Page 19 of Savage Justice

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Page 19 of Savage Justice

“She goes about once a month as a rule so probably not for a couple of weeks, but I could get her to bring it forward.”

“Do that.”

“Or, better still, I have his phone. That arsewipe in the white van.”

“You do?” Ethan kooks impressed.

So am I.

“Remember, I took it from him that day, to stop him calling for help before the police could get there? I still have it somewhere. Give me five minutes…” He leaves the kitchen to locate the device and returns shortly after. “Here it is. Battery’s flat.”

We produce a Samsung charger and plug it in. It takes a couple more minutes before there’s enough charge in there to fire it up, but the device is security protected, so we can’t get any further.

“This is a job for young Frankie. I’ll take it over to him tomorrow.” Aaron pockets the device. “Is that all we can do for tonight? I’d like to get a shower. I’m covered in that fucker’s blood.”

Even though we’ve all been up half the night, some of us still have work to do the next morning. It’s Saturday, but a working day all the same. The deal over the Japanese motors needs signing, and the money has to change hands. A meeting is set up for eleven a.m. at a nightclub we run in the centre of Glasgow. The Blue Diamond is hopping between about ten at night and four in the morning, but in the middle of the day it’s deserted. The perfect place for a private rendezvous. Ethan and I are due to leave by about half past nine, but we have time for a hit of caffeine before we go.

My boss is already in the kitchen when I arrive, suited and booted for the day’s business. The percolator is gurgling nicely. I check the sliced loaf on the table for signs of mould, find it’s okay so drop a couple of slices in the toaster. “Want some?” I ask Ethan.

“No, I’m fine.” There’s an empty cereal bowl in front of him. Ethan Savage likes his cornflakes. “Any sign of life up there?”

“You mean Molly? No, not yet.”

He shrugs. Talking to her can wait. Tony chooses that moment to join us, his foster son, Robbie, at his heels.

“Ethan!” Robbie squeals.

Robbie adores Ethan Savage almost as much as he adores Tony and Jenna. His passion is chess, an interest he and Ethan share. They play together whenever Robbie is at Caraksay, and it seems Robbie sees no reason why they shouldn’t play at Caernbro Ghyll, too. He produces a set from one of the kitchen drawers and sets up the board.

Ethan checks his watch. “Okay. Twenty minutes. If you haven’t beaten me by then we’ll photograph the board and set up again when I get back.”

“You won’t last twenty minutes,” Robbie crows. “I’m white.”

I’m not convinced that Ethan isn’t letting him win. Ten minutes in, and Ethan is down two bishops and a rook, with his king being threatened by the white queen and a knight.

“Check,” Robbie declares, and not for the first time.

“Fu—” Ethan mutters, shifting his king one space to the left.

“Check again.” Robbie swoops in with his second knight. “Checkmate next time.”

Ethan scowls at the board. “Bloody hell. He’s right.”

“Told you.” Robbie is delighted with himself. “I’ll set them up again.”

“Okay, you do that.” Ethan glances past Robbie to the open door. “Good morning, Lucy.”

The little girl, still in her now rather grubby nightdress, is standing in the doorway.

Robbie turns to glare at her. “Who are you?” he demands. Robbie is somewhat lacking in social graces and is definitely not the most tactful kid on two legs.

“This is Lucy. She’s staying with us for a while.” Ethan gestures to a spare chair. “Do you want some breakfast, Lucy?”

She sits down but remains silent. I decide to drop more bread in the toaster anyway.

Tony pours a glass of orange juice for Robbie and puts one in front of Lucy, too. She sips it slowly, watching the chess game unfolding.

“Do you play chess, Lucy?” Ethan asks.




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