In the Dark by Mark Billingham Page B

slowly down to the bottom triangle and drew a line hard around the sides, the pen cutting through the napkin as he went over and over it. ‘This is where we are, which is the crucial part, you get me, T? Down here at the bottom you got your lookouts, that’s important. And then moving up a bit there’s the runners and the sellers going back and forwards all day from the street to the house, one in one out, with the money and the packages . . . And then right up near the tip of this triangle there’s the men who are holding the cash and whoever’s in charge of the stash, you with me?’
    Theo turned the napkin around and stared at it.
    â€˜And here’s the beauty part,’ Easy said. ‘Everyone can move up.’ Now he demonstrated with his hands, moving them through the air. ‘ Everyone , you listening? Moving up the sides of the triangle and further up from one fucker to the next.’ He took the napkin back and pointed. ‘Right here, just below the tip of the bottom triangle, that’s me, you get that? Number two and still climbing, OK?’
    Theo nodded, seriously doubting it.
    â€˜Up there at the top, that’s Wave. He’s like a pig in shit, for real, but there’s serious pressure up there too, man.’ Easy finished his Coke and sat back in his chair; started tearing the napkin into tiny pieces. ‘Plenty pressing down on you from up above, and plenty poking you in the arse . . .’
    They pulled the same casual drive-past at a smallish semi in Southgate, and Easy told Theo to park at the end of the road. The house was between street lamps, with no sign of an alarm.
    â€˜Sweet and simple,’ Easy said.
    He went to the boot and dragged out an empty suitcase. Pissed himself when Theo asked what it was for. ‘Well, it’s handy for bringing stuff out, you get me? And I’m thinking, you know, theirs will be in Majorca or Lanzarote or whatever, same as they are.’ He kissed his teeth and grinned. ‘And you’re supposed to be the clever one . . .’
    Once they were in the house, Easy had the DVD player in the case within a minute or two. He told Theo to stay downstairs and grab whatever else he could, while he went through the rest of the place.
    Theo knew the house was empty, but it still scared him to see Easy charging about so full of himself. He crept around the kitchen and the living room, poked through a pile of magazines on a low table. There was a small office built in under the stairs; a computer tucked under the desk, a keyboard and large monitor on top. Theo nudged at the mouse with a gloved finger and a picture appeared on the screen: a woman and three children, beaming from a swimming pool; a multicoloured lilo and the sun bouncing off the water behind them.
    A different holiday.
    Easy came thumping down the stairs and Theo stepped away from the desk. He looked at the suitcase which Easy was now carrying with both arms. ‘Decent pickings?’
    â€˜Another DVD in the kids’ room, digital radio.’ Easy slapped the suitcase. ‘Brand-new iPod in a box, man.’ He nodded to Theo. ‘You?’
    Theo pointed at the computer and shrugged. ‘Nothing portable, man. I reckon we’re done.’
    Easy looked around, then nodded and leaned in close to Theo. ‘I pissed on the bed up there.’
    Theo stepped away, grimacing. ‘That is so completely rank, man.’
    Easy was enjoying himself. ‘I never, man, fuck’s sake, what do you think?’ He hoisted up the suitcase. ‘Gonna start calling you “Toy”, T. Like one of them kid’s things . . . robots or whatever. You are so easy to wind up.’
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Helen woke at the noise of the key in the door and lay there listening to Paul coming in. The coughs and sniffs. The grunt as he dropped on to the sofa to take off his shoes.
    She heard him going into the kitchen, heard the squeak of a cupboard door, and hoped