry.’
Harry guided Colin to the door, resisting the urge to give him a kick in the arse to send him on his way. ‘You know what, Colin? There’s never been a copper, sitting behind a fancy desk or walking the beat, that couldn’t be bought. All you need is the right amount of cash.’