‘Yeah? How’s that?’
‘You tell me the truth.’
‘I can’t do that. You know I can’t.’
Bliss nodded. Smiled. Then narrowed his gaze. ‘I know you can’t. Of course I do. But I also know you will, eventually. If you want to endure the suffering I’ll put you through first, let’s get on with it. I’m game.’
‘You can’t do that. You’re a copper. I know you are. There’s no way you can threaten me like that and get away with it.’
‘I can not only make the threat, George – I can also follow up on it. You know why? Because I’m not stupid enough to get caught. Christine doesn’t know who I am. If we’re both gone by the time she gets back, she won’t know we left together, nor where you are.’
‘I’ll tell everyone after you let me go.’
Bliss lowered his voice. ‘Oh, George. Who said anything about letting you go?’ He smiled. ‘On the other hand, you can save all that shit and tell me everything I need to know right now.’
‘What kind of choice is that?’ Moss asked, throwing up his hands.
Bliss shrugged. ‘No choice at all, George. But either way, you’d better tell me how this is going to go, because it’s getting late, I’m tired, I need a drink, and I’ve had fuck all to eat. That combination makes me even more irritable than usual. So… what’s it going to be? I can manage another hour. Can you?’
Thirty-Seven
Bliss awoke to a grey morning and a sky that looked as forlorn as he felt. Low, dark clouds ploughed weary furrows across the sky, looking eager to unleash their cargo. It felt to him as if a couple of them detached to hover above his head while he took a shower. As he soaped away the last remaining residues of a restless night, he contemplated a couple of conversations he’d had the previous evening.
The first was with Bishop, who himself had received a call from DC Ansari. The search for the Parkinson family remained ongoing; there had been no sign of either Nicola or her children. Tracking their financial movements was the next stage, but authorisation could not be obtained until the morning.
‘Any word on who the contracted hit was placed with?’ Bliss had asked.
‘None. We’d only be speculating at this stage, what with Drake having gone outside his own organisation. I had Glen check the NCA system for Drake’s personal finances, which they’ve been monitoring since we first brought him in. No sign of him directing money anywhere over the past twenty-four hours.’
‘We have to assume he has cash squirrelled away somewhere, then. And somebody he trusts with access to it whenever only cash will do. We need to think hard about who that might be and come up with a name.’
‘I agree,’ Bishop said. ‘I don’t know of any hitman who wouldn’t demand at least half up front. Money is going to change hands soon, that’s for sure.’
‘And when it does, we need to be prepared. Any joy with tracking down the Dark Desires server?’
‘Do we even need it now? The hope was it’d tell us who was running the show, but I think we all agree it was Nicola Parkinson and her vermin brood.’
Bliss nodded, though he knew Bishop could not see it. ‘True. On the other hand, knowing its precise location may lead us to an address we don’t have listed for her or the Drake empire. A fresh address gives us renewed hope of finding something concrete. If we let ourselves get too carried away with the chase, we might forget to pick up the evidence wherever it can be found.’
‘Of course. You’re absolutely right. I’ll get on it first thing in the morning.’
Up next was Chandler; for some reason she hadn’t been able to turn in for the night without rubbing more salt into his wounds. ‘Did it at least help with your aches and pains?’ she asked after she’d finished laughing.
‘Actually, it did. Very much so. I felt so loose afterwards, though it’s all starting to tighten up again. Trish is good at what she does.’
‘She said you were a good sport. She’s glad you didn’t whip your towel off and tell her to spread the oil thickly.’
Bliss put his head back. The memory left a huge smile on his face. ‘So am I. That would have been a sight for sore eyes, if you’d burst into the room at that point.’
‘Oh, believe me, the sore eyes would’ve come afterwards. I’d have poked them out with a stick.’
They’d laughed together for a while longer, before turning to Phoenix. They discussed the case for twenty minutes without getting any further, before saying goodnight.
As he got dressed, Bliss’s thoughts drifted back to George Moss. The man was every bit as vulnerable as he’d assumed, caving in at the mere thought of suffering the kind of pain Bliss had described. Fearing the repercussions, he’d demanded protection. Bliss assured him of it, though he had no intention of going out of his way to provide any once they had the man’s new statement in evidence.
‘I… I gave N… Neil an alibi,’ Moss had stuttered. His voice cracked and dry, he seemed broken by the admission. ‘He turned up unexpectedly that night at the place where I was living. He was all pumped up and red in the face.
