‘If you break into someone’s house at midnight, it’s probably polite to answer a few questions. A common courtesy.’ This was the guy who introduced himself as Ibrahim. The one who works with Connie Johnson. He is taking notes.
‘It’s a bit grubby, isn’t it? Heroin dealing?’ This is Elizabeth again, her gun on her lap. What’s her story? Mitch knows everyone in the business, but he doesn’t know her.
A smaller woman, in a green cardigan, leans forward. ‘Mr Maxwell. We didn’t ask you to come here. That was your choice.’
‘Quite so, Joyce,’ says Elizabeth. ‘You beat up our friend –’
‘He didn’t beat me up,’ says Ron.
‘Well, let’s see if your GP agrees with that tomorrow,’ says Elizabeth. ‘Now, you’ll notice, Mr Maxwell, we don’t give two hoots about how tough you are; we’ve dealt with an awful lot worse than you.’
‘You are barely top ten,’ says Ibrahim. ‘And, believe me, I have a top ten.’
‘If I might make an observation, it seems we have a common goal, Mr Maxwell,’ says Elizabeth. ‘We want to find out who killed Kuldesh, and you want to find your heroin. Correct?’
‘I want my goods back,’ says Mitch. ‘
‘Oh, God,’ says Elizabeth. ‘Spare us the euphemisms; we’re not children or police officers. Call heroin heroin.’
‘I need my heroin back,’ confirms Mitch. ‘It’s in a little terracotta box, it’s worth a lot of money, and it’s mine.’
‘Morally you must find heroin dealing unsettling?’ says Ibrahim.
‘Says the guy who works for Connie Johnson,’ counters Mitch. ‘Listen, I have a simple question before we go any further. Who are you?’
‘I’m Joyce,’ says Joyce.
‘And we are all friends of Joyce,’ adds Ibrahim. ‘So, with that cleared up, let us ask you a few more questions, just so we can get to know you a little. So we feel we can trust you.’
Mitch throws his hands up. ‘Go on, then.’
‘Are you proud of being a heroin smuggler?’ Elizabeth asks him again.
‘I’m proud of my success,’ says Mitch, realizing he’s never really thought about this before. ‘But, I guess, no. I just fell into it, and then I was good at it.’
‘You could do something else?’ suggests Joyce. ‘IT?’
‘I’m nearly fifty,’ says Mitch.
How dearly he would love to give all this up. When he finds the heroin, that’s it. He’s quitting.
‘Have you ever been to prison?’ asks Ibrahim.
‘No,’ says Mitch.
‘Have you ever been arrested?’ asks Joyce.
‘Many times,’ says Mitch.
‘Have you ever killed anyone?’ asks Ron.
‘If I went around admitting to killing people, I would have been to prison, wouldn’t I?’ reasons Mitch.
‘Is your hip all right, Ron?’ Joyce asks.
‘My hip is fine,’ says Ron.
‘And the biggest question of all,’ says Elizabeth. ‘Who killed Kuldesh Sharma? You?’
Mitch smiles. ‘You’ll have to try harder than that.’
‘More whisky?’ asks Ibrahim.
Mitch declines. He’s got to drive back to Hertfordshire in a bit, and he has a semi-automatic weapon in his boot, so he wouldn’t want to get pulled over for drunk driving.
‘A simpler question, then,’ says Elizabeth. ‘Who else knew about the box with the heroin?’
‘A few Afghans,’ says Mitch. ‘But no one who’d need to steal it. A middleman who saw the drugs into Moldova – but he’s one of my guys.’
‘His name?’ asks Ibrahim, making notes.
‘Lenny,’ says Mitch.
‘Someone here has just had a great-grandson called Lenny,’ says Joyce. ‘Names come back around, don’t they?’
‘Where might we find him?’ asks Ibrahim.
‘Dom will have his number,’ says Mitch.
‘Ah, our friend Dom,’ says Elizabeth. ‘He also knows everything of course? You must have asked yourself whether he stole the heroin himself? Whether he set Kuldesh up as the fall guy?’
Mitch shakes his head. ‘He knows everything, but I trust him with my life.’
‘But he knew what was in the box. He delivered the box. He met Kuldesh?’
‘And it’s a lot of money,’ says Joyce.
‘Not in the grand scheme of things,’ says Mitch.
‘You make more money than him though,’ says Ron. ‘A hundred grand’s still a lot for Dom.’
‘Is it tax free?’ Ibrahim asks. ‘Yes, it must be. I’m answering my own question. Do you know when you win money on quiz shows, that’s all tax free too? Something quiz shows and heroin smuggling have in common.’
Everyone waits until they are absolutely sure that Ibrahim has finished.
‘Everyone’s loyal until they’re not,’ says Ron.
‘I don’t see it,’ says Mitch. ‘Sorry.’
‘Anyone else you might steer us in the direction of?’ asks Elizabeth. ‘You were selling the heroin, but who was buying it?’
‘Nope,’ says Mitch. ‘You’ve got all you’re going to get from me.’
‘For now,’ says Ibrahim.
‘Can I ask a couple of questions?’ says Mitch. ‘Before I go?’
They all seem happy with this prospect. So he turns, first, to Ibrahim.
‘Do you really work for Connie Johnson?’
‘I do,’ confirms Ibrahim.
‘What do you do for her?’
‘I can’t tell you,’ says Ibrahim.
‘That bad, eh?’ says Mitch. He then addresses Elizabeth. ‘And you. Why do you have a gun?’
Elizabeth gives a quizzical smile. ‘Why do I have a gun? To shoot people with.’
Jesus. Mitch turns to Ron. ‘Did I really hurt your hip?’
Ron nods. ‘Course you did. I’m an old man, you idiot.’
