Reece glared. Back in his own place he’d seemed vulnerable, viewing Louisa and Ho as if they were the vanguard of a hooligan brigade. Dropping Lamb’s name had changed his attitude: if he hadn’t been keen on renewing that acquaintance, he’d evidently wanted to hear what Lamb had to say. Enough, anyway, to boot up, adding an inch and a half, and wrap himself inside a donkey jacket. On the Tube, whose passengers now included Yellow Vests heading home from Oxford Circus, it was as if he’d acquired an extra layer, one which hostile looks and muttered cruelties bounced off, the same way friendly glances did. You’d need it, Louisa thought. You’d need that invisible shield.
‘So I’m here,’ he said to Lamb. ‘What do you want?’
‘Nah, I’ll wait till everyone’s back. Save me the bother of explaining things to two sets of idiots.’
‘So I just hang about until you’re ready to talk?’
Lamb beamed. ‘There. And they say midgets are slow on the uptake.’ He regarded the unlit cigarette in his fist. ‘Where the hell has Double-Ho Nothing got to?’
‘Please don’t let him hear you call him that,’ Catherine said.
‘You think I’ll hurt his feelings?’
‘I think he’ll think you mean it.’
Reece said, ‘It’s like I’ve wandered into a circus.’
‘Glad you feel at home,’ Lamb said. ‘Who’s this?’
The others tensed, but it was a full six seconds before they heard a rapping on the door. Catherine made to get up but Louisa beat her to it. It was Lech Wicinski and Shirley Dander, the latter looking rough and sleep-tousled, as if she’d grabbed some kip in the car, and been sandbagged by a hangover on arrival. Lech, though: it was hard to tell about Lech. It occurred to Louisa that having grown himself a hedge, he was learning how to hide behind it.
‘How’s River?’ she asked as she followed them into the sitting room. And then, a beat behind, ‘And Sid?’
‘Bit bedraggled. All right, though.’ Louisa waited for more, but Lech shrugged. ‘He was fine. I barely met her. Shirley spent some time.’
Shirley said, ‘She didn’t remember much about it. Being shot in the head, I mean. But she’s got a groove there.’ She indicated on her own head where it was. ‘Sort of cool, actually.’
‘And they’re not hurt?’
‘Well, they’d obviously been in a fight. But so were we earlier.’ She nodded at Lech. ‘And we got no sympathy.’
‘You beat up a stranger,’ Louisa said. ‘It’s not really the same thing.’
‘He wasn’t en
Lamb said, ‘If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s wanton acts of violence. Why aren’t that pair with you?’
‘They’re not ready to come back.’
‘“Not ready”? If I’d known I was arranging a minibreak, I’d have charged a commission. What did you do with the empties?’
This was for Lech, who said, ‘Left them in their car, at Cartwright’s house. I assume it’s secure.’
‘Why not call the Park?’ said Shirley, still looking mutinous, and fidgeting with something. ‘Isn’t cleaning away bodies their job?’
Catherine said, ‘You’re aware we have a civilian in the room?’
‘I wouldn’t worry,’ said Lamb. ‘This is going way over his head.’
‘… Does the term “punching down” mean anything to you?’
‘Be reasonable. If I punched up, I’d miss him by a mile.’
Reece said, ‘Can we move on to fat jokes now?’
Lamb looked hurt. ‘There’s no need to get personal.’
Lech said to Reece, ‘We haven’t been introduced. Lech Wicinski,’ at the same time as Shirley asked him, ‘Are you a new recruit? Because you’d fit right in.’
‘That’s not a real challenge,’ Lamb said. ‘And if you’re finished with the small talk, could we get on point?’ He paused. ‘Small talk? Anyone?’
Catherine shook her head wearily, and tried again. ‘Should we really be discussing this in front of Mr Nesmith?’
‘Well, he started off knowing more than the rest of us,’ went on Lamb, ‘on account of his boyfriend being murdered by the Russians. Ah, the return of Macho Mouse.’ This because Ho was at the door. Once he’d been let in, Lamb said, ‘I sent you to buy a lighter, not invent one.’
Ho blinked. ‘The shops weren’t open.’
‘Why is it I only hear excuses? Give it here. You can keep the change.’
‘… I used my own money?’
‘Let’s have the receipt, then.’
Ho handed it over.
‘Thanks.’ Lamb lit the receipt with the lighter, the cigarette with the receipt, and dropped the flaming scrap of paper on the floor. ‘Where was I?’
‘It might be good if we didn’t burn the house down,’ Catherine suggested.
Reece trod on the scrap and killed the flame. ‘These dead people. The ones in the car. They’re not who killed Andrey back in Moscow?’
‘Doubt it. It’s not like the GRU’s short of talent.’ Lamb studied his cigarette for a moment. ‘But the man who gave the order’s the one who pointed a hit squad at Slough House, so we have a common foe. And you know what they say about common foes, Noddy?’
‘Do they say you can go fuck yourself?’
‘He’s funny,’ said Shirley. ‘Can we keep him?’
‘I know who’ll end up having to take him for walks,’ Lamb said. ‘What’re you fidgeting with, anyway?’
It was a plastic lighter. ‘Found it on the pavement,’ she said.
