“You wanted to talk,” El reminded him as he dragged his hand down his sweaty face. “What’s up?”
“How’d Grandad get to know HarryBailey?” Cal asked.
It wasn’t the question El had expected. He opened his eyes and gave Cal a curious look. “Grandad? He didn’t, far as I know.”
“You said it was a legacy client.”
El rolled his eyes. “Is there any point in giving you the client files?”
“No.”
“It wouldn’t kill you to read them.”
“You don’t know that.”
El unhooked his arm from the back of the bench long enough to flick Calon the ear. “I know you’re not stupid or lazy, so stop trying to convince me. If you had read the file, you’d know that Bailey wasn’t the legacy client. That’s Edward Dexter, their head of security.”
That was a surprise. Cal paused and thought of Edward’s hard eyes, granite, deeply lined face, and the ice in his voice as he confronted Cal that night. Maybe notthatmuch of a surprise.
“He wasa crook?”
El scratched under his ear with his thumb. Grandad hadn’t exactly kept detailed records about his clients. He probably wouldn’t have even if they’d been legit clients. He’d been an “IOU on the back of a betting slip” sort of man. Of the two of them, El had been old enough to have a fifty folded into his hand and get sent to put a bet on or buy a bottle of Jack. He remembered more.
“Dexter was a cop, Cal,” he said.
“So yes on the crook thing?”
There was a pause, and then El lifted his hand and wobbled it from side to side. He ended the gesture with a shrug. “Maybe. He went out with our mum, and you know what terrible fucking taste she had.”
“The fuck?” Cal said as he sat up straight on the chair. “I don’t remember that.”
“You’d have been… what, five?” El said. “Four?Grandma was still alive, and she didn’t want us around any of Mum’s men. I saw them come around a couple of times, but Grandma would give me some cash and send us down to the shop to get some ice cream. Dexter got on with Grandad, though. He used to come around and they’d talk cars while they smoked cigars out in the garden. Sometimes Gran would let me sit and listen for a bit, but you know what shewas like.”
Cal nodded. Their gran hadn’t trusted men around little kids—not teachers or neighbors or strangers. Hell, now that he was grown and looked back at some of her careful questions about what he’d done that day, she hadn’t even trusted Grandad completely. Someone she’d trusted had burned Grandma at some point, and she’d been gun-shy for the rest of her life. As fucked-up as their mumhad been, Cal had always kinda figured it had something to do with her.
“So what happened?”
“I don’t know,” El said. “He’d been in an accident in the Bentley—Grandad had loaned it to him to take Mum out for the day, and he brought it back all smashed up—but Grandad didn’t seem that pissed off. I think Dexter paid for it, anyhow. A couple of weeks after that, though, he didn’t come round again.I think he left town. Or, well, if he’s working for the Bailey Group, I guess he left the country. Whatever happened, though, Grandad kept his name in the legacy file when he handed it over.”
“Give ’em a good price, do a good job,” Cal said, his accent thicker than usual as he mimicked his grandad’s Tottenham twang. “Don’t ask questions.”
El nodded. “Why do you want to know, anyhow?” he asked.“Most of the time, you don’t want to know anything about them other than where they want to get to. Is this about your rich boss, the one you didn’t plan to sleep with?”
“No,” Cal lied dismissively. If El found out what was going on, he’d definitely spill the beans to Edward. It was his business on the line. “He’s a dick.”
El pushed himself off the back of the bench and leaned forward, his elbowsbraced on his knees and his eyes trained on the scuffed toes of his trainers. He flexed his hands, spread his fingers, and then clenched them into fists.
“Is it about Van?” he asked as he glanced sideways at Cal.
“What?” Cal spluttered. His head had been full of misgivings over whether he should keep Joe’s secrets or not. The sudden injection of his ex caught him off balance. “The fuck it is.Why would you ask that?”
“Someone said you’d been down at the Dobbins’s the other night,” El said. “Look, I know it’s your life, Cal, but fuck sake. Is it worth another stint behind bars to drive fast in someone else’s car?”
Probably not, but Cal was pretty sure that most people would have said definitely. He shook his head.
“Who?”
“Malcolm’s auntie said that he’d seen you.” El shook his headand pushed himself up off the bench. He crossed his arms as he looked down on Cal—something he hadn’t been able to do normally since Cal hit sixteen. “It’s… it took me a while to get used to the idea that you, you know, liked men that way.”
