“So what’s the plan?”
“Diplomacy.” He put a cigarette behind his ear, a backup in case the one in his mouth disappointed him. “We bring our principals together and have them talk through their differences. And reach a conclusion that satisfies all parties.”
“Principals?”
“Taverner and Judd.”
Shirley said, “What, get them to kiss and make out?”
“Up,” said Catherine.
Lamb said, “You know me. If I can’t bring a little sweetness and light into the world, I go to bed unhappy.”
River and Lech exchanged a look. “Are you having a stroke too?” River asked.
“You have a better idea?”
“How do you plan to get them together?” Lech said. “Given that Judd knows Taverner just tried to have him whacked.”
“Yeah, that’s where the diplomacy comes in.”
“Sounds like that’s where hostage taking comes in.”
Lamb said, “Well, you could always decide you’re happy with the way things have worked out. Or do you want me to count heads again and come up two short?”
Shirley said, “When did talking things over solve anything?”
“It’s your negative attitude that’s holding you back in life, you know. Well, that and being a short-arse with a bad haircut.”
River shook his head and leaned over the wall to study the water below. Little of it was visible beneath its shroud of algae, though a duck was unzipping a trail behind it, zigzagging slowly from one side to the other.
“You really think Taverner will do a clean-up?” Lech said.
“She’d feed a Girl Guide troop into a sausage machine to get herself off a parking ticket,” said Lamb. “So yeah. The only thing that’d stop her is knowing she’d be sticking her own head in a mincer.”
“And you think you can talk her down.”
“I may come across as being a little brusque at times, but delicate negotiation’s one of my core skills.” He farted, reasonably. “Alongside people management.”
“So what is it you want us to do?” said River.
“That’d make too long a list. Better stick to the practicalities.” Lamb looked at Roddy, who was closing his laptop. “You’re sure you’ve got them all?”
Roddy delivered his trademark pizza-eating grin, though for once, his heart didn’t seem to be in it. “Sure.” He paused, as if aware this wasn’t up to his usual standards, then added, “Fight the power.”
Lamb looked at Shirley. “I hope you’re paying attention. Here’s someone not afraid to let being a dickhead be his umbrella.” He stood. “All right, then. No plan can be said to be flawless when it relies on a bunch of workplace accidents like you lot, but you go with what you’ve got. Never let perfection be the enema of the good, and all that.”
“The enemy,” said Catherine automatically.
“Up your bum.”
“There’s a plan?” said River. “All we’ve heard is a set of vague intentions.”
“I hate to confuse you with details. It’s like trying to explain Denmark to a cat.” He paused. “That needs work. But you get my drift.” With one hand he removed the burning cigarette from his mouth while with the other he retrieved the fresh one from behind his ear. “No big worry, though. You’ll be driving a car, that’s all. Think you can manage?”
“What about me?” said Shirley.
Lamb handed her his smouldering stub. “You can do something with that. The rest of you, avoid your usual hangouts. Once Diana’s got her ducks in a row, you’re target practice. It’ll be a novelty for you, actually being useful, but if I have to start from scratch with a new bunch, it’ll put me right off my afternoon dump.”
“She’s not going to have us killed,” said Catherine. Her voice might have trembled, but her inflection didn’t rise.
“Positive attitude. Good. But bear it in mind that if she does decide to do just that, there’s less effort involved than there would have been last week. Just saying.” He looked at Ho. “You’re sure you can do this?”
Ho nodded.
“Good.” Lamb looked around at the rest of them, might have been about to add something, but didn’t. They watched while he padded along the walkway before disappearing down a stairwell.
Shirley said, “Fuck am I supposed to do with this?”
Lech took the smoking stub from her fingers, ground it out on the wall, then handed it to Catherine, who snorted, rolled her eyes, and pulled a tissue from her sleeve to wrap it in. That went into her bag, next to the greaseproof wodge. Then everyone looked at Ho, who’d put his headphones over his ears again.
It took him a while to register their interest—with his bins on, it would take him a while to register a sasquatch—but when he did he pulled them from his head, his expression half wary, half hostile. “What?”
Catherine said, “What’s Lamb got you doing, Roddy?”
“Why?”
“Because if you don’t tell us, we’ll feed you to the ducks,” said Shirley.
“Ducks don’t scare me.”
“These ducks are quite some distance below.”
“Roddy,” said River. “Louisa would want you to tell us.”
“She’s—”
“Yeah. But if she wasn’t.”
Roddy studied the headphones in his hand, as if wondering how they’d got there. Then said, “Cameras. CCTV.”
“Where?”
Before he could reply, Lech said, “Notting Hill.”
“You’re counting how many CCTV cameras there are in Notting Hill?”
