felt like an idiot, spelling it out, but Greg must have been a moron to think no one would notice something was missing.
Greg’s face contorted, as if he were weighing up his options. So Thomas upped the ante.
“Jack Langton’s wife spotted the case was light and Jack won’t be pleased if she has to tell him. It’s better for everyone if you hand it over.”
Greg folded. “I was nosing round the flat when Janey was out and there it was. I just did it, spur of the moment.”
“So where is the bag now?”
“I sold it.”
“You did what?” Janey piped up, shrill as a cry of pain.
Greg turned towards her. “You know I got debts. It seemed like a golden opportunity — a lucky break, yeah?”
“And what if Jack thinks I did it?” She gripped the sofa.
“I was gonna take care of it. Once I had a buyer for the rest, I was gonna make it look like a burglary while you and me was at the hospital. Ain’t no one gonna report a missing stash, are they?”
Thomas was halfway impressed; Greg had a few brain cells after all. “Who did you sell it to?”
“I can’t tell you; I gave my word. Don’t look at me like that, Janey — I did it for us. We can get away and start over.”
“Are you mental, Greg? Jack’ll come after us. He knows my family.” Her voice could have scratched glass.
Thomas waited, trying to stare it out of him. “It’s this simple, Greg. You tell me now and we’ll try and sort this, or Natalie tells Jack and he sorts things out his own way. What’s it to be?”
Janey started crying. Thomas squeezed his hands together: we’ll try and sort this . Jesus, he could feel Karl’s disappointment emanating from the door.
“Charlie Stokes — I sold it to Mr Stokes.”
Thomas heard a bell go off in his head. Karl cleared his throat and mimicked pushing a buggy.
“Yeah.” Thomas’s brain clicked into gear. “Janey, we want to take Jacob’s buggy away for a closer look — we’ll have it back to you before he needs it.”
She did as asked, muttering that the police had already checked it.
He stood right over Greg. “How much did you get for it?”
“Five grand, minus what I owed.”
Thomas shot a glance to Karl, who shook his head and flashed up enough hands for Thomas to feel sick. Greg was indeed a moron; they’d never be able to buy it back for five thousand.
He let out a sigh that could wake the dead. “Right, we are out of here.”
“What about the missing bag?” Janey’s voice wavered.
He didn’t have the heart to tell her they were both fucked now, thanks to Greg, so he sold her a lie until he could think of something better. “We’ll work on it.”
Karl stayed tight-lipped until they were back on the road.
“Go on, say it.”
“Do I need to? You’re getting us involved in a shit storm that’s nothing to do with us, Tommy Boy. Unless you have a five figure sum stashed away — always assuming this Charlie Stokes hasn’t already moved the stuff on — we’ve got nothing.”
He wondered where the drop-off would be for the buggy. Going on past experience, Karl’s clandestines favoured supermarket car parks. He played the counting game, watching the seconds tick by until Karl broke the silence.
“You can’t save Greg from his own stupidity, and to be frank with you I don’t hold with drugs. I’ve told you before, they’re one of the ways the European cartel funds its operations.” Karl looked pensive. “There’s something else we haven’t considered — the drugs might not be Jack’s at all.”
“You know something, don’t you?” It was a moment before he realised his knuckles were whitening as he crushed them together.
Karl had spotted it too. “Tell you what, how about we grab ourselves a drink and go do our thinking somewhere else? I know the perfect place.”
Chapter 12
The pub’s lights streamed across the pavement, highlighting the scarlet paintwork. Thomas recognised it from the time Karl had taken him there before. He rubbed
Greg’s face contorted, as if he were weighing up his options. So Thomas upped the ante.
“Jack Langton’s wife spotted the case was light and Jack won’t be pleased if she has to tell him. It’s better for everyone if you hand it over.”
Greg folded. “I was nosing round the flat when Janey was out and there it was. I just did it, spur of the moment.”
“So where is the bag now?”
“I sold it.”
“You did what?” Janey piped up, shrill as a cry of pain.
Greg turned towards her. “You know I got debts. It seemed like a golden opportunity — a lucky break, yeah?”
“And what if Jack thinks I did it?” She gripped the sofa.
“I was gonna take care of it. Once I had a buyer for the rest, I was gonna make it look like a burglary while you and me was at the hospital. Ain’t no one gonna report a missing stash, are they?”
Thomas was halfway impressed; Greg had a few brain cells after all. “Who did you sell it to?”
“I can’t tell you; I gave my word. Don’t look at me like that, Janey — I did it for us. We can get away and start over.”
“Are you mental, Greg? Jack’ll come after us. He knows my family.” Her voice could have scratched glass.
Thomas waited, trying to stare it out of him. “It’s this simple, Greg. You tell me now and we’ll try and sort this, or Natalie tells Jack and he sorts things out his own way. What’s it to be?”
Janey started crying. Thomas squeezed his hands together: we’ll try and sort this . Jesus, he could feel Karl’s disappointment emanating from the door.
“Charlie Stokes — I sold it to Mr Stokes.”
Thomas heard a bell go off in his head. Karl cleared his throat and mimicked pushing a buggy.
“Yeah.” Thomas’s brain clicked into gear. “Janey, we want to take Jacob’s buggy away for a closer look — we’ll have it back to you before he needs it.”
She did as asked, muttering that the police had already checked it.
He stood right over Greg. “How much did you get for it?”
“Five grand, minus what I owed.”
Thomas shot a glance to Karl, who shook his head and flashed up enough hands for Thomas to feel sick. Greg was indeed a moron; they’d never be able to buy it back for five thousand.
He let out a sigh that could wake the dead. “Right, we are out of here.”
“What about the missing bag?” Janey’s voice wavered.
He didn’t have the heart to tell her they were both fucked now, thanks to Greg, so he sold her a lie until he could think of something better. “We’ll work on it.”
Karl stayed tight-lipped until they were back on the road.
“Go on, say it.”
“Do I need to? You’re getting us involved in a shit storm that’s nothing to do with us, Tommy Boy. Unless you have a five figure sum stashed away — always assuming this Charlie Stokes hasn’t already moved the stuff on — we’ve got nothing.”
He wondered where the drop-off would be for the buggy. Going on past experience, Karl’s clandestines favoured supermarket car parks. He played the counting game, watching the seconds tick by until Karl broke the silence.
“You can’t save Greg from his own stupidity, and to be frank with you I don’t hold with drugs. I’ve told you before, they’re one of the ways the European cartel funds its operations.” Karl looked pensive. “There’s something else we haven’t considered — the drugs might not be Jack’s at all.”
“You know something, don’t you?” It was a moment before he realised his knuckles were whitening as he crushed them together.
Karl had spotted it too. “Tell you what, how about we grab ourselves a drink and go do our thinking somewhere else? I know the perfect place.”
Chapter 12
The pub’s lights streamed across the pavement, highlighting the scarlet paintwork. Thomas recognised it from the time Karl had taken him there before. He rubbed
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