‘Yes.’
Morgan slipped off his jacket, walked ahead of her into the kitchen and opened the fridge.
‘Omelette OK?’
Dolly nodded. She felt a real warmth toward him, but she still didn’t really know how far she could trust him. How far she could go. She made an effort to relax, following him round the kitchen as he busied himself whisking the eggs.
‘I do need you to do something for me, actually,’ she said finally. She took a deep breath. ‘There was a robbery this afternoon. It was me that gave the tip-off, and... there was a girl. Shirley, Shirley Miller. I need to know if she’s been arrested. She had nothing to do with it, she just happened to be there, and...’
Morgan listened to her talk as he heated butter in the pan, trying not to show any reaction.
‘Would you know where she is? Could you find out for me?’
Morgan stood over the stove, the omelette mixture in a bowl.
‘I know where they’ve taken her, yes.’
Dolly moved closer. Her hands were twitching, and it was obvious to him she was trying desperately not to show how tense she really was.
‘Where?’
Morgan wanted to shock her, to see her reaction. He poured the omelette mixture into the pan, where it started sizzling. Then, shaking the pan, he said just one word: ‘Morgue.’
Dolly said nothing. Then she began to retch, heaving uncontrollably, her whole body shaking.
Jackie Rawlins was still waiting for Harvey Rintle to call her. She had put his bike and holdall in his apartment as instructed, and he’d promised to ring her at five. Now it was gone midnight. The kids had really been giving her a hard time. She had let them watch a video of Werewolf of London, then they wanted to see another. Her youngest had cheekily said that as the werewolf had been so frightening, he had to watch something funny or he wouldn’t be able to sleep. They’d sat through some weird comedy about a talking VW car that Jackie couldn’t make head nor tail of. Then, at long last, they had gone to bed. She was just about to follow when the back door opened. She guessed it was Harvey — he often slipped in that way. She turned, smiling.
Harry Rawlins closed the door behind him, locked it, then turned to her with a smile.
‘Didn’t have the change to ring, sweetheart, so thought I’d come in person.’
Jackie, hands on hips, looked at him coldly. ‘Thought you might appear eventually.’
He gave her a puzzled look.
‘Dolly’s called here twice asking for you. Said she’d keep on trying, but I told her you...’ Jackie stopped mid-sentence when she caught sight of Harry’s right hand. It was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief.
‘Called here? Dolly?’
Jackie realized he hadn’t been expecting a call from Dolly, and almost chuckled. Harry began to unwrap his hand.
‘What you done?’
He held it out. She could see the deep teeth marks.
‘Mad dog went for me. You got some Dettol?’
Jackie noticed there was more blood on Harry’s jacket. He was taking it off, making himself at home.
‘I don’t want you here, Harry. I got kids. I don’t want any trouble.’
Harry ignored her and began to take off his shirt. He took a passport and wallet out of his jacket pocket and put them on the table.
‘Just need to get cleaned up, Jackie, then I’m off. You got any cash about?’
Jackie laughed. ‘If you’re after what you gave Harvey, you’ve got another think coming.’ She found a bowl, and then fetched some Dettol and a bandage.
Harry now had his shirt off. He put his hand in the water. ‘Christ almighty!’ He winced.
‘You’ve been bleedin’ like a pig. It’s all over you.’
Harry said nothing. He wasn’t about to tell her whose blood it was.
‘I won’t be staying long. I just need a change of clothes. And I need your car. Then I’m going to catch a plane.’
‘I don’t believe it! She’s going with you, is she? Dolly? After what you done to her, I don’t believe it.’
Harry studied his hand, the blood still flowing from the punctures. They would stay with him for life, in memory of Micky Tesco. Harry remembered something that Micky had said. Could Dolly and the black girl somehow have got their hands on the jewels? Surely not. But what Dolly did have was money, and a lot of it. Perhaps Jackie’s idea wasn’t completely mad. If Dolly called again... The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea.
Jackie went upstairs to get some of Harry’s cousin Eddie’s clothes. She knew they’d fit. Most of poor Eddie’s stuff had been Harry’s cast-offs in the first place.
‘You got Eddie’s shavin’ gear handy?’
Jackie threw the clothes at him and walked out. She wasn’t about to let him upstairs. As Jackie passed the boys’ bedroom on the way to the bathroom, she looked in. They were sprawled on the bunk bed, the duvets hanging off. She gently covered them. The youngest, cheeky as he was during the day, looked like an innocent little cherub at night, clutching an old toy submarine. She eased it out of his hands and tucked them under the duvet. She wouldn’t let Harry anywhere near her kids, especially this one, Jason. She’d often wondered if Eddie had spotted it, but he hadn’t. But then Eddie couldn’t see anything right under his nose. But as Jason grew older, it became more obvious to her: he was Harry’s double, right down to his dark, brooding eyes. It almost amused her, gave her at least something over the bastard; she’d got the thing he’d most wanted. Poor old Dolly had tried to give him a son and lost four, all boys — lost them at four months. Perhaps that was why she’d loved that wretched little dog so much — a child substitute. It was Jackie’s secret, but there, sleeping, was Harry Rawlins’ son, ten years old now, and one hell of a handful.
Jackie went downstairs and handed over Eddie’s shaving gear. The brush looked as if it had been used to clean the floor; it more than likely had, by that little bugger Jason.
‘Bit peckish,’ he said. ‘You think you could fix me somethin’ to eat?’
Jackie sighed. ‘You go right after, yeah? I’ll feed you and clothe you, but that’s it.’
As she went into the kitchen, she glanced back. He was staring at his face in the mirror. He caught her watching him and gave her a wink. Shivers went up and down her. His expression at that moment was identical to her son’s.
She opened the fridge. ‘I’ve got a quiche Lorraine and some salad. You want some quiche?’
Morgan had listened without interrupting as Dolly had told him everything, right from the moment they had begun watching Harry’s lock-up. She left out any mention of their part in the aftermath, and made no mention of the jewels. But she didn’t lie.
Morgan sighed. He wanted more than anything to believe her, and she did sound as if she was telling the truth. When he asked why she hadn’t gone to the police, she smiled sarcastically.
‘I gave them the times and the name of every man I knew on it, and they still didn’t catch him. That’s why.’
‘Do you know where he is?’ he asked.
She bit her lip. ‘I’m not sure, but there’s one place he might go, one place...’
Then somehow it all came tumbling out. How Jackie and her husband had had an affair eleven years ago. She’d known about it but ignored it, like she’d ignored a lot of things, lots of ‘bits’ he’d had on the side. Although she’d never said anything, Jackie and Eddie had never been invited to her home after that, and everybody except poor old Eddie had sussed out why; Eddie just thought that Dolly didn’t like him. Harry had never mentioned Jackie’s name in front of Dolly again. But maybe if he needed a place to lie low... just maybe he would go to Jackie.
‘I’ve tried calling her,’ she said.