Miss Take - Chapter 13 (6283)

Chapter 13 (6283)

Niles got Connor dressed, breakfasted and ready to go outside. Kelly and Lavius waited patiently in the sauna like heat of the snug little kitchen.

‘I’ll take him out for a while. Down to the Gyle to look at the toys or something,’ he said as he came into the kitchen to get his keys. As he passed Kelly, he smiled and then put out his hand to smooth down some of her errant hair.

‘This one never used to cause us any trouble,’ mused Makepeace. ‘Can you believe that Sergeant Lavius? Me and Jean have fostered dozens of kids over the years. Kelly was so quiet and serious, she did all her chores and never answered back. The perfect child.’

‘Don’t let us keep you, old man,’ said Kelly in embarrassment.

‘How times change,’ went on Makepeace, completely ignoring her. ‘Dare I ask what is going on?’

Lavius looked up from his tea. ‘Well, Kelly is very kindly helping me with my enquires. It’s all very serious I’m afraid and probably best left to just the two of us for now.’

‘Fair enough son,’ said Niles as he got his coat on.

Connor, squealing with excitement bolted out the front door, calling on Niles to keep up. Cold air wafted into the kitchen until after a minute or so later Niles also left, closing the door and stopping the draft. The heating was on full and in a few moments the kitchen was stiflingly warm again.

 

Once he had left, Lavius said, ‘Niles must have been a good dad.’

‘It was him and Jean back when I was here. They divorced. It was after I’d left home though.’

‘It must have been tough, even though…’ Corum let the sentence tail off.

For a moment Kelly considered asking some leading questions to get information on his father, but her curiosity as to what news he had brought was too much.

‘So come on,’ she demanded. ‘Spill it.’

‘Right,’ answered Lavius. ‘Have you heard of Reggie Cunningham? He’s a politician.’

‘No.’

‘Really?’ asked Lavius. ‘He’s known as “Scotland’s Farage”. A real right-wing nut job. Used to be a Tory minister – front bench for a while – before falling from grace. No bells ringing?’

‘Never heard of him, sorry, I don’t follow politics,’ shrugged Kelly. ‘So, it’s him?’

‘A number of things strongly suggested that he’s our man. I looked into the Nostrum case. Reggie was on the list of suspects. He had a cast iron alibi for the night of the murder, but that makes sense if it was Price that he sent to do it. He also knows Price; they were in the army together and were in the same unit for a while. There are even a few pictures of them together, but well – as a politician he does shake a lot of hands I suppose. The thing that persuades me the most though is that just after Price shot me, he said something like “Reggie will get me flights to Brazil”. If you hadn’t Jackie Chan’ed him at that point, I’d be dead and that’s where he’d probably be.’

‘I don’t know how you guys work,’ said Kelly once she had sat down. ‘Just go arrest him?’

Lavius sighed. ‘He’s well connected, it would be a huge deal to arrest a former cabinet minister. I’ve not even taken it to the Chief yet. Every cop in Edinburgh is looking for Price now, it would mean… I don’t even know. I’ve no actual evidence, just conjecture. I think I’ll have to go have a little chat with Reggie first.’

Lavius wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. Kelly got up and opened a window, climbing up onto the counter to do so. Corum finished his tea and put the cup in the sink.

Kelly was thinking. Was any of this true or was it all to deflect attention away from his father? Had he just picked Reggie’s name out of a hat? And unpleasant enough character that everyone would believe capable of having prostitutes and drug dealers murdered. Perhaps.

She could check if there was as connection between Price and Cunningham at least. While Lavius talked, she took her phone out of her pocket.

‘I’m going around tomorrow afternoon,’ went on Lavius. ‘He has a massive place called Almond Castle between Linlithgow and Falkirk. Then we’ll see. The more I think about it, the more I think it’s him, but short of a confession I’ve got nothing.’

‘Forget him then? Concentrate on Price?’ said Kelly, head down, checking her phone.

‘If we catch Price alive, he might finger Cunningham and he might not. The accusation of a psychotic murderer wouldn’t necessarily mean much in court though. If Reggie is the mastermind behind it all then he can’t be allowed to get away with it.’

Kelly put her phone down. The part about Price and Cunningham being in the army together was true enough. Reggie’s Wikipedia page was pretty large and it appeared that he was indeed, a bit of a shit.

‘So, you’re telling me all this why?’ she asked. ‘You want me to go do stuff that the dibble can’t do?’

‘No, no,’ replied Corum anxiously. ‘Listen, stay out of trouble Kelly. You’re in far too deep as it is. You must have got a real scare last night. Just take it easy for now. After I’ve talked to Cunningham, I’ll be back in touch.’

A chill went down Kelly’s spine and he’s going to sell me out, was the thought that had caused it. He’s pinning everything onto this Cunningham character and somehow it involves me. Maybe not, if I keep on being helpful. As she felt her panic rising, she reached into her other trouser pocket and pulled out Price’s phone.

‘I have this,’ she said as she put it down on the table.

‘What is it?’

‘Price’s phone,’ she replied as she pushed it towards him. ‘I palmed it before I left the guest house. It’s a cheap burner, it’s not even locked.’

‘Jesus,’ muttered Lavius as he picked it up then switched it on. ‘Old people. He probably couldn’t figure out how to do it.’

Lavius scrolled through the call history. ‘Messages back and forth to Lenny. A few calls to an unknown number the day before. You’ve not tried to call it?’

‘No.’

‘Don’t,’ said Lavius. ‘Hold onto this for now. I need to think about this.’

Lavius left and Kelly sat in Makepeace’s kitchen thinking for a long time. Had Corum been hinting to her to break into Cunningham’s house? Was any of it real at all? Was he planning to sell her out and had the revelation about her having Price’s phone bought her any time?

She picked up her own phone again and read more about Cunningham. If Lavius was really planning to use her to frame someone then he had picked a really good victim. Reggie Cunningham was fifty-six, a former army officer and Scottish MP who had been kicked out of the cabinet ten years ago and then out of the Conservative Party completely just three years ago.

Now he was a right-wing agitator, and currently the head of a white supremacist organisation called the Scottish Aryan Brotherhood which claimed the grand total of four hundred members. He was a millionaire, and owned a lot of property in Scotland, not least of which was Almond Castle.

It was literally a castle too, the central building was a five-story tower built in the 15^th century, with various wings added over the years. It was a massive house and as she looked over the many pictures with an expert eye, she judged it to be a tempting target for a cat burglar, but also very secure. There were easier places to get into for much the same level of reward. If she was looking for somewhere to generate some wealth from then this place wasn’t it. It was probably full of Nazi’s too.

Still, if she was planning to burgle it, the ever-helpful internet even had complete plans of the castle available. It had formerly been owned by an American rock star Kelly had never heard off and some of the interior shots showed some very gaudy décor. Full page spreads in Hello magazine showed all the main rooms, with every rock star cliché the heart could ever desire on full display – guitars on the wall, life sized statues of Elvis, piano key staircases, the whole shebang. At no point had the designer stopped to aske themselves, is this too much? And if they did, then the answer was always in the negative. Kelly, as a minor expert in stately homes knew that sometimes a place could be so kitsch and over the top that it began to be almost stylish again. Almond Castle’s interior seemed to go beyond even that, to the place of nightmares. Even the toilets were made into the shapes of musical instruments like saxophones and tubas. There were no photos of the interior from since the Cunningham’s had moved in and it was possible that it had been redecorated although it would have been a mammoth task.

The recent pictures of Cunningham certainly showed he was fat and ugly, and his Wikipedia entry revealed that he was left-handed. Did that mean anything anymore? Was she just being paranoid and this really was the man that had ordered Elaine Nostrum and Mack the Knife killed? Paranoia was good though, and her ample supply of it had contributed a good deal to her continuing ability to walk and breath. After he morning of research though, she was less sure that Lavius was using Cunningham, and possibly her too, as a way of keeping Sir Horace out of prison.

 

***

Lavius was nervous, driving alone out west towards Forfar. He was his own car and didn’t even have his radio with him. He wanted to make this visit as friendly and non-threatening as possible, and until he had any kind of notion on how things were going to play out when he started pushing, completely off the books.

He hadn’t lied to Kelly, but he hadn’t told the entire truth either. He knew Reggie Cunningham personally. Not well, but back when he had been a child, Reggie had been one of his father’s friends. Indeed, the two families had known each other since before he was born. When Cunningham had moved his politics alarmingly far to the right, Sir Horace had cut ties with him - or rather he had tried to.

Corum’s father was kind at heart and had given away most of the family fortune, usually to charities or causes that he liked, and usually after he’d had a drink. He was not good with money and after the steadying influence of his wife was gone it had got much worse. Five grand here, ten grand there, until one day he was finally flat broke.

A few years ago, and Corum and his brother had known noting about this, Sir Horace had reached the position of having to sell the house or go bankrupt. Cunningham had helped him out with a loan. Corum had no idea for how much, he’d guess it to be as little as ten thousand pounds, but it was certainly something that Cunningham had used as a hold over Corum’s father ever since.

Even as a boy, Corum had not liked Reggie. He was cruel, moody and arrogant. He’d treat the staff at Gosford terribly and Corum and his brothers would always hide from him if they could. When in his company they would either receive harsh comments on their appearance and up-bringing which they were expected to endure without comment or he would act like they were his best friends, joking and playing with them, but always in a nasty sort of way, and always with the danger that he would suddenly turn on them if they returned any of his banter. His own children were famous bedwetters, home-schooled and timid, forever trembling under the feet of their tyrannical father. Corum had heard one of them had killed himself at university, and that instead of calming him down it had made Reggie Cunningham worse. Corum hadn’t seen Reggie, his wife or his surviving daughter in something like five years. He wasn’t looking forward to regaining their acquaintance.

Neither was he sure what tone to take with Cunningham when he got there. He had sounded pleasant on the phone when Corum had arranged the visit, but his childish fear of this horrible old man still gnawed at him, known as he did how easily Cunningham could change from being convivial and charming to being angry and insulting.

Still, there were more important matters at hand than the dangers of meeting people that you secretly despised. Getting his father out of whatever mess he was in was one thing, catching a murderer was altogether another.

It was all beginning to fit together in Corum’s head now. Cunningham had undoubtably been calling Sir Horace to find a place to hide Price. This had been how Cunningham had treated the Lavius household for all the years after Corum’s mother had died. A lot of people came and went in Gosford Hall after Corum’s her death, but Reggie had been fairly regular. Cunningham found the Hall to be a convenient place to bring primarily his mistresses, but also on occasion, a place to conduct dodgy business. Back when he had been a cabinet minister, he had conducted several deals with suspicious middle eastern characters right there in his father’s library, deals that as far as Corum knew, he had pulled off successfully, as the newspapers and never since reported on them. Corum had just been a teenager back then and away at university, but he shuddered to think of the things that may had gone on and what would happen if it was ever found out what Cunningham had been up to in the library all those times, while Sir Horace politely went to have a wee nip with the gamekeepers.

His father was a soft touch, but even he had drawn the line at Nazis. When Reggie started going down that road, he was forced to find somewhere else to hold his meetings. The story Corum had heard was that Cunningham and his men had wanted to hang a swastika up at the main door and that Sir Horace had ripped it down then threatened to set the dogs on the lot of them. Sir Horace’s father, Corum’s grandfather had been killed at Dunkirk during the war.

Corum sighed. Not that having a dead relative was the only reason someone wouldn’t want Nazi’s in the house of course. His missed Yoyo. He usually worked alone, not least because not everything he did was strictly by the book, but now he wished she was coming along to see Reggie with him. She would have put the old racist in his place, that was sure, while Corum stood their quivering like a frightened school boy. Well, maybe it was just as well he was alone, he considered, so he could keep things unofficial. Just poke the bear and see what happens for now, no need to tell the Chief at this time. And if this gave him a bit of time to work out the best way to keep his father’s name out of it, then that was just an added bonus.

As soon as Cunningham became a person of interest to the police, the investigation would be assigned to someone else as the Chief would see Corum’s connection to him as a conflict of interest. She’d be bloody right too, muttered Lavius to himself as he rolled up the long driveway to Almond Castle, of course she’d be right. Her entire career would be hanging in the balance as soon as Cunningham became a subject of the investigation and any impropriety at all would be pounced on by the press. What a mess.

Well, he was here now, he thought, no turning back. If he got into any hot water with the Chief because of this, he would just sweet talk his way out of it as he always did, or so he hoped. He parked the car by the main door and glanced up at the main entrance through the windshield. As he did so the front door opened and a flat-headed goon stepped out. He looked ever inch like a right-wing thug, dressed in black, with an earpiece no less and dark glasses. Play acting at being secret service or something, Corum could only guess, God what an idiot he looked. Out of place like a nightclub bouncer stood at the front door of Downton Abbey.

‘This is private property’, stated the goon.

‘Friend of the family, and also the police, all right Tonto?’ said Lavius, as he manoeuvred his crutch out of the car. He then walked past the man and up to the door, not even bothering to show his warrant card.

‘Who is that, Kyle?’ said a female voice from within.

‘It’s me, Corum Lavius, Auntie Bella,’ he called in reply as he hobbled up the steps into the main hall.

‘Oh, my dear boy!’ exclaimed the owner of the voice as she greeted him. She was a tall, prim lady in her fifties, elegantly dressed and well made up. Her hair was died blonde and in a stylish bob. She kissed him on both cheeks and he caught a flash of smoker’s teeth as she said, ‘what have they done to you?’

‘Oh, nothing,’ he replied, patting his crutch. ‘Just fell over putting my socks on.’

‘Nonsense!’ she exclaimed. ‘Don’t you think I read the news? You Lavius boys, always so cheeky and full of fun.’

Then she sighed and Corum realised she was thinking of her own dead son. To change the subject, he looked around at the hall.

‘This place is quite something, Auntie,’ he said. ‘You’ve kept the rock star décor then?’

He could see that on top of all the already very gaudy interior design, preparations for a Halloween Party were being made. The musical notation motif of the hall, with the statues of golden jazz dancers lining the walls on either side was overlaid with fake cobwebs, jack-o-lanterns and skeletons.

‘Oh yes!’ laughed Bella. ‘I still don’t know where to begin with this place. They Halloween stuff is not normally here of course.’

She sighed, took Corum by the arm and lead him down the hall. ‘It’s so nice to see you again. After all these years. It’s been so hard, you’ve no idea. You heard about Michael?’

‘Yes…’ replied Corum sombrely.

‘I thought I couldn’t go on living,’ she said. ‘And sometimes I wonder still, how I can. This is my first party in years, we used to have so many parties. I’ve insisted. After so much pain and misery, a little light, a little fun, is that too much to ask?’

‘No, Auntie,’ agreed Corum, feeling rather awkward.

‘We’ve not changed anything about the place since we got here because we can’t agree what to change it too. I want something modern; he wants… I can’t even describe it, gothic I suppose. Kehlsteinhaus Chic? He has no idea, but I’m not letting him turn my home into Hitler’s bloody bunker. You remember how much I hate him Corum dear?’ Corum tried to think of a reply, but she went on before he could muster up a reply. ‘Well I hate him even more now. He’s been even more impossible lately, and I think he’s up to his old tricks again. Old tricks and some new tricks too probably, the old bastard.’

As they had talked, they’d moved through to the rear grounds of the Castle and over a cobbled courtyard. The sun was out, but the air was cool. Bella stopped to light a cigarette and offered one to Corum, which he accepted. They stood in the sun beside a long flowerbed and smoked.

‘That’s what I’m here about Auntie,’ admitted Corum, blowing smoke through his nose. ‘I think him and dad are…’

‘I don’t want to know!’ said Bella with exaggerated despair, holding up a hand to stop him. ‘Oh, I’m not mad at you at all. Quite the opposite, I’m so glad to see you Corum. Such a nice boy. Not like all these young louts Reggie has about the place now. It’s like Butlins, but with swastikas. I don’t know how I go on, I really don’t. The party is on Thursday, will you come? Oh, please come! It would be so nice to have someone around from the old days.’

‘Well, I…’

‘Oh, please come, Corum,’ she insisted. ‘Do you have a young lady at the moment?’

‘Well…’ Corum wondered for a moment if he should tell Bella about Kelly and if he did bring her, what sort of destruction she would reign down on any white supremacist that dared to take her on.

Bella smiled at him and reached out to pinch his arm. ‘Such a nice boy. Whoever she is, she’s a lucky lady.’

 

Once they had finished their cigarettes, she took his arm once more and led him up a set of three stone steps to the out building that Reggie used as his office.

‘I have delivered you safe and sound to the old bastard,’ she quipped. ‘Come and see me before you go, I’ll still be in the main hall hanging decorations.’

Corum took a deep breath and prepared to enter the bear’s den. Give me strength, mum, he thought to himself. His mother had spent many a long night comforting Aunt Bella after one of Reggie’s many indiscretions had come to light. He entered the building, walked a few steps down a hall and then into the main room. He’s decked this place out like a bunker, thought Corum as he entered. There were windows, but they were shuttered and the room was lit by four strip lights. There was a large table in the middle with honest to God enlarged maps on them like Reggie was planning an invasion or something, which he had to walk around to get to Cunningham’s cluttered desk.

The man himself, short, corpulent and red faced, rose to greet him.

‘Corum, lad,’ he said, pumping Corum’s hand in a strong handshake. ‘I’m hiding out down here, from all her carry on for this fucking party she’s having. My god, I heard you had been shot on the news. I passed on my condolences to your father of course.’

Reggie pointed Corum to an armchair beside the desk. ‘Sit down lad, sit down. How long has it been? The years just roll in, don’t they? But let me guess, this has something to do with your father?’

‘Yes,’ admitted Corum. ‘In part.’

‘Look,’ said Cunningham, pouring a drink for himself from a cabinet in the corner. ‘I don’t know what that old rascal has been telling you, but it’s nothing important really at all. I just wanted to have a meeting with – well, it’s not important who, but let’s just say a gentleman from Russia – and your father’s place is so much more discreet than here. That old bitch watches my every move, you know. Do you remember the good old days? I remember some of your father’s benders that went on for weeks. When you boys were just wee things as well, all running around under our feet. What you must have made of it all.’

‘Made me the man I am today,’ said Lavius truthfully.

‘I dare say,’ replied Cunningham, missing the irony in Corum’s tone. ‘Is that all then? Listen, it doesn’t matter, I won’t impose myself, but if it makes any difference, it wasn’t a political assignation. Just a little business. I could put some of it your father’s way if he’s still interested. Drink? Or are you on duty officer?’

Cunningham gave a forced laugh and Corum raised a hand. ‘I’m driving.’

‘You still seem concerned,’ said Cunningham. ‘Is there anything else?’

Corum left a pregnant silence for a while, trying to frame his words carefully. ‘Do you remember Clarence Price from your army days?’

‘So, you are here on duty then?’ replied Cunningham smoothly. ‘It’s true that we were in the regiment at the same time, but I don’t remember him. He was a sergeant after all, and there were plenty of them around. I was a major in the HQ battalion.’

Corum studied Cunningham closely. In truth he was struggling to think of what to say next, but Cunningham took his gaze to be accusatory and spluttered on. ‘From what I gather from reading the newspapers, he was in the regiment for twelve years. He must have met hundreds of men during that time, are you questioning all of them?’

‘No,’ said Corum. ‘Since I was here, that was all, I just thought I’d ask.’

‘Oh, I see!’ sighed Reggie, with such obvious relief that Corum knew, in that moment, that the old bastard was up to his neck in it. Sweat was beading out on his forehead and his cheeks were getting even redder. Everything about his appearance belied his casual tone.

 ‘Well, I’m sorry I have nothing for you son,’ Reggie apologised smoothly. ‘I never knew him, but I hope you catch him of course, after what he did to you.’

Corum stood up, checked his phone, then made an unnecessarily long deal about arranging his crutch as he got ready to leave.

The mobile phone on Reggie’s desk started to buzz and vibrate. Reggie looked at it in horror.

‘Not going to answer that?’ asked Corum as Cunningham stood frozen to the spot.

‘Oh…’ stumbled Cunningham. ‘It’s not important.’

‘You’ve not looked at the number,’ said Corum leaning over the desk.

Reggie quickly reached over and picked up the phone, then slammed it into the top drawer of his desk where it continued to buzz in accusation.

‘Answer it.’

‘I said,’ replied Cunningham through gritted teeth. ‘It’s not important.’

Corum leaned in towards Cunningham, looking him in the eye. ‘You are better off talking to me, Reggie. The worst that I can do is put you in jail. There are much more dangerous people than me who want to get their hands on the killers of Mack the Knife.’

Cunningham was pale and furious. ‘Is that a threat?’

‘Not at all,’ said Lavius. ‘Just a reality. Playing racist boy scouts is one thing, messing with the Edinburgh gangland is another. Take it from me.’

‘They wouldn’t dare,’ bristled Cunningham. ‘I’ve a dozen lads all billeted in the old stable block. Some of them are ex-army, they know a thing or two. We’re not scared of a few Gypo scumbags here, let me tell you.’

‘Well, let me tell you about one of them,’ said Corum with a thin smile, ‘One you should be scared of. He’s called the Squirrel on account of being a nutter. He’s an ace cat burglar, he can get in anywhere; it doesn’t matter how strong your defences are. He’ll find a gap, however small, a chink your armour, and when he does, he’s got a lifetime of martial arts training that means he could snap you like a twig. We’ve been after him for years, but he’s just too clever. Big houses like this are his speciality, they are never as secure as you think they are.’

‘Goodbye, Sergeant,’ snapped Cunningham, emphasising every syllable of the word “Sergeant” to mean it as an insult.

‘You’ve got my number,’ growled Lavius as he left, stamping towards the door on his crutch.

***

 Kelly waited in one of the tourist pubs under Edinburgh Castle. She never came to places like this, they were always too busy and expensive, but for whatever reason Lavius had wanted to meet her here.

She was dressed up, as if for a night out, but had just been drinking diet cokes. She was tense and on edge. She’d long since stopped worrying about Price or the criminal underworld of Edinburgh. She felt that she could handle whatever they threw at her, and besides, they were probably too busy right now fighting amongst themselves. What she was really worried about was Corum Lavius. He held her fate in his hands. One word from him and her life was over. There was nothing she could think of to fix the situation other than to flee the country, but since loosing a considerable part of her fortune she was loath to do so, especially when the reward for Price’s head was so tantalisingly large. She suspected she wasn’t clever enough, though, to catch Price, claim the reward and stay out of prison. Lavius had more or less treated her fairly, especially after she had tricked him, but her hatred of cops was so deep that she could never trust him. Even if she wanted to, the fact was, he had skin in the game, he was involved in it all somehow and he was using her to further the ends of himself and his family.

The only thing worse than a cop was a bent cop. She thought she knew him well enough now to know that he would happily give false testimony to save his father, and if she believed that then it also followed that he would certainly sacrifice her, Kelly, if he had to.

It was Sunday night, so the pub wasn’t too busy. Corum waved at her as he entered, and gave her a kiss on the cheek when he reached the bar.

‘Bit forward,’ she muttered, very much not in the mood for it.

‘Drink?’ he asked, ignoring her scowl.

‘Just a coke thanks,’ she replied.

‘You don’t drink at all? I can’t tempt you?’

She curled her lip at him, then went to sit down at an empty booth. He shrugged, and in a few moments joined her, with a coke, a pint and two bags of crisps.

‘Did it work then?’ asked Kelly, her curiosity eventually overriding her sullenness.

‘Oh, like a charm!’ exclaimed Lavius as he brought his pint to his lips. He took a sip then went on. ‘He had the phone on his desk. He jumped out of his skin when it rang. Then he got all macho about it and as good as confessed.’

‘So, what happens now?’

‘I’m going to have to think it over,’ mumbled Lavius as he opened his crisps. ‘I’ll talk to the Chief tomorrow. Come up with something.’

‘What?’ gasped Kelly. ‘What’s stopping you? Arrest him.’

‘It’s not as easy as that Kelly,’ said Lavius as he checked over her shoulder, looking towards the door. ‘Just let the police do their work.’

‘For fuck’s sake!’ cursed Kelly. ‘What a joke.’

‘What?’ hissed back Lavius, his eyes wide.

‘What do you mean what?’ she snapped back.

‘You should be happy. One step closer to you getting your life back. Well, the non-criminal part of it anyway.’

‘I should be happy?’ she snarled. ‘I should throw this drink all over you.’

Lavius seemed genuinely hurt. ‘What have I done? I thought we would be celebrating here.’

Kelly, despite all her previous resolutions to the contrary, found she could no longer keep quiet about what she knew about Sir Horace Lavius any longer.

‘I know ok,’ she whispered harshly. ‘I know about your dad, ok?’

‘What?’

‘I heard your dad talk to Price. The same night he called you.’

‘What are you talking about?’ asked Lavius. ‘My dad never talked to Price; he knows nothing about him. The night he called me he had just had a call from Reggie.’

‘Well, whoever it was,’ replied Kelly. ‘Your dad is part of it and you are trying to protect him and you’ll sell me down the river to do it. I don’t even blame you, family is family, but don’t sit there all smug and pleased with yourself. Just admit it!’

Lavius leaned back and breathed out. ‘Wow. That’s a lot to take in. Right well, firstly, yes, my dad knows Reggie. I know Reggie. Well done Sherlock, but don’t tell me what I’m thinking. I’m still processing everything. And secondly, did you break into Gosford?’

‘Yes, so?’ admitted Kelly. ‘I’m a burglar. What are you going to do about it?’

He held up his hands. ‘Just slow down ok, little Miss Angry. Reggie has used and abused dad’s hospitality for years. Back in January I thought he’d just brought round some of his neo-Nazi pals. Turns out it was bloody Mack the Knife. I literally just put all this together a few days ago. And now, God only knows what Reggie was up to when he called dad that night. I think he may have been wanting to stash Price there.’

‘Why should I believe any of this? For all I know you are setting this Cunningham guy up. For all I know it was your dad that did it all.’

‘Kelly!’ scolded Lavius. ‘Reggie and Price know each other, remember? Old pals from the army. My dad owes Reggie money, so he’s been… Jesus, even when I was a kid, he used to bring his tarts round to the house. Come on, Kelly!’

Kelly could see Lavius was upset, he was looking at her now with big sad eyes and she felt like she’d just kicked a puppy.

‘Say I do believe you then,’ said Kelly, beginning to give a little. ‘You are still going to save your dad over me. When they catch Price, and Reggie goes down, he’ll try to take your father down with him. At that point, you’ll give me up.’

‘I’ll handle my dad, don’t worry about that,’ said Corum. ‘He’s done nothing wrong anyway, just a bad judge of character, but that’s not news to anyone that knows him. It’s you that I’m sticking my neck out over.’

‘How?’ asked Kelly, unimpressed.

‘The Chief is all over me to bring you in. The full CHIS, make you an official informant. I can hold them off for a while, but they know that I know this mystery man called Gavin Newgate. They know that Gavin was there when Price killed Soups and the other the other two. They want you so badly, they are threatening to sack me over it.’

If Lavius was expecting sympathy he got none.

‘Cry me a river, copper,’ said Kelly who then took a swig of her drink. ‘Why don’t you arrest me then if it’s making your life so hard? Unless you think I’m more use to you running free, of course?’

‘Well,’ he replied softly, turning his half-finished pint round and round. ‘Partly. That and stubbornness, I suppose. They used to give me a lot of leeway in my unit, but not now. Mainly though…’

He looked up at her, and seeing the grim expression on her face seemed to reconsider what he was about to say.

‘Yeah,’ he muttered. ‘You are much more useful to me on the loose. Like today’s stunt with the phone.’

As they had been speaking, she had been slowly softening towards him, won over by his gentleness and pitiable expression, but his last words fired a mighty rage within her. ‘That’s exactly it, isn’t it? You want me to break the law for you. You own personal thief to run all your illegal errands, anything to protect yourself and your family. And when you are finished with me, you hand me right over.’

‘No!’ hissed Lavius, leaning forward. ‘You’ve got it all wrong!’

Kelly stood up, getting ready to leave, knowing she was as good as signing her own arrest warrant, but not caring. ‘You are all the same, you lot. The idle rich and the landed gentry, all part of the same club. All part of the same club that people like me can’t join and will never be welcome in. All scratching each other’s backs and looking out for each other. I’m glad I rob people like you, and like your dad and Cunningham and all the others, because I’m taking back what’s mine. I started as a teenager, just wanting to thumb my nose at the dibble, but… I was so angry. I am still angry; I am eaten up with rage – so much rage that I can never have a normal life and it was you that did this to me. People like you put my mother into a wheelchair, a wheelchair that she finally died in after years of pain. Can you even imagine what that was like for me? Watching my mother die in increments? I was so little I used to think that the bullet was still in her, travelling around inside, killing her bit by bit. You can’t imagine it though can you? Raised in a gilded cage, surrounded by flunkies, never having to lift a finger or worry about anything. I bet when your mother died you barely felt a thing.’

She caught herself at the last sentence, realising she had gone too far. Lavius looked at her, silent and crestfallen. She stormed out of the pub, hating herself as she did it. Hating her own bull-headedness and stupidity. Hating the fact that she was so angry over a man. She half-expected, hoped even, that he would come after her, but as a smoker outside opened the pub door for her, she got a glimpse of Corum reflected in the glass. He was still sitting at the table, watching her go, looking sad and lost.