'Has Rodriguez met Donovan?'
'I'm not sure if they've met here in London, but I've seen a report from the Customs Drugs Liaison Officer in Miami who says they've been seen together in the Caribbean a couple of times, latterly in St. Kitts.'
'What's your take on it?' asked the detective.
'There's something in the wind, I don't think the nephew's here shopping, but they're both old hands at this. I doubt they'll do anything stupid. Whatever they're up to, it must be major to get one of the Rodriguez family out of South America. Stay in touch, yeah?'
'Will do. And thanks for the tip. This is going to do me no harm at all.'
Hathaway replaced the receiver. He began to bite his nails as he reread Fullerton's report.
Donovan was in a black cab on the way to his sister's house when one of his phones rang. It was Underwood, whispering as if he feared he might be overheard.
'They're on to you,' said the chief superintendent.
Donovan gritted his teeth. He knew that it was always going to be a matter of time before the authorities knew that he was back in the UK, but he had hoped he could have remained incognito for a few more days, at least until he'd got things sorted with Robbie.
'Who's they?' he asked.
'Drugs. National Crime Squad. Customs. Uncle Tom Cob-bly and all. Congratulations, you're Tango One again.'
'No need for you to sound so bloody pleased about it.'
'What are you going to do?'
'I've got to get a passport for Robbie. I'm not leaving him here on his own.'
'Has your missus been in touch?'
'No,' said Donovan.
'Any joy finding them?'
'I wouldn't hold your breath. They're going to be well hidden if they know what's good for them. I've got them flagged at points of entry, but you know as well as I do how porous our borders are. That's if they even decide to come back.'
'Keep looking, yeah? Any idea who fingered me?'
'Came through Drugs, that's all I know. Anyone on your case?'
'I've not seen anyone.'
'Yeah, well, keep your eyes peeled because it's all hands to the pumps. They're going to be crawling over you.'
'I'm clean, though, right? Nothing current?'
'Not now you-know-who's no longer in the picture. You don't fuck about, do you?'
'He knew what he was getting into. No use crying over spilt milk.'
'Just hope you don't ever get pissed off at me,' said the detective.
'Yeah,' said Donovan.
'Me too.'
Donovan cut the connection. If he was once again Tango One, there was no point in hiding any more. Everything he did would have to be in plain sight.
The taxi pulled up in front of Laura's house. Donovan paid the driver and walked up to the front door. He rang the doorbell and heard Robbie shouting excitedly from inside.
Robbie flung the door open.
'Dad!'
Donovan picked him up and hugged him.
'Hiya, Robbie, been good, have you?'
'Of course. Where were you last night?'
'I got tied up. Business.'
'Can we go home?'
Donovan put his son down and took him inside. Laura was at the kitchen door, wiping her hands on a tea towel.
'You eaten, Den?' she asked.
'Starving, Sis,' said Donovan.
'It's only spag bol and salad.'
'Bring it on,' said Donovan and followed her through to the kitchen. Laura's daughters Jenny and Julie were sitting at a long table with glasses of orange juice in front of them.
'Mark not back?'
'No,' said Laura, busying herself over the oven.
'Working late.'
Donovan sat down at the table and Robbie rushed to sit next to him.
'How was your day?' asked Donovan.
Robbie pulled a face.
'Boring. Aunty Laura said I have to go to school soon.'
'That's right, as soon as I've sorted things out with your headmistress.' Donovan ruffled his hair.
'Only another seven years.' He laughed.
'That's about what you'd get for armed robbery, you know.'
'Den!' admonished his sister.
'And no time off for good behaviour.'
Laura put down plates of spaghetti bolognaise and salad in front of them. The children devoured their pasta while Donovan raised his wine glass to toast his sister.
'Great grub, Sis. Thanks. And thanks for taking care of Robbie.'
Laura winked at Donovan and clinked her glass against his.
'Are we going home tonight, Dad?' asked Robbie.
'Not tonight, kid.'
Robbie put down his fork.
'Why not? Why can't we go home?'
'Because I've got things to do at night, that's why.'
That's not fair!'
'Who said life was fair?'
'You always say that.'
'Because it's true.'
'I want to go home,' said Robbie petulantly.
'That's a nice thing to say in front of your Aunty Laura,' said Donovan.
'It's okay, Den,' said Laura.
'I know what he means.'
'I know exactly what he means,' snapped Donovan, 'and he's going to have to learn to do what he's told. He doesn't know how lucky he is.'
'You always say that too,' said Robbie, close to tears.
'Yeah, well, according to you I spend my whole fucking life repeating myself, but that doesn't mean that what I say isn't right. Your aunty Laura and me never had a house like this when we were kids. Never had food like you get. And our stepdad used to kick the shit out of us if we answered back to him. Am I right, Laura?'
Laura looked away, not wanting to get drawn into the argument.
'Dad, I just want to be in my own house, that's all.'
Donovan took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.
'I know you do, Robbie, but it's difficult just now. Can't you stay here for a few days? Please.'
'And then we can go home?'
'We'll see.'
Robbie wiped his eyes. He pushed his plate away, most of the food untouched.
'Eat your dinner,' said Donovan.
