‘One question of momentous importance,’ Mick said.

Dave’s answer to the question was: ‘Król is your man, Mick, so he would have called you if he’d found the woman. I figured you’d call me when you knew. I’ve been waiting for you to phone.’

Silence for a few seconds, as if Mick was sniffing for bullshit. Which it was: Dave didn’t care whether or not Król had found the woman. Then he said: ‘I hear traffic, Dave, my man. Where are you?’

‘Where you sent me at Christ-knows-how-early this morning. I shouldn’t be having to do this, Mick. This lark should have been over. But I’m running around like an—’

‘Forget it. I doubt the bitch is going there.’

Mick had sent him to Grafton’s mum’s house in Kensington late last night. In case the bitch woke up this morning and decided to crawl there for sanctuary. A bit of a long shot, since Grafton would surely have arranged for a safe house. But Mick had insisted, and Dave was supposed to have sat there all night in a cold car. Sod that.

‘New job for you,’ Mick said. ‘More important. Get to Król’s flat, sharpish. Check for a camera, something like that. Take his computer and the webcam, and then sterilise the place.’

‘What’s going on? And sterilise it with what? Wet wipes?’

‘Up to you. But since the cops will be raining down on that shithole very soon, I’d try to think of a quicker way, if I were you. Let’s see if you’re a sharp tack. Plus, things have changed a lot and I would again advise you and your wife to think about getting out of this city. Even the country. I’m on a plane out of here first thing tomorrow.’

‘I’m thinking about it.’ Like hell he was. If Mick and Brad wanted to run away from their lives, so be it. He was going to do what he’d planned all along: use the money stolen from Grafton’s slush fund to buy the damn house he lived in. Ninety grand was ten feet from him, hidden in the back of his work van.

‘And what about Król? Where the hell is he? What’s he doing?’

Mick grinned. ‘Król is about to help me nail Seabury and the bitch.’ Mick repeated his order and hung up.

Dave slotted his phone away, angry. The slaughterhouse they’d left behind was going to be a treasure trove of clues, or barren as a desert in terms of evidence. The cops would have knocked on his door by now if there was evidence to nail him. They hadn’t, so there wasn’t. He was free and clear, but that might not be the case if he got further involved in this shit. So, he wasn’t going to Król’s flat. No damn way.

He noticed his wife was looking at him with raised eyebrows.

‘Everything’s fine,’ he said.

Lucinda watched him for a long moment, as if trying to read his eyes, or even his mind. ‘Good. Grab one of those.’

‘You got a pound?’

‘Didn’t that prick Mr Invincible have any coins?’ She tossed him a pound coin. As he unlocked a shopping trolley, he watched the Tesco car park for familiar faces, or strange faces scrutinising him. He did it carefully, not wanting to be obvious.

‘Stop looking for people coming after you,’ Lucinda said as she hauled the trolley out of the shelter and shoved it at him. ‘Everything’s fine, right? That was why that Mick guy just called: to say all was fine. And he knows everything. So, no one will be after you, because that wouldn’t be fine, would it? But fine it is. He said so, so it must be. All fine and dandy.’

That was why he’d tried to hide his scrutiny of the car park: Lucinda hated his paranoia. He wished he could be like her. She hadn’t worried about a single thing since he’d told her they were hitting Grafton. Not even when she’d seen the papers earlier and discovered that a simple robbery had turned into a bloodbath. Then again, she had her own reasons for it –Grafton had almost cost her her dream house a couple of years ago.

They started walking towards the shop. He could hear her breathing getting harsher – she was getting worked up about something. He said nothing.

‘Strange that he’d call you just to say everything is fine,’ she said a few seconds later. He heard the suspicion in her tone. ‘I mean, every other time he’s called, there’s been a problem and he’s called you to sort it out. But not this time, oh no. This time, when none of you know what the next problem could be, he just takes time out to say all is good, when you clearly already believed everything’s fine because that was what you said to me last night.’

He still said nothing A few steps later, though, and somewhat sheepishly: ‘Mick wanted me to do something for him. I guess we shouldn’t risk problems coming along. Perhaps I should do it. To be safe.’

She didn’t look at him. ‘Something important, probably, yet here you still stand.’

He continued to push the trolley. Then she slapped his hands off and started walking away with it.

‘Get your head on straight,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘Go do this thing before we both get in trouble. Don’t come back until everything’s fine and it’s actually true.’

As he watched her heading towards the supermarket, he vowed this would be the last time he helped Mick. After Król’s flat, he was out. He didn’t care about the woman running about out there, and he hadn’t gone after Grafton for revenge. Water under the bridge as far as he was concerned. He was in this for the money, and what was the point of robbing Grafton if he couldn’t enjoy the rewards?