‘He keeps it locked,’ Gracie said.
The door was on the other side of the street, five yards across the gantry. It looked solid. A wooden door, two different locks judging by the keyholes. Solid surround.
Cook backed up into the stairwell, focusing his attention on the door. Another test of will. His will to take the door down, versus the craftsmanship of whoever had installed it.
Only one way to find out.
Cook sprinted across the gantry. Only five yards, but enough to get some speed up. He turned his shoulder to the door and imagined himself going through it – the idea that it would stop him not even a possibility.
His shoulder went into the door with all the force he could muster, pushing through to an imaginary point several feet beyond. The door splintered, and sprung open, and he stumbled through, Gracie only steps behind him.
‘What’ve you done with her?’ Gracie yelled, flying at Reynolds, her knife blade flashing in the light of a gas lamp.
Reynolds, up on his feet the second the door crashed open, skipped backwards, out of Gracie’s range. He left behind a workbench covered with treasures, Ruby’s gas mask pride of place, its contents spread out across the benchtop, amongst strings of pearls, gold rings, and knick-knacks.
‘Where is she?’ Cook asked. ‘Is she alive, or did you kill her?’
Reynolds kept his eyes on Gracie’s knife.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said. ‘But get this crazy bitch out of my face before I take offence and fight back.’
‘Try me,’ Gracie spat, thrusting forward.
Reynolds stepped into the thrust, grabbing Gracie’s arm and twisting. Her knife clattered to the floor.
‘What’ve you done with Ruby!’ she screamed.
Reynolds stepped away, his hands in the air. He looked at Cook for confirmation.
‘You think I hurt our girl?’
‘Where is she?’ Cook asked.
Reynolds was incredulous, looking back and forth, Cook, then Gracie, then back again.
‘You think it’s me?’ he asked.
‘Tell me it wasn’t,’ Gracie said. ‘And if you’re lying, I swear to God.’
Reynolds kicked Gracie’s knife back to her.
‘If you think it was me, you’d better do me in,’ he said. ‘If that’s what you think of me.’
‘You were seen picking her up outside the Empire,’ Cook said.
‘I was on the island all night. I was in the hole with that bomb for half of it. With you.’
‘Before then,’ Cook said. ‘Before you showed up at Frankie’s party.’
‘Who said they saw me?’ Reynolds asked.
‘They saw the car,’ Cook said. ‘Markings on the side. ARP.’
Reynolds sighed. Shook his head.
‘I’m not the only one with an ARP car,’ he said.
98
