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“Gabby?” Mr. Rodney came from around the side of the house. “Are you all right?”

The man glanced at Mr. Rodney, eyes wide.

“Jerome!” Mr. Rodney called over his shoulder. “Gabriella needs help.”

The man took another step back, and the crunch of broken pieces of tile under his feet seemed to shock him into action. He turned and took off running down the street.

Gabriella watched him go until he disappeared from sight.

“What happened?” Mr. Rodney came to the gate, and looked at the broken tiles on the pavement, and then at her.

“Someone tried to attack me with a knife,” she said. She set her last remaining tile down and went to look for the knife in the street.

When she came back Mr. Rodney had gone in to his house for a brush and pan, and she took them gratefully so she could sweep up the broken slate and tip it in the bin.

“That’s a serious knife.” Mr. Rodney looked at the house and sighed. “Is it worth fighting Sutcliffe over a house when you could have been killed?”

“A house isn’t worth a life,” Gabriella picked the last tile back up, and followed him into the front garden. “But living under someone’s thumb isn’t acceptable either.”

“Solomon’s coming over tonight to meet your James,” Mr. Rodney said. “Maybe they can fix this for once and for all.”

She hoped so. It looked like nowhere was safe if they couldn’t.

chapter

twenty-six

James listened as Mr. Rodney and Gabriella recounted the story of her attack to himself, George and Solomon, and realized he was clenching and releasing his hands, over and over.

Solomon caught his eye, and there was a gleam in them that James shared.

He knew the Trinidadian was very fond of Gabriella, initially because of the care she’d taken of his uncle, Mr. Rodney, but it had grown into a fast friendship.

Besides, everything that made Gabriella a target was also designed to make life difficult for Mr. Rodney and the other residents.

Solomon didn’t take that lightly.

“It won’t happen again.” Solomon spoke into the silence.

“No, it won’t.” James was standing next to Gabriella and he put his arm around her and gave her a quick side hug and kissed her temple. “Ready to go?” he asked Solomon.

Solomon gave a laugh in answer, and they left through the doors that led into the garden and went around the side of the house.

“Let’s take my car,” James said. “I’ve got any number of reasons to be anywhere in London at any time.”

Solomon gave a shake of his head. “George will drop us a block away from the club. If we need to run, he’ll find us and pick us up.”

James gave in with a nod, and climbed into the back seat of Solomon’s Vauxhall. “I know we said we’d plan at the house, but I didn’t want to get into it in front of your uncle and Gabriella.”

“I thought the same,” Solomon said. “How about George drops us off, we go in and take the back stairs up to see Mr. Sutcliffe, who word is has an office above the club. Ashe might try to stop us, or one of his crew will, but I don’t think that’ll worry us too much.”

“No.” James knew he could be intimidating when he wanted to be. He was much taller than average, and built like he worked on a dock for a living. Solomon might be an inch or so taller, and he actually did work on a dock for a living, or a loading bay at British Rail, at least.

Not much would stand in their way if they wanted to go somewhere.

“You going to flash your warrant card?” Solomon asked.

“I’ve brought it.” James had been debating how official to make this since he’d left Scotland Yard this evening. “But if we can manage to back Sutcliffe off without it, I’d prefer it. If that doesn’t look possible, I’ll bring out the big guns.”