‘What?’
‘Well, barring your camera bag, did you leave any trace that you’d been in the study?’
Damn.‘I may have accidentally smashed a marble bust by the door.’
‘Oh. Well. In that case, they’ll definitely search there.’
‘All right,’ Em says. ‘Enough worrying about Al’s holiday snaps. We’re in plenty of trouble without having to spend the night agonising over that. Where next?’
‘The pub, tomorrow morning,’ I say. ‘Get that CCTV and get out. If we can secure the footage, that’s one bit of evidence linking us to here we can knock out.’
‘What about your camera?’
‘Ideally we can sort that straight after.’
‘The pub opens at ten,’ says Elle, looking at her phone. ‘That’s nice. They must do brunch.’
Cut to 11 a.m. the following morning.
We slept in the van – not recommended; I feel like I’ve been beaten up by the Yakuza – then tried to avoid detection by driving aimless loops along the back roads of Oxfordshire. Nobody’s washed, although we did stop in a field for some discreet changes of clothes, so we’re feeling a bit fresher (Jonny and I took the driver’s side, Em and El the offside. Anyone observing us would have thought they were watching a party of shy swingers).
And now we’re back at the Ram’s Head. We’re not going in as a four – too conspicuous – so Em and Jonny are doing this one. Em because there’s a chance her boyfriend will be on duty again, Jonny because he actually knows what he’s talking about with CCTV. Elle and I are waiting in the van, watchingthe road in the rear-view mirror and jumping whenever a car passes.
‘This is something, isn’t it?’
I glance at Elle, who is giving me a kind of isn’t-life-funny look.
‘Elle, don’t get me wrong, I’m sincerely glad to have met some people in the same line of work as me, but this is the first time I’ve ever worked with anyone else, and it’s the worst the job has ever gone.’
She nods, sympathetic. ‘Us too.’
‘It’s insane. Were we just in exactly the wrong place at exactly the wrong time?’
She shrugs. ‘Must be. Why? Do you think we were set up?’
‘Nah. Nobody would have known we were coming, unless one of you three did it.’
‘Oh,no.’ She looks shocked. ‘Jonny wouldn’t do that to us.’ The idea that Em might have dropped her in it seems to be too laughable to even deny. ‘It did cross my mind that you might have something to do with it, of course.’
‘Me?’
‘Yeah. You turn up, and our very next job, not only is the owner on the premises, they get murdered. Hard not to draw a connection.’
‘I didn’t even know where we were going until you told me, the day before.’
‘Well, quite. So we don’t need to consider that eventuality.’ She looks brighter, then frowns again. ‘That poor man. He probably did something wrong, but what an awful way to die.’
I can think of far worse, but Elle’s Pollyanna act is strangely comforting, so I don’t correct her.
‘Shall we talk a bit before they get back? Get to know each other better?’
‘Actually, I think that’s them.’
I’m lying, to avoid getting to know Elle better, but as we look, the door of the pub opens and two familiar figures pace towards the car.
‘Not good,’ says Em, hauling the door open.
‘Double-plus-ungood.’ Jonny follows her in.
