Private London

Chapter 64

I opened my eyes with a start.

The clock on my bedside cabinet read 05:59. I watched it for a few seconds and it clicked over to 06:00. The radio alarm switched on. I tapped the button to turn it off and closed my eyes again.

I did that most mornings. I don’t know why I bothered with the alarm. Since my army days I could pretty much tell myself when I wanted to wake up. And I did.

My head didn’t feel as bad as it should have done. I had drunk far too many beers. Maybe the workout had compensated.

I smiled a little. Little bit guilty. Little bit pleased with myself. Little bit confused about what I was feeling, if I’m honest.

Kirsty had gone at about four o’clock. She had been groaning when she awoke. She didn’t kiss me goodbye when she left. In fact, she didn’t say a word. I remember her picking up her boots and almost tiptoeing out of my bedroom like a naughty adolescent. I smiled briefly again but couldn’t afford the luxury of letting my thoughts linger. I opened my eyes again. Time to go to work.

I swung my legs out of bed and yawned, turning it into a shout and shaking my head as I did so. I wasn’t feeling as bad as I should have been, but there were a few cobwebs to shake loose.

An hour and fifteen minutes later and I was on the treadmill at the gym. I had already done a full workout – weights and cardiovascular – and was warming down.

Sam Riddel was on the treadmill next to me. He hadn’t had as long a workout, but then again he probably hadn’t drunk a shedload of Corona beer. Far as I knew you don’t get hangovers from mineral water. We hadn’t spoken. He’d just nodded at me and gone through his weights routine.

Sam looked across at me now. There was a slight, questioning wrinkle on his forehead.

‘You seem in a particularly good mood this morning,’ he said.

‘I just got a call from the hospital. Chloe has come out of the coma. She’s still critical. Still in intensive care, but she spoke to her mother and is sleeping naturally now.’

‘That’s great news, Dan.’

‘Word,’ I said. I can be down with my homies when I want.

He looked at me again, even more suspiciously. ‘You get your ashes hauled last night?’ he asked.

‘A gentleman never tells.’

‘Saying you did – who would the lucky lady have been?’

‘Ah…’ I said.

‘Ah?’

‘It’s a long story. And we haven’t got time,’ I said, all business now. The treadmill slowed to a walking pace and I picked up my towel and headed for the showers.

Half past eight and back in the office, I watched as Alison Chambers parked her car on the double yellow line below, tossed her keys to one of her flunkeys to park it and headed towards the building.

If she could see me watching her she didn’t show it. I wondered what she would make of what had happened with Kirsty last night. I didn’t figure I would be telling her. I also wondered what she was doing at work on a Sunday, but I guess some lawyers are like some private detectives. You stop when the work is done.

I crossed to the safe built into the wall, spun the dial and opened it. I took out the small bag containing the diamonds and put it in my pocket. A million pounds’ worth didn’t take up a lot of space. I left the shotgun in the safe, but took out the pistol and shoulder holster, hefted the gun in my hands for a moment or two and then put it back.

‘Good move,’ Sam said from the doorway.

‘But is it?’ I replied. ‘These guys are going to be carrying. If things turn nasty maybe we should have some backup. They nearly killed Chloe remember.’

‘It’s Parliament Square, Dan. Anybody starts producing hardware and nobody’s going to get very far. You got any idea of the amount of security down there?’

‘Makes me wonder why they chose it for the exchange.’

Sam shrugged. ‘It’s a big open space in the centre of London. Lots of exits, lots of entrances. They can have eyes on us from a hundred different places. We try anything and they’ll know it. There’s security all around the parliament buildings. We’re out in the open. It’s a perfect-’

I held my hand up to stop him. I had a bad feeling he was going to say killing ground.