‘Thought you didn’t like her.’
‘I didn’t. But that doesn’t mean… ’ Another sigh. ‘I saved her life once.’
‘She said.’
‘Why couldn’t I have done it again?’
Don turned to him. ‘Now don’t start all that.’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘All that blaming yourself. That leads to a very dark place, believe me. And you don’t want to go there.’
‘There was nothing you could have done. She knew that what she was doing was risky. She shouldn’t have done it.’
‘No.’ Still staring. ‘But… why?’ Another sigh. ‘I don’t know. Maybe she couldn’t believe one of her work colleagues was a murderer either.’
‘Maybe. We’ll never know.’
Phil looked up. ‘What about the other woman? Donna Warren, was that her name?’
From where he stood, Don looked through into the kitchen. ‘Don’t think she’s here.’ He turned to Phil. ‘You don’t suppose she did this, do you?’
‘Do you?’
Don didn’t answer.
‘We both know who we’ve got in mind for this.’ Phil scoped the room once more, trying not to dwell on Rose’s body. ‘Can’t see this book anywhere.’
‘How did she describe it?’ said Don.
‘A cheap blue exercise book. Let’s look upstairs.’
They went slowly up the stairs. Careful not to touch the handrails or walls. Don following Phil’s indentations on the stair carpet. They went into the main bedroom.
‘Looks like there’s been a fight in here.’
Don scanned the room. ‘But no book.’
Phil turned to him. ‘You know what I think? We’re not going to find it. It’s not here.’
‘I agree. We’d better go.’
They turned round, made their way downstairs without touching anything once more. At the bottom, Don turned to Phil.
‘I think you-know-who must have it.’
Phil gave a grim smile. ‘You-know-who? Have we jumped into Harry Potter land now?’
Don frowned. ‘What?’
‘Never mind. You’re right. Glass’ll have it by now. We’d better-’
‘Is this what you’re looking for, gentlemen?’
They both turned, startled by the voice. Two men, suited and tied, were standing in the kitchen doorway. One was holding up a cheap blue exercise book in a plastic evidence bag. The other was holding a gun.
The one holding the gun spoke. ‘I think we’d better go somewhere a bit more private, don’t you?’
Phil shrugged. ‘Whatever you say.’
‘Move.’
They moved.
94
Mickey walked back on to the footbridge overlooking Balkerne Hill. It felt like more than a day since he had last been here. The air felt colder. The sky heavier, darker. The cars beneath seemed to be moving faster, louder. Everything seemed heightened to Mickey.
Once again, Stuart was waiting for him. His leather jacket pulled tight around his skinny frame, cigarette clamped in the corner of his mouth, sucking down smoke seemingly to keep himself warm.
He turned as soon as Mickey approached. Looked anxious. Scared.
‘So tell me what’s happened,’ said Mickey, coming to stand alongside him.
‘It was there in the text I sent you,’ said Stuart, sucking the final dregs of life out of his roll-up, flicking the butt over the railing.
‘Pretend I never got it,’ said Mickey.
Stuart frowned. ‘Did you or didn’t you?’
‘Just pretend.’
Stuart nodded, pointed to Mickey as if about to impart wisdom. ‘Ah, now, y’see, that’s why I never commit anything to paper. I mean, that’s bad enough, but electronics is worse, innit? I mean, you never know who’s listenin’ in. Someone could be listenin’ in to us now, couldn’t they?’
Mickey frowned, lost. ‘What? Who?’
Stuart pointed up to the clouds. ‘Up there. Satellites. They can beam right in from space with pinpoint accuracy, listen in to what we’re sayin’. Take photos an’ all. They can.’
‘Right. So what did this text say?’
Stuart sighed, shook his head. A teacher exasperated that his thick pupil had failed to grasp the lesson. ‘That I’d found out somethin’ about this Weaver guy. Like you asked me to.’
‘What did you find out?’
‘He runs this import-export company with this Lithuanian guy. An’ we all know what import-export means, don’t we?’
‘Covers a multitude,’ said Mickey.
‘Yeah. An’ none of it legal.’
‘What Lithuanian guy?’
Stuart screwed up his eyes, tried to think. ‘Bul… Bol… ’
‘Balchunas?’ said Mickey. ‘Is that the name?’
Stuart clicked his fingers. ‘Yeah, that’s him. Balchunas. Yeah. That’s the fella.’
‘And that’s it? That’s the big news?’
‘Course it’s not. Don’t be stupid. I heard they got a big shipment comin’ in tonight.’
‘Of what? Drugs?’
Stuart shrugged. ‘Dunno. Prob’ly. He’s into all sorts of iffy stuff, what I heard. But just a big shipment. That’s all I… my sources could tell me.’
‘And it was definitely tonight?’
‘Yeah.’ He rubbed his stubbly chin. ‘Worth a lot of money, I reckon.’
‘Thought you didn’t know what was in it?’
Stuart looked confused. ‘What? The shipment? No, I meant me. My information, what I’ve just told you. That’s what’s worth a lot of money.’ He shook his head as if he was dealing with an idiot.
‘So where’s this shipment coming in to? Did you hear that?’
‘Harwich. Well, the ship’s comin’ in there. Then they’re takin’ it to their lock-up. Well, I say lock-up. It’s this place they got outside of Harwich, along the coast. Huge, it is. Where their base of operations is.’
Mickey took out his notepad, started writing this down.
‘Can’t miss it,’ said Stuart. ‘Full of those metal containers, the ones that come off the ships and get put on to lorries, know what I mean? Piled up high, they are. Huge. Like a big tin city.’
‘And that’s definitely tonight.’ A statement requiring clarification, not a question.
‘Definitely. Stake my life on it.’ He reconsidered. ‘Well, sure as I can be. From what I heard. You know what these things are like, don’t you? You know what I mean.’
‘What about time? Did you hear anything about that?’
Stuart raised his hands as if in surrender. He made an incredulous face. ‘Come on, Mr Philips, do I look like I carry the shipping timetable on me?’
‘Take an educated guess.’
