Chapter Thirty-Six
“So, princess, have you told his nibs the score?” Mickey asked, manoeuvring his wheelchair more squarely in front of the screen.
Verity shrugged. “I’ve told him he won’t be using the evidence provided. But he doesn’t know why. I thought that might be better coming from you.”
Mickey rubbed his hands together. “Happy to oblige.” His smile chilled. “You see, my son, if you send anyone looking for that boy, they’ll come to me first. Everyone around here knows he’s one of my lads.” He gave a theatrical sigh. “But all I’ll be able to give them is the security tape of you visiting my office, a week or so after that tragic incident, with a large bag of cash. Sadly I don’t record audio, but it’s all noted down in my ledger, ‘Full payment for services rendered’ and I will be more than happy to explain what those services were.”
Cross jerked in shock and couldn’t stop himself from saying, “But that money was for the loan?”
Verity’s eyes opened wide in exaggerated confusion. “Loan? What loan?”
For the first time in as long as he could remember Cross felt utterly at a loss. “But–”
“Like I’d ‘loan’ my only daughter money. She’s all I have, Cross. What’s mine is hers.”
Struggling to put the pieces together. Cross shook his head. “So… so this was your plan all along? But there is no way you could have known that I’d play along?”
Verity laughed. “Oh, don’t be soft! This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t even the back up plan. This was just a contingency, in case you ever got a little too suspicious of me for any reason. We never thought for a moment you’d try to pay him off, we thought you’d just put the frighteners on him. But even that connection would be enough to tie you and Mickey together. A bit of extra insurance if things went sideways.”
Mickey gave a chuckle. “When you turned up alone, with a briefcase full of money, it was too good an opportunity to waste, so we hung onto the diamonds, waiting for the right moment.”
“So what was the plan?” Cross asked.
Verity shrugged and hopped up on the desk, swinging her legs in the air. “Exactly what I told you. We wanted Valentina. At first we thought she’d be a regular visitor and we were just laying low, waiting for her to turn up, but she didn’t. So we fucked with the Italian deal, assuming she’d have to come over to sort it out. Didn’t realise you were her little lapdog, cleaning up the mess so mommy didn’t have to get her hands dirty.”
From the screen Mickey interjected, “Guess it was only fair for you to do the clean up. This time. She taught you well.”
Cross winced and glanced up at Verity. “So you knew?”
Mickey interrupted before Verity could answer. “Knew that you were one driving? That you were the one who put me in this chair? Yeah, I got a good look at you as you drove into me you cunt. Never forget a face.”
Cross turned away from the screen, and gently took Verity’s hand, making his appeal to her alone. “I didn’t know.”
She paused and glanced down at his fingers. “Didn’t know what?”
“About what Valentina did to your mother. I was twenty and I thought I’d killed someone. And she made sure I kept thinking that. Kept believing that she was the only thing keeping me out of jail. She told me she’d suppressed the police report and paid off the witness. I had no idea…”
Verity shrugged, “You did enough. If you’d come forward at the time, admitted what you’d done, none of this would have ever happened. You’re as guilty as everyone else.” Pushing his hands away she got off the desk and picked up her bag. “And this way, I get to take down all the people responsible in one go. It’s tidy. Mum would have appreciated that.”
Cross swung his gaze back to the screen, struggling to keep his voice level. “So what happens now?”
Mickey smiled. “Now, Verity is going to give you an account number and you’re going to transfer all that lovely money across. Once we’ve got it, we’ll tell you where the diamond is hidden.”
Cross gave a snort. “The Eighth Circle is never going to let five million pounds just disappear.”
“Oh, I think they’re going to be busy for a while. Once the higher-ups realise you nicked their cash the hell hounds will be after you. And just in case they catch you before I’m ready to disappear, I’ll be holding on to this,” he patted the ledger in front of him, “and the security video of your visit. A little insurance policy.”
Verity placed a small card in front of him on the desk, the transfer details carefully inked out in black.
Cross stared at it in mute horror. He couldn’t quite comprehend how this was happening, how things had spiralled out of his control so quickly.
“Are we good?” Verity asked.
Cross nodded, still not quite trusting himself to speak. There was nothing left to say.
“Then I’ll be off.”
Rage flared to the surface and Cross leapt to his feet. “Oh you’re not going anywhere,” he snarled.
“Sit down! I said, SIT DOWN!” Gone was the faux, jovial, cockney accent. Mickey’s glare blazed through the screen. This was the man who had terrorised all the local hoods and hoodlums into submission ten years before. This was the Mickey Barnes who’d built his little empire on dirt and blood.
Cross realised with sinking certainty that he’d underestimated the man. All too aware that he wasn’t the one in control of this conversation he nodded and resumed his seat.
“That’s better. Now you’re going to make a quick call to your goons who are guarding the entrance. You tell them that they’re to let my Verity walk straight out the front door. Or I’ll be making a phone call of my own. The only question is, do I call Special Branch or do I have a word with Frank O’Dell?”
Cross ground his teeth, but kept his expression bland. “And after that?”
“Well, you’re going to stay on the line with me, sitting right there where I can see you until that money has gone through and Verity rings to say she’s safely in a cab and on her way. After that, I don’t give a fuck what you do. But I don’t think you’ll be hanging around long enough to cause me any problems.”
There was a long moment of silence and then Verity swung the bag onto her shoulder. “So, is everyone in agreement?”
Cross glared at her, then gave a sharp nod. He pulled out his phone and dialled his head of security. Not bothering with a greeting he said, “Stand down the men at the entrance. They’re to let the girl leave… Yes, I’m sure. We’ve come to a different arrangement.” Call complete he snapped his phone closed and placed it in clear view on the desk.
Through sheer force of will, he kept his hands steady as he opened the bank portal and typed all the necessary security answers. He had to close his eyes and take a breath before he could perform the next task, but somehow he managed to set up the transfer and type the account details. His finger hesitated only briefly before pressing the enter key.
“It’s done,” he said.
“Excellent!” Verity replied. “I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure, but… well…you know.” Giving him one last, satisfied smirk, she let herself out of the office.
Cross watched the door close behind her and then returned his attention to the stolen cache of gems in front of him and began to carefully count the diamonds. Frank was the least of his problems now, but he needed space to think. The Board would no doubt be informed almost immediately of the money he’d taken from the central account and he’d be expected to submit a full request to explain that withdrawal within the next few hours. They were probably stretched a little thin at the moment, so he estimated he had until mid afternoon before they reached out to him.
The video call continued and he became aware of Mickey fidgeting as he checked his phone for the third time.
“Not getting nervous are you, Mickey?” he asked. “Five million takes a little time to transfer. Patience is required.”
“I know that!” The chippy note had returned to the man’s voice, reminding Cross that Mickey was playing well outside his league on this scam.
“Oh, perhaps you’re wondering what’s happened to Verity,” he said, a light smile starting to play around his lips. “She’s not going to call, you do realise that.”
“What have you done to her!” Mickey leaned forward, snarling into the camera, “If you’ve laid one hand on my little girl–”
“Oh yes, your precious little girl, whom you were more than happy to whore out when it suited you.” Cross lounged back in his chair. “The terrifying Mickey Barnes, who always manages to find someone else to do the fighting and bleeding.” His smile grew broader. “I did nothing. She walked out of here a very happy girl.” His phone pinged and he glanced down to read the message. “And right now I imagine she’s halfway to the airport, a very rich young lady.”
“She wouldn’t. That’s not the plan. She’ll–”
Cross held up his phone. “She has the money, Mickey. Transfer complete.” He watched as Barnes glanced to the side, obviously checking his account status. “Oh dear, are you not seeing the money in your bank… I do hope she wrote the number down correctly.”
“What did you do?” The man’s voice was a dry rasp.
“I did exactly as I was asked. Nothing more. This is all Verity. You weren’t listening to what she said, were you? She said she was finally getting her revenge on ‘ all ’ the people responsible for her mother’s death. ‘ All ’ Mickey, not ‘both’. She wasn’t just talking about Valentina and me.” He chuckled, “I’m sure she sees you as equally culpable in that crime. Perhaps more so.”
“This is family, Cross. You know nothing about that!”
“She doesn’t class you as family, Mickey. Not since she was twelve and you walked out on the mess you’d created.”
“What do you know about anything!”
“I know how to read.”
“What?”
Cross raised his phone again. “According to this message, I can relax, the missing diamond was never hidden in my club in the first place. That was a bluff.” He paused for a moment, thinking through the options. “Verity has the money, and she doesn’t seem the type to take souvenirs, so where do you think they hid it?” He tilted his head to the left, “Did you have any unexpected visitors last night, Mickey? Perhaps a certain young lad who seems very fond of your Verity?”
Mickey jerked and Cross could see his hands clenching into fists. “That fucking mongrel,” he said, his breath grunting from between his teeth, but Cross saw his eyes flicker away from the camera as they scanned the room.
“Do you think you’ve got time to find it, Mickey? Before the police arrive and tear your place apart?” A glint of teeth showed in his smile. “I wonder what else they’ll find during that search.”
“I will make fucking sure they find everything I have on you.”
“Ah yes, but there’s one big difference between us Mickey,” Cross swept the gems back into their envelope.
“And what’s that?”
“I can run.”
With a snarl of rage Mickey swept the device from his desk and Cross found himself staring at a blurry image of the ceiling. The call didn’t drop out, however, and although he could no longer see Mickey, he could hear him quite clearly yelling to his men to search the property.
Deciding his presence was no longer required, Cross returned to his apartment, entered his dressing room and stared at his reflection in the full length mirror. All things considered, he looked relatively calm, though his hair was somewhat untidy. Picking up a brush, he repaired the slight damage to his appearance, making sure no cracks were showing through the veneer he presented to the world.
Opening the wardrobe he shrugged out of his jacket and placed it carefully on a wooden hanger, giving it a shake to smooth out the creases.
Returning to the mirror he loosened the knot of his tie and pulled it free from his collar, slowly turning the facts over in his head as he wound the length around his knuckles and then added it to the inventory of silk in the open drawer.
There was some satisfaction in finally having all the answers, he decided as he unbuttoned his shirt, or at least most of the answers. There was one piece of the jigsaw he still could not fit into place and that was Chris. Balling the shirt in his fist he dropped it into the laundry basket.
Who was Chris in all this?
He bent down to unlace his shoes as he worried away at that question. He could understand why Verity felt it worth the risk to embed herself so deeply within the ranks of the Eighth Circle, but why would Chris?
He toed out of his shoes and placed them neatly in the bottom of the wardrobe, completing the perfect row of shiny leather and then stripped off his socks.
The socks joined his shirt in the hamper and Cross undid his belt, sliding it slowly through the loops and then hanging it from a hook inside the wardrobe. There had to be a bond between them, he couldn’t believe it was just for the money. He pushed his suit trousers down his legs and stepped out of them. Retrieving them from the floor he pinched the hem between his fingers, careful to lay the creases flat as he shook them out. Love was the obvious answer, but that kind of love prompted a visceral reaction, particularly when you had to watch the object of your affection being placed under the kind of duress Verity had endured recently. Would Chris really have been able to maintain his composure as he was forced to watch other men pawing at her?
Placing the trousers over a hanger he reached up to the top shelf of the wardrobe and pulled down a bundle of clothing he’d not worn in many years. How had Chris reacted to the various incidents that had taken place at the Top Table? Cross was fairly sure he was less experienced in subterfuge than Verity, and therefore less able to hide his emotions.
Cross pulled the well worn denim up his legs, pleased to note that his daily regime of diet and exercise meant that they still fitted comfortably. He honestly hadn’t paid much attention to his bar manager. Clearly, that was a mistake which had left him open to this scam. He chided himself for his lack of awareness as he pulled a dark t-shirt over his head. But he would have noticed jealousy, he was fine tuned to pick up on that emotion, knowing the complications it could cause amongst the staff.
A grey hooded sweatshirt followed and Cross fumbled about at the back of the wardrobe before he finally unearthed a scuffed pair of lace up boots. Taking a seat he pulled on a new pair of thick socks followed by the boots. He remembered that one interaction he’d caught between the pair of them. He hadn’t seen jealousy but he’d seen a level of care and concern that had immediately triggered him to change the rotas and limit their time together.
Returning to his office, he found the call to Mickey’s device was still live. Although he could see little more than shadows flickering across the dingy ceiling it was clear the search was still in progress.
Opening the Eighth Circle database he did a quick search of his own into the background files held on all staff. A few seconds later he received confirmation of his theory.
He nodded to himself. Of course, not all love was romantic.
The tinny wail of police sirens, distorted through the speakers, almost drowned out the sounds of the search coming from Mickey’s office and Cross grinned, wondering whether he’d be treated to the sight of the police storming the building with a search warrant. Then the heel of a boot smashed into the screen and the connection ended.
He had no doubt Mickey would fulfil his threat and give the police all the faked evidence he had against him. But it was circumstantial at best and Cross had every confidence that His Majesty's finest would quickly see things his way.
He slid the packet of diamonds into one pocket and the gun Verity had brought with her into the other. The police he could handle, but he had no intention of facing the full wrath of the Eighth Circle. He made one last call before he switched out his club phone for a different device.
Nodding to himself, he slid the drawer closed and straightened the chair in front of the desk.
Exiting his office, he was greeted by a surprised look from his head of security, Ethan Price. Cross smiled to himself, the man had probably never seen him without his bespoke suit, certainly not on the main floor.
Price tilted his head as he approached. “Did you require the car?”
“No, that will not be necessary,” Cross said with a shake of his head. “I thought I’d take the bike.”
This answer clearly prompted further surprise and Price frowned. “Is everything alright?”
“I have a few things that I need to attend to.” Cross paused to run his eyes over the gleaming interior. “Keep an eye on things for me, while I’m gone.”
“Of course. Is–” The man hesitated, clearly not wanting to overstep unspoken boundaries. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Not today, Price. This is something I need to handle personally.”
His watch vibrated and he automatically glanced down. An alert had been triggered by his withdrawal earlier. That wasn’t standard practice, he thought and his eyes narrowed. He might have less time than he assumed.
Behind him he heard the ringtone from Price’s phone, but he kept his eyes fixed on the exit and ignored the man calling his name as he shouldered open the door. The bike was waiting for him, as requested, and he tipped the young lad generously, pressing his watch into his hands as he handed over the helmet.
Not bothering to look back at the sound of following feet, he swung one leg over the motorcycle, revved the engine and peeled away from the curb into the morning traffic.
Apparently, a lot less time than he’d assumed.
Thankfully his itemised list of things to do was very short. Firstly, he needed to disappear. With the sufficient resources he had, and plenty of favours still owing to him, that shouldn’t be a problem.
The only other item of business was finding Verity. That might take a little longer, but it would be worth the effort. A cold smile curled his lips as he leaned forward and opened the throttle, feeling the bike growl beneath him. Yes, he was very much looking forward to that reunion. She might have already taken possession of the carrot, but now he had the stick and he was going to fucking use it.