Being summoned in such a terse way by the head of the Crow Family ought to have put the fear of Feathers into Lydia. Instead, it made her regress to teenage Lydia and she had a full internal battle with the urge to simply not turn up. She wasn’t an idiot, though. And Uncle Charlie always brought out her old nature, her primary instinct was to fight, not flight. Fleet would probably smile at the term ‘old nature’, he would probably say she hadn’t grown out of it one little bit. She could feel her whole body relaxing, curving into a smile just at the thought of Fleet. She banished him from her mind as she walked up the path to Charlie’s front door. Not the time, Lydia.
The door was open and Lydia knew to walk in and close it behind her. She headed straight for the living room, figuring that Charlie would have chosen a formal room to match his mood. He was standing in front of the empty fireplace, hands by his sides and the blankest, coldest expression Lydia had ever seen on his face. She had glimpsed Charlie’s shark-side before, but she realised, in this moment, that she had never seen it in full force.
‘I can explain,’ Lydia said. She hadn’t planned to say the words and she snapped her mouth shut as soon as they escaped.
There was a silence in which they regarded one another. The tattoos on Charlie’s arms were writhing and Lydia made sure she didn’t look directly at them. Her left hand was clenched around her coin, but the fingers of her right hand stretched wide, pointing toward the earth. The taste of feathers was thick in the air and Lydia was having to use all of her concentration not to take a step backward. She knew if she did, she would keep on moving until she was far away from Charlie’s stare. She felt a tingling in her fingers which travelled up her wrists and arms to her shoulders. Another urge was creeping in, the desire to stretch her arms wide, like wings. She kept them by her sides with enormous effort. Unbidden, Maddie appeared in her mind, and she heard her voice whispering into her ear. ‘You can fly.’
The staring contest was still going on. ‘In your own time.’ Charlie’s voice was low and calm. Lydia saw the slight widening of his eyes and realised that he hadn’t intended to speak. The terror ebbed a little. The creature in front of her became, marginally, familiar. Her Uncle Charlie emerging and the capital-letter Head of The Family receding.
‘What were you thinking?’ He said at last. ‘Barging in on Alejandro Silver.’
‘I thought we were allies?’
‘There’s being friendly allies when we’re up against the Pearls or the bloody Foxes, and then there’s being the kind of pals who can go wandering into their place of business and asking questions about their clients. Hell Hawk, Lydia, I thought you were smarter than that.’
Lydia was still using half of her brain to stop her arms from raising from her sides. She was proud of herself for having a steady voice when she replied. ‘I’m an investigator. I was just doing my job.’
‘Bollocks you were,’ Charlie said. ‘You were asking about Robert Sharp and you have no business doing so. He’s not your client.’
‘No, he’s dead,’ Lydia retorted.
‘Lyds,’ Charlie said. He gave a little shake of his head. ‘You’ve got to be sensible. I know you don’t like it, but you’re a Crow. That means you can’t start a pissing match with the Silvers. You just can’t.’
‘Even if I think they’re guilty of something.’
Charlie blew out an exasperated sigh. ‘Of course they’re guilty. But this Sharp guy, he’s nothing to do with us.’
‘He’s not one of us, you mean?’
Charlie shrugged. ‘I’m just saying we’re not going to war over him. I read the papers, they’re saying it was a professional hit. That means he was into something which drew attention. You get a visit from a professional, likelihood is you did something to deserve it.’
Lydia felt a spark of anger. ‘Now who’s talking bollocks? You know that’s nowhere near true.’
The tattoos had stopped moving and Lydia was relieved that Charlie seemed to have calmed down. She had no wish to ruin his forgiving mood and she didn’t want to reveal any more than was strictly necessary to Charlie, but there was absolutely nobody else she could ask. ‘There’s something else.’
Charlie stilled.
‘You know I went into Alejandro’s private office? There was this cup.’
‘Cup?’
‘Yeah. Silver. Big. Like a football trophy but it looked really old. there were flowers and stuff moulded on it and engraving, too, but I didn’t see it up close.’
Charlie moved from the fireplace, crossing the room to stand inches from Lydia. An explosion of movement. His gaze drilled into Lydia’s eyes, searching for the truth. ‘That’s impossible.’
‘What is it?’
Charlie’s olive skin looked suddenly sallow in the sunlight. ‘It doesn’t make any sense. It can’t-’
Lydia swallowed her impatience and waited.
‘It sounds like the Silver Family Cup,’ Charlie said, refocusing on Lydia. ‘Which it can’t be. That ought to be in the British Museum.’
‘So, Alejandro took it back? Can he do that?’ Lydia knew that part of the truce had involved the Families donating their treasures to the British Museum. It had been a show of unity and of openness. A symbolic gesture to demonstrate that the old ways were now relics and curiosities, academic artefacts and nothing more. The Fox Family hadn’t agreed, of course. They had spread their devious paws wide and shrugged, saying that they didn’t own anything museum-worthy. The Pearls had donated a pearly King coat, and a heavy gold necklace dripping with creamy yellow pearls, fat as peas.
‘That’s not it...’ Charlie had taken his phone from his pocket, he looked at it with a blank expression and put it on the table. ‘Hell Hawk. I can’t believe... Maybe it’s a replica?’
‘Why does it matter?’
‘The cup was stolen from the museum forty years ago. Alejandro didn’t get it back from the curators. I guess he found who nicked it and got it back from them.’
‘Ah.’
‘Yeah,’ Charlie was still looking into the distance, his brow furrowed. He rubbed a hand across his face.
Lydia wasn’t sure how to ask the question without alerting Charlie to the very thing she wanted to keep secret. She felt as if she had a great big flashing letters above her head, spilling her inner thoughts. ‘Is the cup just symbolic?’
‘How’d you mean?’
‘I get that it’s important to the Silvers. It’s a Family symbol. It’s their heritage. I was just wondering whether it was more than that?’
Charlie shrugged. ‘You know the stories.’
‘Not really,’ Lydia said. ‘Dad didn’t talk about the Silvers much.’
‘Well,’ Charlie said. ‘What did Alejandro say?’
‘Nothing. I didn’t ask.’
‘Smart girl.’ Charlie looked around, as if he was checking they were still alone. ‘You know the Silvers have a facility with language?’
Lydia nodded.
‘And you know that back in the day they were very persuasive.’
‘A Silver could make you think that black was white, up was down, left was right.’
‘And that if you stepped off the side of a tall building you would float down to earth like a feather, land on your feet with a big smile.’
Lydia shuddered. The idea of having her own will taken like that was terrifying. The thought that a person could make you think things, make you do things because you believed them utterly, shook her at bone deep level.
‘Well, there were other rumours, too. That they had an affinity for silver. Could imbue the substance with, I don’t know, some sort of ability or effect. Enchant it, I guess is the best way to put it.’
Enchanted silver. Of course. Lydia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She remembered the waves of sickness which had broken over her again and again. And the silver knight she had been chasing. ‘Theoretically speaking, if an object was enchanted like that, could it alter a person’s behaviour? Or their personality?’
Charlie shrugged. ‘Yeah. Seems like that would be the least of it. Even if an object wasn’t enchanted but somebody believed it was, believed it had power, that could be enough to change their behaviour.’
Like the Crows and the other Families. It didn’t matter that their power was mostly a memory, people still believed enough to give them respect. Or a wide berth.
‘How do Crows feel about silver?’
‘The family? Well, we’ve been allies for a long time. You know that.’
‘Not the people. The metal.’
‘Did you feel something?’
‘No,’ Lydia lied. ‘Just that I was near a Silver.’
For a moment Lydia thought Charlie could detect her dishonesty, but his frown was for something else.
‘Speaking of that,’ Charlie said. ‘I was going to bring someone round this evening. After the cafe is closed.’
‘You want me to identify them?’
‘It won’t be until late. Eleven-ish.’
Lydia did not want to start a precedent of being at Charlie’s beck and call. But he was Charlie Crow. And this favour might be exactly why he had reigned in his anger over her visit to Alejandro.
‘I know you might have to rearrange social plans,’ Charlie was saying. ‘Or are you working? Staking out some cheating husband?’
‘Not tonight,’ Lydia said.
‘It won’t take long,’ Charlie said.
‘Good.’
‘Anything else you want to tell me?’
‘Like what?’ Lydia wasn’t falling for that.
Charlie smiled fondly. ‘That’s the way, Lyds.’
* * *
The air had cooled off after the rainstorm and Lydia pulled on running gear. At the park, she did slow laps, while the cases swirled in her mind. Robert Sharp had been given a silver statue by a company called JRB. Yas Bishop, employee of JRB, had handled the statue and had since been killed. Lydia wanted more information on JRB but had hit brick walls. Stopping at a bench to stretch, Lydia realised something; she couldn’t do this alone. And to get proper help from Fleet, she was going to have start being honest with him. Before the terror of that realisation could immobilise her vocal chords, she hit the speed dial.
‘You know that knight statue?’
‘Weird greeting,’ Fleet said. ‘The antique? You still think it’s significant?’
Lydia took a deep breath. ‘I swear there is something strange about it. And the place Yas Bishop bought it from has disappeared.’
There was a short pause. Then Fleet said: ‘Disappeared?’
‘Shut up shop. Like it was never there.’
‘It’s an empty shop, now, or the actual physical space has vanished?’
‘Are you laughing at me?’
‘No. I’m trying to get clarity.’
‘Clarity on my madness.’
‘I did not say that.’
‘I want to examine it,’ Lydia said. She did not want to say I want to hold it and see if I can sense something weird in its energy. Like a Silver Family vibe. ‘If nothing else, it’s a known link between the two victims.’
‘Family might have been allowed in to box up his possessions. Or the cleaning crew. I’ll ask Ian.’
He rang off and Lydia resumed stretching. She was just thinking about whether to run a bit more while she waited for Fleet to call back when he did. ‘No statue,’ Fleet said.
‘Weird greeting,’ Lydia said.
‘Hilarious,’ Fleet said, and she could hear the smile in voice. ‘Sharp didn’t have family in the country who were willing to come and clear out. They paid a company to do it and they took an inventory of his possessions. I’m looking at it now and there’s no statue listed.’
‘Someone is tidying up,’ Lydia said. ‘I should have taken it when I had the chance.’
‘No,’ Fleet said. ‘You shouldn’t have stolen the valuable item from the murder victim’s house. I can’t believe I have to say it.’
Lydia had been walking briskly, but she stopped. ‘The point is, we don’t know where it is, now.’ And I can’t test it.
‘What do you think you would discover by examining it? You got a valuation from that shop, already.’
Lydia focused on the ground while she hesitated. Was she really going to say this to Fleet? ‘You know Sharp changed behaviour? Before he was killed?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘And Yas was really spooked and anxious when I called her. Then she tried to break into my flat. I know we don’t know much about her personality before, but that sounds pretty erratic. What if it was the statue which made them both, I don’t know, experience an altered state?’
‘So you want to examine the statue for its special crazy-making properties.’
‘Exactly. I was going to show Uncle Charlie. See if there was something-’
‘But it might have affected you. Or Charlie.’
Lydia shrugged, her eyes on a group of teenagers walking across the park, their hoods up. ‘I would have been careful.’
‘Well it’s a moot point. Thank God.’
‘Wait,’ Lydia hearing real concern in Fleet’s tone. ‘You’re serious. You would really be worried about a magical statue?’ Feathers. She had used the ‘magic’ word.
‘You’re worried, I’m worried,’ Fleet said. ‘And besides, you don’t police Camberwell for this long without accepting a few things. And seeing a few things. Things that you can’t always explain but you’d damn sure better be careful of.’
‘So what do we do, now?’
There was a short silence on the line. ‘I need to tell Ian.’ Fleet sounded almost apologetic. ‘I need to think of a way of doing that that doesn’t involve you, but... I will manage it.’
‘You should tell him to speak to Alejandro Silver.’
‘Because the statue is silver?’
‘That. But mainly because their clients, JRB, were looking after Sharp. And Yas Bishop worked for JRB.’
‘That’s good to know.’
There was another pause. ‘But?’ Lydia prompted.
‘MIT won’t be able to question the top man in one of the fiercest law firms in the city without solid evidence. Especially not considering that same man plays golf with the Deputy Commissioner. It’s just not going to happen.’
* * *
Charlie arrived at The Fork at ten forty-five. As promised, he wasn’t alone. The woman he was towing had braided hair in an unnatural shade of pale orange and a grey Adidas tracksuit which was either retro cool or just old. She didn’t look pleased to be attending the party, and Lydia could see fear behind her careful mask of indifference.
‘Meet Candy,’ Charlie said. ‘Not her real name.’
‘Hi, Candy,’ Lydia said. ‘You want a cup of coffee?’
Candy spat a wad of chewing gum on the floor in response.
Charlie heaved a sigh. ‘So?’ He said, looking at Lydia.
‘I ain’t done nothing. This is fuckin’ outrageous. You’ve got no right.’ Candy’s words were a stream of disjointed sentences, peppered with more swear words than Lydia used in a year. And she was pretty proud of her own ability to curse.
‘Now?’ Lydia was surprised he was being so open about her ability. She grabbed a paper napkin from a nearby table and used it to scoop up the gum.
‘None of us are getting any younger.’
‘I need a favour,’ Lydia said, raising her voice slightly over Candy’s continued tirade. ‘In return.’
Charlie was gripping Candy around her bicep. Her arm looked like a stick in his gigantic hand. If he wanted truth from Candy, Lydia had no doubt he had the means to get it. On the other hand, it was perfectly possible that Candy didn’t know what she was. She could tell Charlie her truth and still be feeding him a lie. Lydia wrapped the gum carefully, held it out.
Charlie took the small package and tucked it into the nearest pocket of Candy’s tracksuit. He barely glanced at her, black eyes on Lydia. ‘What favour?’
‘A name,’ Lydi
a said. ‘And a cordial introduction.’
‘Fine,’ Charlie said. He was wearing a dark jacket, but Lydia could almost sense the tattoos moving beneath it. Candy seemed to, too, she was shrinking away from him and the tirade had slowed to a trickle and reduced considerably in volume. ‘No... Fuckin’... Right.’
Lydia hesitated.
‘So?’ Charlie said. ‘Chop chop. We’ve got a deal.’
‘What’s she done?’
Charlie smiled and Lydia felt the skin on the back of her neck go cold. ‘You want to get involved?’
‘No,’ Lydia said. She hesitated for a second more and then said: ‘No power. No family connection.’
‘Nothing at all?’
‘Nothing.’
‘I’m a Pearlie,’ Candy said, panic clear in her voice. ‘She’s a fucking liar. I’m a Pearlie. My mother was a Pearl. I’m one. I swear to god.’
‘Pearls swear to the sea,’ Charlie said, ‘everyone knows that.’
He dragged Candy to the door, ready to leave. Out of The Fork and away from Lydia. No longer her problem. Just the way she wanted.
Hell Hawk.
‘Wait,’ Lydia took a couple of steps, put a hand on Charlie’s other arm.
The look he gave her was a challenge. And it was excitement, too. And greed.
‘Don’t hurt her.’ Lydia knew she was playing into his hand in some unknown way, but she also didn’t know how to avoid it. This was the problem with her family. The only way to be sure you were out was to be out completely. Aberdeen, or preferably the moon. Anything less and they just pulled you in.
‘What do you care?’ Charlie said. ‘You’re out. Henry fixed that.’
‘Well, you’ve made me part of this,’ Lydia gestured to Candy. ‘And I’m running a legit business, here. Above board. I can’t be involved in criminal activity.’
‘I’m offended at the suggestion,’ Charlie said. ‘But, fine. You have my word. Candy here, will be delivered safely to her own front door. To live her life however she chooses.’
Candy had gone silent. She turned wide, frightened eyes from Lydia to Charlie and back again.
‘Well, I say front door,’ Charlie said, turning a large and dangerous smile onto Candy. ‘I mean the pavement I picked you up from.’
The Silver Mark Page 16
