Adrian Magson - No Sleep for the Dead

Riley shrugged. If this was all about chest thumping, she might as well do some of her own. ‘Maybe not. But he got past your boys in the street. Believe me, for him, that’s close enough.’ As she saw the realisation that he had a dangerous opponent inside his headquarters sink home on the gang leader’s face, she hoped that whatever Mitcheson had in his bag was a bit more heavyweight than dusters or dish mops.

Riley could have sworn the room temperature dropped by a couple of degrees, and hoped she hadn’t pushed it too far. She’d gone over the situation with Palmer and Szulu on the way down, trying to figure out how they might gain Ragga’s co-operation instead of the alternative. This was, according to Szulu, his sudden and unpredictable fury. The best they could hope for was some information about Lottie’s condition and whereabouts. Without it, they would have to assume the worst… or keep looking over their shoulders for a long time to come. Szulu’s advice had been to play it straight, as there was no knowing how Ragga would react. If he thought he was being manipulated, the outcome could be disastrous. And that was ignoring whether he’d got up in a bad mood or not.

‘But let’s think positively, shall we?’ she continued calmly, twisting open the Coke and taking a sip. ‘I obviously didn’t come here without letting anyone else know.’

Ragga sneered at her. ‘You mean the guy in the car? Yeah, like he’ll be a lot of help. He’d have to get down here first — and he ain’t getting past nobody.’ He exchanged a look with Slam before settling himself deeper into his chair. If he was enjoying a feeling of superiority, it was tinged with the sourness of knowing his defences had already proved suspect, although he wasn’t about to show it.

Riley waited. This wasn’t going the way they’d hoped. She had at least expected a bit more discussion before this big ape went all hairy-chested on her. But she was damned if she was going to let him see how concerned she was. ‘He’s done it before. Anyway,’ she used the tip of her finger to wipe condensation from the side of the bottle, ‘he’s the one you spotted.’

Ragga’s chair creaked faintly, and she felt a childish twinge of triumph as she caught the flash of a glance he threw at his colleague, before adding, ‘But there’s really no need for aggravation here. I’m after some information that could save us both a lot of trouble. Call it business.’

Ragga said nothing, his face stilled as if he’d gone into a trance.

‘Lottie Grossman,’ Riley continued. ‘You probably know her as Mrs Fraser. She came to you for help and you gave her Szulu. I understand you might know where she is.’

Ragga seemed to surface from wherever he’d gone, and gave her a look that was suddenly more calculating than superior. ‘Who says so? That man Szulu been talking out of turn?’ The softness of his voice and the slowness of the delivery caused a trickle of unease to inch across Riley’s shoulders, and she hoped Szulu’s name hadn’t been slotted back into Ragga’s bad books. Szulu himself had been confident this wouldn’t happen, but now she was faced with the man himself and had seen the way his mood could change in a heartbeat, she suddenly wasn’t so sure.

‘Not to me,’ she said firmly, meeting his eyes with a steady look. ‘We were behind you in Egham. We watched your two men transfer Lottie from Szulu’s car to yours. She didn’t look very well to me. Shame. All Szulu did was to arrange this meeting when my colleagues asked him to.’

If Ragga was surprised, he hid it with a dismissive bark of laughter. ‘Right. You followed us to Egham. No way.’ He shook his head, but shot a mean look across at Slam, who shifted uneasily on his feet. Suddenly they were back on an even keel.

‘Didn’t happen, man,’ the big man by the door muttered. But he didn’t look quite so confident anymore. ‘Just didn’t. I’d have seen her.’

‘We were following Szulu, actually,’ Riley explained, switching tack slightly to press home her advantage and ease off from a direct confrontation. ‘You don’t remember a black Golf?’ Before either of them could answer, she forged on. ‘Szulu wasn’t watching his back, which was how you were able to block him in so easily. Okay, I admit it was only when you made your move that we realised you were in the area, but what the heck.’ She gave a shrug as if conceding the point, hoping the implied flattery would work. It did.

Ragga sniffed. ‘Yeah, well, that Szulu’s no expert, is he? So why’s the old woman so interesting? She owe you money?’

Riley gave him a summary of Lottie’s background, during which Ragga’s expression shifted from startled to plain sceptical. He shook his head when she finished speaking and drummed with his fingers on the arms of the chair, jutting his chin forward as he considered what she had told him.

‘You saying that old pensioner, that ugly old woman was a gang boss? She ran a bunch of men? No way.’ He laughed, showing pink gums and a lot of white teeth. ‘You must think I’m stupid.’

Over by the door, Slam sniggered in support of his boss.

‘Okay. Check the stick.’

Ragga looked doubtful, but finally sat forward and inserted the stick into a USB port in the rear of the laptop. He looked at her over the open lid. ‘This ain’t got a virus, has it? If it has, you going to regret it, I promise.’

Riley shook her head and sipped the Coke, trying not to spill any. She’d forgotten relief could have the same weakening effects as fear, although she knew she wasn’t out of the woods yet.

Moments later, she could tell that Ragga was studying a copy of the feature she had written about Lottie Grossman and her activities, tracking her gang’s movements from London to Spain and back. It made startling reading, and the only sound in the room was the hum of the laptop’s fan and the click of keys as Ragga scrolled down the pages. Eventually, he finished reading and closed the laptop. He looked at Riley and said, ‘That’s pretty cool. You just can’t tell with people, right? Did you know she tried to steal something from me? I couldn’t believe it. Now I know how she had the balls. Man, I should have known there was something about her.’ He shook his head. ‘And she really had these squaddies working for her? What were they — SAS or something?’ The idea seemed to amuse him, and Riley could guess why: Ragga Pearl might control the streets around here, but he’d never had genuine soldiers under his command. It would probably appeal to his ego-driven sense of power and status in the neighbourhood. No doubt it was something he would try to rectify sooner or later.

‘Ex-Royal Marines, actually,’ she said. ‘They killed a few people before they were stopped.’

‘Stopped by you? But you’re a journalist.’ He didn’t need to add that she was also a woman; it was blatant in the look he gave her.

‘True. But I had some help — also former soldiers. Fight fire with fire, is my motto.’

He nodded slowly. ‘Like the former military cop you hang with, right? Palmer? He the one up the street?’ When Riley nodded, too surprised to speak when she realised he already had Palmer’s name, he added, ‘Nice work.’ He stared at the ceiling and she wondered whether he was trying to work out what had transpired with Lottie Grossman or how to turn the present situation to his best advantage.

She decided to help him out. ‘After the Spain thing, we thought Lottie had gone to ground for good, or maybe died. She was mixed up with some very dangerous people over there, and crossing them was stupid. Our mistake was forgetting about her. Lottie has a long memory and can’t stand being bested.’ She shrugged. ‘We just want to know where she is so we can watch our backs.’