Chapter Seventy-Two
Fox
The village fete was in full swing, with laughing children and parents gripping Styrofoam cups of very average coffee.
We found who we were looking for by the bouncy castle.
“Go on, Bibi. We’ll wait right here.”
Bibi kicked off her shoes and was clambering into the castle before I’d finished my sentence.
Benjamin Norwood was standing watching his daughter charging around the bouncy castle at full speed, her braids swinging.
I walked up to him. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”
He turned to look at us, his eyes immediately flicking to the nearby bodyguard who was doing his best to blend in, despite his dark glasses and thick jacket.
We knew The Corporation would’ve had a presence at Balgray Hall. Someone there to do the job. Someone there to watch us. Jenny had obtained security footage of the party.
“Not here,” Norwood said.
“Absolutely here. It’s good to remind you what’s at stake.
” I nodded toward the two laughing girls.
Then I spoke fast. “We are nobodies. Independent. We have a hobby. It’s a little different to other parents’ hobbies.
And there might be similarities with your work—but to us, it’s not work.
It’s not a career choice. We are not trying to take over anything. ”
“We’re just having fun.” Haze attempted a smile.
“This is what The Chameleon told me, too.”
“But you didn’t believe him?”
Norwood shrugged. “He was so emphatic, so desperate to get us off your case, it made me think he was in business with you both.”
“I understand you see threats everywhere. Everyone is out to get you and take over—but that’s not what’s happening here.”
Reggie started crying. Haze leaned down and plucked him out of the stroller, bouncing him on her hip. “We’re parents, first and foremost. But we need a little something to keep us going. Something more.”
Norwood looked at Haze. “Pilates and online shopping not enough for you? That did it for my ex.”
“We all choose our own ways to help us be the best we can be. The key is finding what works for you.” She smiled up at him.
A surprisingly Zen response from Haze considering that he’d just asked her why stretching and working out her credit card didn’t keep her quiet.
Norwood observed us both. “You two just have a ‘hobby.’ There’s no bigger plan?”
“No,” we said in unison.
“Dave is a part of my organization,” Norwood said.
I remembered the drug dealer with the coasters.
“He vouched for you both,” he went on. “Said he’d tried to hire you, and you refused.”
“As we’ve been saying, we’re not in the business. It’s purely a passion project.”
“And you won’t come after any of my people again?”
I nodded. “We’ll make sure we stay in our lane, and only kill the nobodies. The bad men acting on their own bad thoughts. Not on someone else’s orders.”
Norwood looked me in the eye. “How did you know it was me?”
“We saw a video clip of you at the party, dipping your finger into a glass of red wine and smudging it on your shirt.”
“Bloody cameras everywhere. You never know when you’re being filmed.”
“You wanted us to think you were a dumb drunk,” said Haze.
“The toff with nothing better to do is an easy stereotype to lean into.”
He’d played the part well; we’d fallen for it without a second thought. If it hadn’t been for that small giveaway in the video footage, we might never have clocked it was him.
All the intelligence we had on The Corporation told us that they were a European gang with a new business model.
That they had people working for them who were the best in their fields, regardless of nationality.
Just because the majority of those doing the grunt work were Albanian or Bulgarian, it didn’t mean the head of The Corporation was.
The shell company they hid behind wasn’t Unique Events—it was Restore Glory, Norwood’s charity that had supposedly been set up to help save England’s stately homes.
Those houses were such money pits, I knew how easy it would be for them to fudge accounts.
Funds allocated for a new roof could be used to support a drug-importing venture.
The parties themselves helped launder the cash they were getting from their enterprises.
Of course, no one was actually spending ￡50,000 to sit at a table and eat boiled chicken and drink average wine.
It was all for appearances—and to clean the money.
I looked at Norwood. “You need to assure us that this is it. You’re not sending anyone after us again?”
He shrugged. “You can relax. You’re off my shit list. You were a threat. An upset. We thought you’d been hired by a higher power to mess things up. Three of our most important men died at your hands.”
“They were terrible people,” said Haze through gritted teeth. “We were going after them as individuals. Not you as a group.”
“Clark was a good friend. And one that was going to make me even richer. We had big plans for the future.”
“Clark was an unfortunate coincidence.”
“You can see my confusion. You were taking out my top brawn, and then not long after Ivrea, when you were supposedly scared of us, you went and took out my top brain. It looked like you were coming after my whole business.”
Bibi squealed as she bounced high and landed on her bottom. Norwood’s daughter was lying beside her, laughing.
“It’s a shame you don’t want to join us.
My model of using people based on ability not nationality is really bringing gang warfare into the twenty-first century.
We’re not hiding in the shadows, on the run from police.
Most of us are out here living our lives, and people have no idea what we’re capable of. ”
It was a little galling to find out we weren’t that special. We’d been out presenting ourselves as Mr. and Mrs. Normal, congratulating ourselves on hiding our dark side from the world. Now it turned out we weren’t the only ones.
“You must know what it’s like to work a stereotype to your advantage?” Norwood motioned at Haze. “You get written off as a yummy mummy.” He patted my shoulder. “You as some crass American finance bro.” He shrugged. “And I’m just a posh twat with a stately.”
“We’re on the side of good.” I sniffed. “Of making the world a better place. You just care about making big money.”
“If you had heating bills like mine, you’d care about that too. And don’t deny that money plays a part in what you do. It might help you sleep at night to say it’s only about doing the right thing, but it’s luxury Egyptian cotton sheets you’re snoring soundly on.”
I bristled. “You’ve got my number now. If you’re worried about anything, pick up the phone—don’t pull the trigger.” I motioned toward our happy daughters. “It’s high stakes for all of us.”
He nodded. “Fatherhood changes you. We all have a line we won’t cross. It’s why no one ever came near you when the children were nearby.”
We killed only men, and only bad ones. He killed anyone, but only adults. We all had the rules we lived by, the things we needed to tell ourselves to prove we weren’t monsters.