exceptions.
Trusting this will not adversely affect our relationship.
Yours regrettably, FORD.
Porter croaked:
‘He’s going to kill Trevor.’
And stormed out the door. Brant caught him at his car, grabbed his arm, said:
‘I’ll drive.’
Trevor’s place was just off Clapham Common and Brant got there in record time. They didn’t speak. Porter gnawed at his thumb till he drew blood. When they got there, Porter was out of the car and inside the building, Brant behind him.
He began to pound on a door and Brant wanted to ask:
‘He didn’t give you a key?’
But maybe not the time to discuss the dynamics of their affair. No answer. Brant said:
‘Stand back.’
And launched himself, taking the door down in one. They piled into the tiny space, a bed in the corner. A figure rose up, going:
‘What the fuck?’
Porter went:
‘Trevor, are you okay?’
Before Trevor could answer, another head surfaced from the blankets and asked:
‘Are we in trouble?’
Without another word, Porter turned and walked out. Brant stared at the two, then said:
‘Nice morning for it.’
That’s the way I do business. I step on the gas and come straight at you. My late husband, Omer Plunkett? He used to say, ‘Sherri never puts no Vaseline on it.’
11
Andrews marched right up to Falls, went:
‘Did you have anything to do with what happened to McDonald?’
Falls gave her the look, waited, then:
‘You get to ask this just one time.’
Andrews didn’t like the expression on Falls’s face, but she was committed now so went:
‘Did you?’
‘No.’
Andrews wasn’t sure how to proceed. Falls waited then began to turn, paused, moved right into Andrews’s face, asked:
‘And if I’d said yes, what were you going to do? If I’d helped you out, you were going to do what exactly?’
Then she moved away, heading for the door, when Brant caught her up, said:
‘Terrific, you’re doing exactly like I wanted, but one thing, could you keep it for civilians, you don’t need to intimidate the good guys.’
Falls laughed, said:
‘You’re the one who once said there are no good guys.’
He considered that, then:
‘You don’t want to put too much stock in what I say. Oh, and could you lighten up on Porter Nash. He’s had a rough day, might be nice if you cut him some slack.’
Falls got outside, she was feeling fine and wasn’t about to let anyone ruin it. The truth was, she was getting a kick out of Brant’s assignment, sticking it to people. It was a rush, behaving like you thought they were total crap. She might continue to do so even if they caught the psycho. Coming to work, she’d stopped in her local mini-mart for the paper and a guy was holding everybody up with a Lotto entry.
She’d gone:
‘Hey, moron, you want to show some thought for people who work for a bloody living?’
He was stunned. He’d moved right out of the way. Then, parking her car, a woman had tried to beat her to the place and she’d rolled down the window, shouted:
You want to mess with a policewoman?’
She didn’t.
Falls reckoned it called for a celebration. She’d go to some pub she hadn’t tried before and put the staff through their paces. She felt a pounding in her blood at the thought of it and wondered if aggression wasn’t as hot as a line of coke.
12
Brant was actually buying a drink for Roberts, put his hand in his pocket and laid out money. Roberts asked:
‘What’s the celebration?’
‘We’re going to be on the case, the Manners thing. Porter is going to ask the Super for us to be assigned.’
‘Why? Why on earth would he share it? It’s a trophy gig.’
Brant took a huge draw of his pint, gargled, then sat back, said:
‘It just got personal.’
Roberts figured Brant would explain in his own good time so simply waited and heard:
‘He got a letter threatening his current squeeze and I was there to hold his hand, so bingo, he wants us on board.’
Roberts digested this, then asked:
‘How did the psycho get his address, and why change his MO to write to Porter instead of the Super?’
Brant took another swig, wiped his mouth, said:
‘He didn’t.’
‘What?’
‘He didn’t.’
‘Didn’t what?’
‘Write the letter.’
‘How the hell do you know?’
Then he saw the smile and as realization dawned, he said:
‘Oh no, tell me you didn’t. Jeez, Brant, you wrote the letter.’
Brant had finished his pint, asked:
‘We having another or what?’
Falls had given the barman some serious grief and only stayed for one drink. As she left, she shot the guy a
