The Old Vengeful

wasn't family, either in the general sense or the specific one, an' Lippy was a great family man—you can still see that in the street markets, and on a Saturday night, they say, when his daughters go out.'

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'His daughters?'

'Yeah—three of 'em . . . They like to see their kids looked after, Lippy's sort . . . and some of the things he fenced, if they weren't hot—like if someone from pound-note country wanted to get rid of the family heirlooms on the quiet—he couldn't bear to get rid of some things so they ended up on his daughters . . . You go into any South London market, an'

look at the women, an' you'll see they've got rings on all five fingers of both hands. They don't really trust banks, those people—they prefer to have their riches about them, on their wives and daughters ... It's one way of looking good, and it's another way of investing your money away from the bleeding tax-man—mother to daughter, an' no questions asked . . . But Danny doesn't come into any of that. . . Although, funnily enough, it's through the family that Danny has got his dirty little hoof into the door—'

'Through the daughters?'

'Naow . . . Lippy's daughters wouldn't look twice at Danny's sort—they're married to accountants and solicitors and schoolteachers, all strictly legitimate an' respectable, even if they are still South London—but he had these two brothers, see . . . an' one of them's okay, in Hatton Gardens, in precious metals—'

'Gold?' inquired Mitchell, almost innocently. 'Coins?'

'Yeah. He could handle gold coins easy enough . . . But the other married a gentile, that's got this no-account step-son, dummy3

Ray Tuck— Raymond Darren Tuck, who's been sucking up to Lippy ever since he found he couldn't do nothing else, because it was too much like hard work . . . An' Ray Tuck's been running Lippy's errands—or was, until Lippy snuffed it

—an' now he's tried to take over Lippy's operation.'

'Tried?' echoed Paul.

'Yes . . . well, of course, all he's got is the bad end, because the good ends don't want to know. Because Lippy's nearest and dearest criminal colleagues and clients have quickly sussed Ray Tuck out as a johnnie-cum- lately, an' they don't trust 'im. So they've decided to go elsewhere, an' all Ray Tuck's ended up with is the rough end of the business, that Lippy himself didn't want, but had to be polite to so as to afford the little niceties of life—I don't mean the really rough end, like Oakenshaw wanting to dispose of something—Lippy wouldn't have touched that. . . but . . . the dodgy end, where the risks are. So . . . the word is ... sure as eggs is eggs, Ray Tuck is going to get himself nicked—or worse—'

'Worse?'

'Right. Because what Tower Bridge nick thinks, it's only a question whether we get him—or Danny Kahn does.' Del smiled at Elizabeth. 'And, finally to answer your reiterated question, Miss Loftus . . . Danny Kahn's a bright kid who could have gone far, but he decided to make his pile the easy way . . . 'Fact, I knew his dad, who was a runner before the Betting and Gaming Act came in ... and as a result of his running he got this betting shop . . . an' Danny, who's got a dummy3

few brains—which Ray Tuck hasn't—has managed to increase the empire, with a few snooker halls an' a bit of the other on the side, that can't be mentioned in polite company, an' even a bit of protection with his present West Indian partner, who is apparently just about due for a nasty accident owing to a sudden rush of ambition to the head . . . because Danny's real hard, and got a certain amount of bottle—again, which Ray Tuck hasn't got ... So all Ray Tuck's got now is debts and an expensive girl-friend, both of which also belong to Danny, who doesn't care much about the girl, but does care about his money.'

'So Danny could take out a contract with Novikov?' said Audley.

'Danny could . . . and Danny would, if the price was right, and if Novikov undertook to get any stray reforming middle class Trots off his back, sure—Danny wasn't on the Murmansk run—'

'But Novikov wouldn't,' said Paul. 'Not if there was a sub-contract involved—that would be ... too dodgy?' He looked at Del.

'It's a mistake to think in certainties,' said Audley mildly.

'Novikov would do whatever he thought would work.'

'But it didn't work,' said Paul. 'The infallible David Audley messed it up.'

Audley's spectacles glinted in the candlelight. 'Now you're being what my dear wife would call 'devious', Paul. And in dummy3

the sense that she undoubtedly means, I would advise against that. Just keep an open mind, that's all.' He turned to Del Andrew. 'And what is your interpretation of all this?'

Del stared at Audley thoughtfully for a moment. 'Well, as long as you allow that it is only an interpretation . . . because this is as far as I've got, even under starter's orders—'

'An interpretation only, Chief Inspector.'

'Okay.' Del switched to Elizabeth first. 'Your dad shifted gear, not cash—'

'Gear?'

'Valuables. Objets d'art—anything from the Crown Jewels to a pretty picture of a Stubbs gee-gee, or the family silver.

Because Lippy could handle that, and divvy up untraceable money for it, over a reasonable period. And he wouldn't have gypped your dad, his old captain. Point One.'

Audley pushed the port decanter towards him.

'Thank you . . . Point Two: Ray Tuck would gyp anyone. But he doesn't have the resources to do it, or the bottle to do it if it was tough, or the time—and most of all the time, because time is what he hasn't got . . . Even