“Yes.” She sneers. “Yourdinner will be in the dogs.” She pulls her hair free of the band, shakes it out, flicks it over her shoulder, and saunters off. “I’m taking Fury,” she yells back. “And I’ve text you your mom’s flight details so you can pick them up from the airport when you’ve seen to business for the day.”
I lift my head, watching her go, her arse cheeks very nearly poking out the bottom of her denim shorts. “Those shorts are too short!”
Two middle fingers appear and, sick fuck that I am, I smile, rubbing at my head as I stand.
“She’s a handful,” someone says.
“Higham.” I don’t look his way just in case he’s looking Rose’s way—to those peachy cheeks poking out—and I’m forced to kill him. But I do look to the cabin, seeing everyone on the steps. I throw the traitors a dirty look and trudge to the shore where it’s quieter, Higham following, along with everyone else. “What do you want?”
“Peace, Danny. You know that. I trust my intel was of use to you.”
“You mean the identities of The Leprechaun and The Chameleon?” I ask, seeing Jerry coming out of the container where The Leprechaun is being held. A week he’s been in there. For a week James has had his fun with him, and he’s not spat one word of any use, only pleas for mercy. He’s either very loyal or he really doesn’t know a thing about The Bear. I expect it’s the latter. Just a jumped-up kid who’s been offered a scrap of power and brandished it. Or tried to, until The Enigma found him. “It was fuck-all use to us,” I say, facing Higham, just catching his frown. “And we skipped The Chameleon and hit straight in on The Ox.”
“What?”
“We’ve also just discovered the identity of The Shark, so tell me, Higham,”—I tilt my head—“we need you, why?”
James wanders casually over, standing just shy of the shore now he’s fully dressed. “I’d ask if there’s any news on the whereabouts of Jaz Hayley and Carlo Black, but I expect that would be a wasted question.”
“Probably,” Higham mutters. “We all know you’re not finding those remains.” A hand rakes through his hair. “Believe it or not, I am sorry about that.”
“And Agent Burrows?” James presses, piquing my interest too. “Heard from him?”
“He took annual leave.” Higham looks between us. “Hehastaken annual leave, right?”
I feel James look out the corner of his eye to me, wary. “Your guess is as good as ours,” I say. Has James killed him and not told me?
“No,” he says, reading my mind.
I’ve had enough of today. “Are we done?” I ask as Brad, Ringo, Goldie, and Otto join us, circling, imposing.
“It’s getting harder to deflect attention from you, Danny,” Higham says. “Collins is like a dog with a bone and she’s expressing a real interest in The Brit and The Enigma.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.“She wants the ultimate trophies?” I ask, feeling James’s mood dip further.
“She wants recognition.”
“Put her on a fucking leash,” I say, getting up in his face. “You want peace in this city, you need to stand down and let me run it. If you want crime figures down, you need to let me eliminate the fuckers that are shipping in women and drugs and hiring the down-and-outs to do their dirty work.”
“I need them alive, Danny,” Higham hisses. “Otherwise, you make the figures fucking worse.”
“With no bodies, there’s no evidence. The population merely drops. I make sure there are no bodies.”
He inhales, closing his eyes. “Collins has a woman in custody,” he says on an exhale. “She was found at a rest stop on the freeway. Disorientated, dirty, foreign.”
“And?” James asks, moving in closer, risking getting his boots wet.
“She was taken from her home in Serbia. Trafficked. She escaped.” He opens his eyes. “She talked about where she was held, the languages being spoken by the men, what they looked like.”
“Polish?” James asks.
“Yes.”
“And where was she held?”
“It sounds like an airport. A factory or hangar.” Higham looks at me. “I’m just saying, Danny.” He casts his eyes over to James and the others. “If Collins brings in the Polish or the Russians, she plans on making a deal with them.”
“A deal?” Goldie says.