‘Obviously,’ Ryan says.
‘Is it – obvious?’
‘My brother …’
‘Yes, the brother,’ Leo says. ‘Tell us more about the brother.’ He sits forward, his eyes shining strangely.
‘I did disclose him to HR and vetting,’ Ryan says, panicking.
Leo makes an impatient gesture. ‘I know. I waved it through. I’m not suspicious. It’s helpful to us – your brother. Who better to work out the who’s who of a gang than someone who’s witnessed how these people operate?’
‘I see …’ Ryan says slowly.
‘So – would his ops be separate, too?’
‘Yes, always. Like, you’d never use a stolen car to import drugs. You’d get nicked immediately.’
‘Right,’ Leo says. ‘Right. Can you tell us more about him? He was quite a lot older than you – right? But same dad?’ Question after question after question.
‘Don’t mind Leo,’ Jamie says drily. ‘He has a one-track mind when he gets going.’
‘Answers, please,’ Leo says.
‘Yes,’ Ryan says. ‘Okay, well … a fair bit older than me, yes. He got mixed up in some stuff. I don’t know, we were quite … we were quite angry, I guess. He’s always – we both always – have had this ambition. But his became a bit misguided. He needed money, and he started dealing drugs.’
‘What drugs? Just so we can talk – you know. Skill sets.’
‘Well – he just … er, he just progressed in a totally clichéd way. Puff, then coke, then gear.’
‘Did he bring the gear home?’ Leo watches Ryan intently.
‘Sometimes.’
‘Did you see it?’
‘I mean, yeah,’ Ryan says, blinking.
‘If we had some gear now, how would you open it?’
‘Like a cracker,’ Ryan says, without even having to think about it.
‘Exactly!’ Leo exclaims. He thumps the table. Leo frightens Ryan. He might indeed be one of those crazy-genius types. Or he might just be mad.
‘I helped him a lot. It invades your life, gear, doesn’t it? I was curious. In the end’ – Ryan gives a despairing laugh – ‘I was fucking cutting it with him.’
‘Good. Good knowledge to have.’
Ryan says nothing, about as confused as he’s ever been.
Leo glances at Jamie, then speaks. ‘We’ll have a job for you, after your research,’ Leo says. He picks his tea up and finishes it in three noisy gulps. He places it on the table. ‘If you’re interested.’
‘Very,’ Ryan says, looking directly at Leo.
‘We need someone brainy. Know why? This gang has probably got a nerd in it. Right? Someone who’s working stuff out for them. Some sort of foot soldier.’
‘Okay.’
‘So we need our own nerd,’ Leo says, reaching over to touch Ryan lightly on the shoulder, ‘to analyse that information. Not only that, we need a nerd who actually knows how this shit works. We know three of the dealers, but none of the car thieves. We need their names, faces, how they relate to each other. A big old family tree of crime. You up for that?’ He gestures to the corkboard. ‘So your task is to watch every minute of that CCTV and see who brings the cars. Okay?’
‘Oh right, yeah,’ Ryan says. He becomes aware of his heartbeat. A strong, clean, excited thudding in his chest.
‘Then when we know who they are and their movements, we’ll catch them in the act. You know – as close to entrapment as we can while staying legal,’ he says easily.
Even Ryan’s arms and legs feel excited, as if he could get up and do star jumps. Finally, something that fucking matters. Something that he might be good at. Something where he could change the world.
Leo grabs the corkboard and sets it on the desk. Ryan loves the drama of it. The cut and thrust of policing. Here he is: home. Leo pins the piece of paper on the board and on it he writes a name. ‘This bloke works at the port. And he’s bent. Turns a blind eye and allows stolen cars on. We got him on the very corner of CCTV. Haven’t nicked him yet as we want to see what sort of cog he is in the machine. All right?’
Ryan looks at the paper pinned up there: Ezra Michaels.
‘See who brings the cars to Ezra. Okay?’ Leo says.
‘And then …’ Ryan says, looking up at Leo hopefully. ‘Once we know a bit more about them … I mean’ – he gestures to Leo’s scruffy clothes, to Jamie’s hat – ‘I’ve got your department right, haven’t I? Covert?’
‘Yes,’ Leo says simply, communicating something that, until now, has remained unsaid. ‘Undercover.’
Day Minus Thirteen, 19:00
A police car followed Todd home today. Jen is sure of it. She thinks of the car that drove past Clio’s, twice.
It’s the evening now, and Todd and Kelly are sitting opposite each other. The lamp on the breakfast bar is on, the sky a lit-up pewter beyond the doors.
The trees outside have more leaves on them. What just a few days ago was a thick collection on their patio is now a cluster of bright red flags, back in their spots on the trees.
‘Good evening, squire,’ Todd addresses her. ‘We’re talking about Schr?dinger’s cat.’
Jen spent the morning at work, pretending to be normal. She had an initial meeting with a new client, who she knows tells her in a few meetings’ time that she doesn’t want to leave her husband, after all. Jen took far fewer notes this time.
Todd’s eating a Chinese takeaway out of the box, like an American, except it isn’t in a kitsch carton with chopsticks in it but a plastic Tupperware container. Bless his heart.
Kelly widens his eyes at Jen across the breakfast bar. ‘We are not,’ he says with a laugh. ‘You were. I was eating wings.’
‘I’m not sure Dad is your best audience,’ Jen says, and she hears the perfect little amused exhale that is her husband’s laugh.
‘What happened with the Venus and Mars project?’ Kelly asks.
Todd inches his phone out of his pocket and passes it to Kelly. The first time Jen lived this day, she was at work. Didn’t know anything about this project.
Kelly reads Todd’s phone for a few seconds, then says, ‘Ah – an A! A for astrophysics prodigy.’
‘A for Alexander Kuzemsky,’ Todd says.
‘Can you speak English?’ Jen asks.
‘He is a great physicist,’ Todd says. ‘This assignment.’ He passes her his phone.
‘Well done,’ she says sincerely. She starts to read the assignment with interest, partly wondering if it might contain some science that might help her, but Todd takes the phone off her.
‘Really, don’t worry about it.’
‘I’m interested!’
‘You never usually are,’ Todd shoots back.
A guilty stone arrives in her stomach. Maternal guilt, that thing she has tried to work against for much of her life, but that always – always – sits there anyway. You never usually are.
‘You all right?’ Kelly says with a laugh. ‘You look like the Grim Reaper.’
Todd snorts into his takeaway while Jen dishes hers out.