Chapter 33
‘Dean, where are you?’ I finally managed to get hold of him at nine the next morning.
‘What d’you mean, where am I?’ Dean’s voice was muffled and I assumed he was under the bedclothes. Whose bedclothes I wasn’t at all interested in finding out. ‘D’you know what time it is? It’s Saturday morning.’
‘But where are you?’
‘Jess, where I am and who I’m with is, I think you’ll find, no longer any of your business. You asked me to leave’ – Dean was being at his most sanctimonious – ‘told me to leave… and now you’re chasing after me again at… seven on a Saturday—’
‘Dean.’ I cut his sermon short. ‘I need you to look after Lola this morning. I’ve… we’ve… a restaurant meeting this morning.’
I was thinking on my feet. I’d already messaged Robyn and Fabian and Mum and Kamran simply saying we needed to get together without delay.
I didn’t know if Kamran had told Fabian what had happened the previous day up at The White House.
And I was almost certain he’d have had no idea that both Lola and I had been down at Darren Singleton’s place. Why would he?
‘I’d planned to spend my day with Farrah…’ Dean paused, obviously wanting a reaction from me.
‘That’s great,’ I said pleasantly, really not caring a fig that he’d moved on so quickly. Par for the course with Dean. ‘But please include Lola in your plans. It’ll be good for her to meet your new girlfriend.’
‘You’ve never thought that before,’ Dean said huffily.
‘Shall we say ten? Hmm? Lovely. I’ll have her ready. See you then.’ I ended the call quickly, just as Joel came into the kitchen.
‘I’d pack my bags,’ Joel said quietly as he went to sit back at the kitchen table we’d left only a couple of hours earlier, ‘but I’m not sure where I’m allowed to go…’ He trailed off, unable to look me in the eye.
‘This is where family comes in,’ I said, sounding like something out of a sugary sweet TV drama. ‘They’re all coming round…’
‘You’re not cooking again?’ Joel stared in my direction. ‘Isn’t it someone else’s turn? And after what you and Lola went through last night?’
‘Joel, I’ve been told not to leave the house until the police have been here again. I need to sort all this out, and I don’t want Lola here earwigging. But I do want you here…’ I broke off as Lola came down, yawning, still in her nightdress.
‘Dad’s coming to take you out, sweetie,’ I said. ‘You need to get showered and dressed. He’ll be here in the next hour or so.’
‘I can’t wait to tell him about what happened last night.’ Lola had obviously bounced right back from the goings-on down at Queen’s Gardens.
‘Lola, do me a favour and don’t tell Dad what happened. Not just yet, anyway.’
‘Why not?’ Her face fell.
‘I think the police will want to keep it all under wraps,’ I said. ‘You know…?’ I lowered my voice confidentially, and Lola nodded in response. ‘For the time being anyway.’
‘Might mess up their investigations?’ she asked, lowering her own voice and turning her back on Joel. ‘Interfering with witnesses and all that?’
‘You’ve got it.’ I winked and nodded back.
Lola tapped her nose. ‘Mum’s the word,’ she said, and I wanted to laugh. She offered a knowing look in Joel’s direction as he continued to sit in silence at the table, before returning upstairs to get ready.
I really wasn’t sure what to do with him.
So, I scrambled us both some eggs and waited for the others.
* * *
Kamran and Mum arrived with bagels, croissants and enough Costa coffee to sink a ship. ‘Didn’t know who was actually going to be here,’ Kamran said once he’d put the goodies on the table.
Fabian was seated at the table, perusing my Saturday Guardian, but Joel had already gone back up to his room: ‘I’m not family,’ he’d said, loading the word meaningfully as I had done.
‘You OK, Jess?’ Robyn asked before sitting down with Fabian, who was looking pale.
We were all a bit tense, not quite sure what anyone else actually knew, concentrating on plates and knives and ‘Have you got a napkin?’ ‘I’ll just get the strawberry jam,’ type conversation. Polite and, particularly to those who didn’t like jam, meaningless chitchat.
And then Fabian started. ‘This is all my fault,’ he said. ‘I was arrogant enough to think I could keep Darren Singleton’s lot at arm’s length.’
‘But what did they want from you?’ I asked. ‘What have you got that they wanted?’
‘What do you think, Jess?’ Robyn tutted.
‘I’ve no idea. The White House?’
‘After I’d been able to refer Joel Sinclair to the National Referral Mechanism and managed to show he was a victim of modern slavery, Singleton’s lot were after me to join them.’
‘Right?’
‘They’d pay me exceptionally good money to work for them.’
‘You know, Jess! Don’t be thick.’ Robyn was obviously stressed. ‘Like Tom Hagen in The Godfather?’
‘You’re the literary one round here,’ I snapped, smarting at being called thick.
‘Well, you must have seen the film, Jess,’ Mum interrupted, giving Robyn a warning look.
‘I’m probably the only one on the planet who hasn’t,’ I said. ‘Fill me in.’
‘Tom Hagen was the Corleone’s family solicitor.’
‘Consigliere,’ Fabian put in. ‘Basically, Jess, I was being offered a load of dosh to defend an organised crime network that appears to be getting bigger all the time.’
‘You turned them down?’ I asked.
‘’Course he turned them down, Jess! For heaven’s sake.’ This from Robyn.
‘I was polite, tried to keep out of their way, but he was fairly insistent.’
‘Henry was?’ I asked. ‘Darren, I mean?’
‘He’s just a small fish in probably a much bigger pond. Thinks he’s a head honcho but, as far as I can see, he really isn’t overly bright. He certainly isn’t at international level.’ Fabian gave a little laugh. ‘But yes, he was the one I met on a couple of occasions.’
‘Really?’ I pulled a face. ‘A blooming big posh house, to say he’s a tiddler. Where do the sharks and whales live then?’
‘Oh, London, Spain, Italy. All over the place. Ndrangheta, one of the world’s most powerful criminal organisations, is based in Calabria, Italy and dominates the European cocaine trade. Apparently launders billions through companies, construction projects, and international real estate.’
‘You seem to know enough about it, Fabian,’ Mum said, obviously worried.
‘Part of my job; all part of my law training,’ Fabian replied seriously. ‘A world I’m not interested in.’
‘I should think not,’ Robyn snapped. ‘I told you all along not to take Joel’s case on.’
‘So, is this Henry bloke part of this Ndrangheta gang then?’ Mum asked.
‘I wouldn’t know,’ Fabian said tiredly. ‘I doubt it very much. Darren Singleton’s pretty insignificant really. The National Crime Agency will question him to find out what he knows, I would think. Hope he leads them to the really bad boys, but I doubt he’ll be able.’
‘So, when you politely turned down his job offer – what then?’ I leaned forward, my croissant untouched.
‘Oh, the usual…’
‘The usual?’ Mum looked horrified. ‘Not a horse’s head in your bed?’
I actually laughed out loud at that. ‘Horse’s head?’
‘Stream the film, Jess,’ Kamran said. ‘It’ll be on Netflix or Prime.’
‘So, the slashed tyres, the broken window at The White House. All petty stuff to try to intimidate me.’
‘How d’you know it was them?’ I asked. ‘Henry’s lot?’
‘Pretty sure it was them,’ Fabian replied.
‘Probably Darren Singleton himself sending a couple of lackeys up to The White House to pay me back for not taking on the cases he’d offered me.
All very amateurish stuff, you know. They’re not the big boys here.
He realised I wasn’t going to play ball and the slashed tyres and the smashed window were his way of reminding me he knew where I was. ’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure about the window,’ Kamran said. ‘I reckon that was aimed at me – well, my family anyway.’
‘At you? Darren Singleton was after you as well?’ Mum put out a hand in Kamran’s direction.
‘Darren Singleton? No, no.’ Kamran shook his head.
‘You know, people round here don’t like progress.
Whenever – and wherever – we’ve expanded Frozen, there’s always been a spate of breaking windows and vandalism.
There’ll always be a few Luddites around who don’t want new buildings being put up – despite our creating jobs for the village.
A few broken windows and a bit of graffiti is par for the course. Always has been.’
‘Just wait until you start knocking St Mede’s down then,’ Robyn said. ‘Any new factory you start building there will be a real target.’
‘Certainly will,’ Kamran agreed.
‘I hate the idea that people don’t like you and your family, Kamran,’ Mum said, pulling a face.
‘What about the red paint?’ I asked.
‘What red paint?’ Fabian and Robyn spoke as one.
‘Nothing, nothing.’ Kamran smiled but raised a warning eye in my direction, obviously wanting to keep it from Fabian.
‘So, what’s happening now then?’ Robyn asked. ‘Is this unpleasantness over? Can you get on with finishing and opening The White House without worrying about more broken windows, more slashed tyres?’
‘Well, as I see it,’ Kamran said, taking over, ‘it’s hugely to Fabian’s, and therefore the restaurant’s, advantage that this Singleton character has been arrested.’
‘It’s a bonus,’ Fabian agreed. ‘But, look, as far as I knew, he and his cronies had given up on me anyway. No point trying to persuade me with cash and then through intimidation if I really wasn’t going to go along with them and play their game.’
‘But will Darren Singleton think it’s you, Fabes, who’s shopped him to the police?’ Robyn was obviously still very concerned.
‘To the National Crime Agency?’ Fabian paused. ‘Possibly. Although, in reality, they’ll have had their eye on him for months. Probably since he moved into the village last year.’
‘But Singleton might think you shopped him. Get his associates to come after you?’ Robyn went on.