‘Fair point. All right, let’s wait.’
They took their drinks into the living room. Ewan moved to turn on the light again, but Caelan held up a hand. ‘Why don’t we leave them?’
He smiled. ‘You want to surprise Mulligan, don’t you? You want him to think we’re not here.’
‘Except the car’s outside.’
‘I could move it.’ Ewan put down his cup.
‘No, you’ll never find a space.’ She flicked the light switch. ‘Let Mulligan worry about where he’s going to park.’
‘He’ll have a car?’
Caelan scowled. ‘Got to make it look authentic.’
Outside, the street was busy as people returned home from work, those without their own parking area shuffling their cars into anything resembling a space. Caelan checked the time.
‘He’ll be here soon. Shall we have a look at the bedrooms?’
Ewan grinned at her. ‘You’re sharing with Mulligan, aren’t you?’
‘Not unless he drugs me.’ Caelan blinked, remembering Nicky. Ewan said nothing, waiting, but Caelan kept talking. ‘I think we should say that you and I are together.’
He stared. ‘You mean we pretend to be a couple again?’
She smiled at him. ‘Yeah. Is it such an awful thought?’
Ewan was blushing. ‘No, but…’
‘I know it’s not what Penrith suggested, but I’d feel happier. That way, we can watch out for each other, stay close without raising suspicion. It’ll be safer, especially with the people we’re hoping to meet. I’ll still say I’m Mulligan’s cousin.’
‘Makes sense, but I don’t think Mulligan will like it.’
Caelan led the way upstairs. ‘You know what? I don’t care.’
The first bedroom was at the front of the house, large and luxurious. Caelan pulled a face at herself in the huge mirrored wardrobe. The king-size bed was ready to sleep in.
‘Look at the state of it,’ she said. Ewan pursed his lips.
‘Black silk sheets not your thing?’
‘Are they anyone’s? Except Mulligan’s, obviously.’
She turned away. The next room was smaller, containing only a double bed with plain white covers, and a chest of drawers.
‘Why don’t you have this one?’ Ewan asked. She lifted her shoulders.
‘Are you sure? You haven’t seen what the other one’s like yet. It might be Mulligan’s sex dungeon.’
He smiled. ‘Nah, I checked. Single bed, wardrobe. It’ll do.’
As they came down the stairs, headlights lit up the hallway. Caelan slid her hands into her jeans pockets and took a deep, calming breath. Time to put on the mask.
‘Ready?’ she said.
Ewan cleared his throat. ‘Think so.’
They went to the living room window. There were three cars. One approached the house slowly; another stopped at the kerb, while the third held back and waited.
‘The first is our lead vehicle,’ Caelan said. ‘The driver will have stayed just in front of Mulligan all the way, escorting him. The one in the middle, the one that’s stopped, will be Mulligan himself.’
‘And the car behind is making sure he doesn’t try to escape. They’ve made sure he gets here as planned without it being obvious he’s under escort. Clever.’ Ewan nodded.
‘Sometimes we get it right,’ Caelan said. She turned away, tension tightening her throat, not wanting Ewan to witness her bringing herself under control. This would be his first real undercover operation; he would be nervous enough without sensing her anxiety – and she knew he would if she didn’t disguise it. She was the experienced officer and had to take the lead. She also knew she couldn’t risk Mulligan realising she was nervous. She didn’t trust him and knew he would use anything he could to his own advantage. He had nothing to lose.
Her heart rate increased as they waited for him to appear, the familiar hum of adrenalin and apprehension beginning to crackle through her veins. There was always some anxiety; it was part of what made the job so addictive. No turning back now.
They heard a key in the lock, the door being flung open. Mulligan stomped into the room and glared at them.
‘You couldn’t have waited outside? Cheeky bastards, making yourselves at home.’
‘Good evening, James,’ said Caelan.
His smile was mocking. ‘Cousin Victoria. Lovely to see you.’
Caelan stepped closer, getting in his face. ‘Let me make something clear. You behave yourself, as agreed. You do nothing to draw attention to yourself, or to either of us. You know what happens if you do.’
Mulligan turned away, threw himself down on the sofa. ‘You tell tales, and I go back inside. Not going to happen.’
‘As long as we understand each other.’ She folded her arms.
He glared at her. ‘We do. I’ll do as I’m told, as long as you stick to the deal.’
Caelan shrugged. ‘I’m here, aren’t I?’
‘Aye, for now.’ Mulligan spotted the takeaway menus Ewan had left on the windowsill. His face brightened. ‘What’s for dinner?’
8
They ate at the dining room table, Mulligan scooping out rice and tearing into naans, not looking up from his plate.
‘First decent food I’ve had in weeks,’ he said through a mouthful of curry. ‘The stuff you get in prison isn’t fit for pigs.’
‘Anyone would think you were there to be punished,’ Caelan said.
‘Punished?’ Mulligan swallowed. ‘Aye, good one. You’d have us breaking rocks, would you? Hard labour?’
She snapped off a piece of poppadum. ‘It’s none of my business.’
‘Doesn’t stop you getting us locked up, though, does it?’
Caelan said nothing, kept eating. Mulligan shook his head, checked his watch.
‘Right, I’m away for a shower.’ He grinned. ‘You two better get yourselves ready. It’s going to be a late one.’
Caelan looked at him. ‘Where are we going?’
He pushed back his chair, not bothering to clear away his plate or the detritus around it. ‘Club called Stand.’
‘Stand?’ Caelan looked at Ewan, who shook his head. ‘What kind of name’s that?’
‘It’s a new place in Shoreditch. Exclusive. Wouldn’t have expected either of you to have heard of it.’ Mulligan rubbed his eyes. ‘Not that I’m in the mood for clubbing, and my leg still aches like a bastard, but I’ve got to show my face, haven’t I? Let people know I’m back?’
‘That’s the idea,’ Caelan said. ‘You’ve been to this place before? Met people who’ll be of interest to us there?’ She wanted to be sure Mulligan wasn’t just fancying a night out.
He nodded. ‘It’s the kind of venue where you can be introduced to useful people, you get me? Worth your while, I promise.’ A grin. ‘And you can have a dance and get pissed at the same time. Can’t argue with that, can you?’
‘We can’t drink, and neither can you,’ Caelan said. Mulligan scowled at her.
‘All right, Mammy. I can have a couple of beers, they said. Got to make it look realistic, haven’t I? They’ll think I’ve taken holy orders if I’m in there all night drinking lemonade.’
‘If you make it alcohol-free beer, then yeah.’
Mulligan’s frown deepened. ‘Joking, aren’t you?’
‘Tell people you’re still on medication, antibiotics or something. You were shot, remember?’
‘Vaguely.’ He rubbed his thigh, leering at her. ‘Want to see my scar?’
She ignored him. ‘What kind of place is it?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘You said exclusive. Is there a dress code? We don’t want to be stopped at the door while you’re allowed inside.’
Mulligan smirked. ‘Don’t you? Spoilsport.’ He turned away, headed for the hallway. ‘It’s casual.’ Sticking his head back inside the room, he pointed at Ewan. ‘That doesn’t mean patched jeans and a Wales rugby shirt, pal. Smart casual. Make an effort.’
Ewan fl
ushed but said nothing, moving to help Caelan as she began to pile the takeaway cartons together. Mulligan stepped closer and watched, hands on hips.
‘Know your place, don’t you?’ he said.
‘What, the kitchen?’ She spoke mildly, knowing he was trying every trick in the book to wind her up. Mulligan laughed.
‘You reckon I’m that pathetic, that I think women should stay in the kitchen? Be seen but not heard? No. I meant you’re supposed to be working for me, doing as you’re told. Good to see you getting some practice in.’
Caelan rinsed the plastic containers ready for recycling and dumped everything in the bin. ‘Who can we expect to meet at this club?’
‘Few hundred people.’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘I’ve told you, people who might be useful. Wait and see.’
She went to the sink to wash her hands, knowing that pressing him would be pointless. Better to go and see whether he was telling the truth. They had nothing to lose. ‘Forget it.’
Mulligan smiled. ‘You’ve got an hour.’
* * *
The doorman watched them approach, his face blank. Mulligan strolled towards him, hands in pockets. Behind a cordon, a line of shivering people huddled, waiting to see if they would be deemed worthy of entry. Caelan could already hear the music.
Mulligan nodded at the doorman. ‘Good to see you, Rico. Busy tonight.’
Rico didn’t smile. ‘Didn’t expect you to show up. Heard you’d been arrested, thought you were inside.’
‘Inside? Nah. Questioned and released.’ Mulligan licked his lips. ‘In the end they realised they had nothing on me.’
Assuming a puzzled expression, Rico rubbed his chin. ‘They questioned you for six weeks? Shit. Is that even legal?’
Mulligan forced a laugh. ‘Aye, good one, pal. I’ve been in hospital – took a bullet.’
‘I heard.’ Rico’s hands went to his hips and he took a step towards Mulligan. ‘Missed your head, though, didn’t they?’
‘Luckily.’
Rico made a sound to indicate he didn’t agree, and Mulligan nodded towards the door of the club. ‘Just let us in, will you? Too cold out here for me.’
Looking down at his own padded black jacket, jeans and heavy boots, Rico shrugged. ‘Feel sorry for you. Join the line.’
Mulligan gaped at him. ‘But… Listen, pal, I’ve been in here every week, almost every night, for months. My bar bill is probably paying your wages.’
‘And? Like I said, if you want to come in, you need to wait over there.’ Rico folded his arms, already looking over Mulligan’s shoulder. Caelan stepped back, touched Mulligan’s arm.
‘Come on, James. Let’s do as the man says.’
The look Mulligan shot her was pure venom. ‘Vic—’
Rico grinned. ‘Why don’t you do as you’re told, James?’ He made the name sound like an insult.
‘Didn’t you say this place is the best night in London? Let’s just wait.’ Caelan made herself sound enthusiastic. Mulligan clenched his jaw but allowed her to lead him to the back of the queue. They watched as a trio of young women approached Rico and were waved straight inside.
‘Should have worn a shorter skirt,’ Mulligan said to Caelan.
‘With your legs?’ She smirked at him, saw the couple in front of them glance at each other, laughing. Mulligan shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, stamping his feet, hunching his shoulders. ‘Fucking Rico. All about the power. He could have let me in, he usually does. Oh fuck.’ He started, half turning away. Caelan tried to see what had spooked him without looking obvious.
A group of people had surrounded Rico, talking, laughing, bumping fists. There were three women and three men, though one hung back, his eyes fixed on the screen of his phone. Caelan stood still, lowering her voice as the rest of the queue shuffled forward.
‘Do you know them?’
‘Shut up.’ Mulligan’s voice was quiet, tight. He glanced at the man with the phone, closing his eyes for a second.
‘Tell me who he is, or I’ll go and ask him myself,’ Caelan told him.
‘Don’t. I owe him money, all right?’
She glanced at the man again. He didn’t look familiar, but there was no reason he should. ‘How much?’
‘Ten.’ Mulligan kept his face turned away.
‘Thousand?’
‘No, fucking magic beans.’
‘They’re going inside,’ said Ewan. Mulligan turned his head, eyes narrowed.
‘Good. Now you know what he looks like, you can help me avoid him.’
‘And you can tell us who he is,’ Caelan said.
‘All right. He’s called Stefan Harris.’
Caelan made a mental note of the name. ‘And why do you owe him ten grand?’
‘We did a deal. I bought some merchandise, paid half up front, sold it on. Let’s say I forgot to pay the rest. Then…’ He spread his hands. ‘Then I got shot and you know the rest.’
‘What did you buy from him?’
He stared at her. ‘I told you. Merchandise.’
‘Drugs.’
‘No comment.’
Meaning yes. ‘Can’t you just give him his money?’
Mulligan bared his teeth. ‘Are you kidding? I don’t have any money. It’s all been confiscated by your bastard colleagues.’
‘Keep your voice down,’ Caelan told him as they moved forward.
‘Stop asking stupid questions then.’
Caelan let the comment go, nodding towards the doors as they reached the head of the queue. ‘You still want to go in?’
‘Yeah, come on. Fuck him.’ Mulligan raised his chin, straightened his jacket. He marched towards Rico, who stepped back, grinning.
‘Have a good night,’ he said as he waved them past. Caelan saw Mulligan’s shoulders tense, but he kept walking. Seeing Stefan Harris, whoever he was, had obviously rattled him. She hid a smile as he looked around him warily. There was no sign of Harris or his friends, and he seemed to relax.
Caelan paid their entry fees, and they headed towards the thumping music. The club was cavernous, the main dance floor already full. Spotlights arced and soared, illuminating bare brickwork, steel walkways and huddles of people. The place was packed. Mulligan headed for the nearest bar, pushing towards the front of the crowd around it. Caelan leant close to Ewan.
‘We need to stay with him,’ she said. ‘I don’t trust him. He’s going to try to lose us, and if he does, he’ll say it was because it’s so busy in here. Don’t let him out of your sight. Go into the toilets after him if you have to.’
Ewan nodded, and they followed Mulligan to the bar. He had a young woman at his side, his arm around her shoulders, and was already drinking from a bottle of lager. He lifted it in a toast as they reached him.
‘Sláinte,’ he said. ‘This is Beth. She’s a friend of mine.’
Beth gave an awkward smile. ‘We’ve only just met.’
‘Don’t be shy. I bought you a drink, didn’t I?’ Mulligan leered at her.
‘He’s got a wife and three kids at home,’ Caelan said.
Shaking her head, Beth disentangled herself, disappearing into the crowd. Mulligan rounded on Caelan.
‘What did you say that for?’
She moved close to him, grabbing his arm and holding it tight, her mouth almost touching his ear. ‘You’re not here to socialise, and I told you not to drink. This isn’t a game.’
Mulligan turned his head, close enough to kiss her. Caelan forced herself to remain where she was, not allowing him to make her feel uncomfortable. She could smell beer on his breath, the curry he’d eaten.
‘And if I stand here whispering to you, pointing people out, that isn’t going to look suspicious?’ he said. ‘I have to behave normally – talk to my friends, have a beer, maybe a dance. Otherwise this isn’t going to work. Someone will notice, and then we’ll all be in trouble.’
She released his arm, seeing the sense in what he said. People had to
believe Mulligan was free, and not under suspicion. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘We do it your way, for now.’
He moved away, smiled at her as though they were friends. ‘Are you having a drink?’
‘We’ve discussed this.’
Mulligan’s eyebrows danced as he downed the rest of his beer and smacked his lips. ‘Right. Three alcohol-free lagers coming up.’
He moved back to the bar, waving a twenty-pound note. Ewan stepped closer to Caelan.
‘He’s got a point,’ he said.
‘I know.’
‘This isn’t the kind of place I expected.’
Caelan smiled. ‘Too classy?’
‘Well, yeah.’ He glanced around. ‘I know it’s stupid, but I thought it’d be… well, dodgy. People starting fights, making deals. Gangsters in suits, an atmosphere. Like a film.’ They watched a group of laughing women go by, dressed to impress, followed by three men wearing designer shirts and smart trousers. Everyone was well groomed, happy, looked prosperous.
‘We need to be careful,’ Caelan said. ‘Mulligan could be trying to pull a fast one, pretending that coming here is worth our while when all he wants to do is get shit-faced.’
‘Got it. That bloke we saw as we were coming in, though – Stefan Harris? Mulligan seemed terrified of him.’
‘If I owed someone ten grand, I’d want to avoid them too. Maybe I need to find Harris, see what he’s doing here.’ Caelan knew she would need to speak to Ian Penrith about Harris as well as grilling Mulligan about their business dealings, but now wasn’t the time to start digging.
Ewan frowned. ‘Mulligan said he wants to stay away from him.’
‘I’m not asking him to come with me.’
They saw Mulligan heading their way, three beers held close to his chest as he pushed through the crowd.
‘Here we go. Get those down your neck.’ He thrust the bottles towards them, drank deeply from his own. He pulled a face. ‘Well, it’s cold at least.’
Caelan moved away, trying to find a quieter corner where they could talk. Mulligan followed, pouting like a child, casting a longing glance at the dance floor.
‘Do you know who owns this place?’ she asked. Mulligan shook his head.
Time to Go Page 6
