“Seriously, I can’t do it anymore. The pussy was great; all the tail I wanted but with my daughter at home – I’m getting a mouthful from her, and she’s six, about being lonely and single. If she sees me with a woman – and that girl knows how to search the internet already – she’ll be hoping she’s got a new mama.” He stood up from behind his desk, one of Manchester’s finest criminals who had somehow walked away intact from the gangs that had brought him up.
“That sounds tough.”
Drew nodded. “So now I have a dungeon where other people get to play.”
Alex followed him out of the office through a door behind his desk into the rabbit warren of the old mill that had been converted into one of Drew’s castles. Meeting rooms and a lounge were spread out on the floor that was high enough to afford a view over the Northern Quarter and New Ancoats, Beatham Tower visible from another window.
There was a familiar cough and Loneghan stood there, suited and booted as normal, his hair greased back, the jagged scar partially hidden with the beard he’d decided to grow.
“Maynard.”
Alex’s surname was growled.
“How’s it going?”
There was a nod, no smile. “Our friend has returned from his holiday early. He landed at Gatwick this morning.”
By “friend” Alex knew he meant Garrison.
“Any idea who picked him up?”
“Kenny Gallagher and I think that name’s more familiar to you than it was before.” Drew directed them into a room that looked like a showroom for a high-end furniture company.
Alex sat down and tried to slow his heart rate.
“You know about…” He didn’t want to say her name just in case they didn’t know her, in case everything was mistaken and Tilly was taking a long holiday in Bali.
“Abby Walker. Or Amelia Hope, whichever name you know her by.” Loneghan sank down into the sofa. “This all just gets even more complicated.”
Drew hovered near the door. “Get your girl away from there, Alex. It’s all going to go down, and that bloody cult isn’t helping things.”
“What do you know?”
Alex saw a look shared between Drew and Loneghan.
“One of Tony Jones’ boys was shot. He died. The shooter’s being kept safe somewhere near Severton. I don’t know where, but Jones’ lads are looking for him. We know Jones took a shipment a few days back – it wasn’t cocaine. He’s moved on from that at the moment.”
“Guns.”
Loneghan nodded. “And the rest. Transporting them to somewhere in the Middle East, but that’s above both our pay grades”
“Shit.” It seemed like the most appropriate response.
“Indeed.” Loneghan folded his arms and looked semi-relaxed until there was a loud pounding at the door. “Fuck, I know that rhythm.” He rubbed his face with his hand while Drew opened the door.
The woman who entered was petite, wearing a tailored suit and oversized glasses. Her hair was cut into a neat bob and she looked anything but pleased to see them.
“So this is where the boys club meets.” Her fierce gaze jumped from Drew to Loneghan. “If either of you have a good explanation as to why I wasn’t invited to this testosterone-filled powwow I suggest you put it forward now.”
Alex saw Loneghan bury slightly deeper into the sofa.
Drew didn’t move. “If you ever check your personal phone you’ll note the three messages that were sent to you by myself informing you of thispowwow.So it’s nice of you to join us, even if you’re late.” He glowered.
The woman glowered back and then looked at Alex, her expression changing seamlessly.
“You must be Alex Maynard. I’m Indy Carter. Nice to meet you.” She held out her hand.
Alex shook it, not entirely sure what would be the right response at this moment in time. There was a lot of fury in the room.
