Take Two

CHAPTER 33

Richards climbed into the back of the Porsche and lit a cigar. ‘How did it go?” asked Halpin, twisting around in his seat.

Richards shrugged. ‘I’m having lunch with her on Friday.’

‘You met her?’

‘Sat down next to her, closer to her than I am to you.’

‘And?’

Richards shrugged again. ‘I’m not sure.’

‘You’re not sure? How can you not be sure? Either she recognised you or she didn’t. Did she say anything?’

‘Chit chat. That’s all.’

‘Chit chat?’

‘Chit chat.’ Richards wound down the window and blew smoke. ‘What did you expect her to say? Point her finger at me and scream “murderer!” That was never going to happen.’

‘Did she recognise you, boss? I need to know because if she recognised you then she’ll recognise me.’

‘I don’t know. She looked me in the eye and smiled like she wanted to suck my dick, but I don’t know if she recognised me. She’s an actress and a bloody good one.’

‘This is fucked up, boss. We need to know one way or another.’

Richards narrowed his eyes. ‘You think I don’t know that?’

‘That’s not what I’m saying, boss. But you’re playing a dangerous game here.’

‘A game? You’re saying I think this is a game?’

Halpin shook his head. ‘That’s not what I’m saying boss.’ He started the engine. ‘Home?’

‘Nah, hang on a minute. I’m waiting for someone.’

‘Not her?’

Richards laughed. ‘No, not her.’ He took a long pull on his cigar and then slowly blew smoke through the window. ‘I know how important this is,’ he said. ‘If she has recognised me and goes to the cops, I’m screwed.’

‘Her word against ours. And the body’s at the bottom of the North Sea.’

‘Which means they’ll have us under surveillance, twenty-four seven. And I can’t afford that. Cohen ripped off all my working capital and I’ve got bills to pay. I’m going to have to get busy with The Mint and I can’t do that if I’ve got Five-O breathing down my neck.’

‘The Mint?’

‘Murray Wainwright. He’s an old mate of mine, over from Spain. He’s connected to some of the biggest dope smugglers in Morocco. I’m sounding him out about the possibility of funding a few shipments. But I’m not going to be able to do that with the cops on my back.’

‘So what’s the plan?’ asked Halpin.

‘I think we’re in the clear. There’s been nothing in the papers, no photo-fits or descriptions or anything. And if she had gone to the cops, that’d be in the papers, too. They couldn’t keep a lid on something like that.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Halpin.

‘So that means that, for whatever reason, she hasn’t talked to the cops. And I’m fairly sure from the way she behaved that she didn’t recognise me. I’ll see how we get on over lunch, and if she’s the same then it probably means we’re in the clear.’

‘And if we’re not?’

‘If we’re not and she did see us in Cohen’s house then she’ll be talking to the cops tonight and we’ll know soon enough. Like you said, it’d be her word against ours and we’ve both got cast iron alibis. They haven’t got a body and, other than her, there’s no one to say we were in Cohen’s house. Everything else is circumstantial.’

‘We both know people who’ve gone down on circumstantial evidence.’

‘True. But if she goes to the cops and identifies us, then she puts herself in the firing line. Without her, they’ll have no case at all.’

‘So we wait and see?’

Richards took a long pull on his cigar, blew smoke, and then nodded. ‘That’s it exactly,’ he said. ‘We’ll cross our chickens as and when we come to them.’

The blonde PR who had taken his cheque walked out of the hotel and waved at him. She was wearing a long blue coat that flapped in the wind.

‘Nice,’ said Halpin.

‘Eyes front,’ said Richards, opening the door for the girl. ‘And ears closed.’