15. Zane

Chapter fifteen

Zane

P acing the floor in my home office makes me feel more frustrated but it distracts my feet. Alex and Jasmine are off exploring, but I can't disturb them. My phone has been ringing non-stop for the last twenty minutes. I have to go in, which means making the difficult phone call to Marcus.

"Dad, I'm guessing you've been called in," Marcus concludes as he answers the phone. "I'm not sure what's going on anymore. I thought this was about one of the bar staff stealing drugs, but now Lenny's found this whole thing with the drug cutters."

Many different people have relayed this whole ‘thing with the cutters' to me over the past hour, each with their own idea of what is going on. I need to work this all out.

"I need to come in and fix this."

"Yeah, I know." Marcus gives the heavy sign that always comes with sorting childcare between us.

"I can bring Alex with me or leave him here with my lady friend."

"Dad, how can you even consider leaving him with a stranger?"

"The choice is entirely yours, son. But I trust her. I found someone I want to be with for the first time since your mother-"

"Dad, I don't need to know about your sex life." But there is a little pride in his tone. "Maybe if I'd met her. Or at least knew her name."

"Jasmine Morgan." Speaking her name sounds like a betrayal, but she can't hide here forever.

"Swirly-girly from Desmond's shithole?" Marcus chuckles. "The one who can't dance for toffee?"

"She reminds me of your mother," I admit.

"Why do you think I remember her out of all the girls who dance in those places?" Marcus chuckles. "Ok, he can stay, but you have to put the alarm on."

"I'll call someone to sit outside the house."

"Dad, William is… I think they're going to hang him."

Shit.

"I'll call Ronan. Don't let them do anything until I'm there." There are rules about killing within the family. Knox may be a wild card, but even he has to follow the family rules. If either of the Thayers wants to kill one of our own, they need my approval. Obviously, that doesn't stop them if they have it in for someone, but they usually try to convince me first. William is one of my first choices to have my back when I need to ruffle feathers in the criminal world. I don't have friends, but he'd be considered one of them if I did.

It doesn't take long to explain the situation to Jasmine or as much of it as she needs to know to excuse me from the house. My security arrangements are made clear to her; they are as much for her protection as for Alex's. As soon as Ronan pulls up on the drive, I leave.

Knox has people questioning everyone, from the street runners to the guys in the cutting plants. The most bizarre thing is that no one knows what they are looking for.

Lenny and Marcus are together at the meeting point, along with Tony Parker and Roland Sullivan. Tony is an unimposing guy, who is far better with numbers than with people. Roland is a good guy, and I've played many rounds of poker with him at Gavriil's house. I'd be surprised if either of these two had done anything wrong. But if they have, the Thayers are not known for their forgiveness.

"I'm not sure what anyone is looking for, but I've gone back over the books and I think I've found something odd." Tony offers me a huge ledger that I have to rest on the table to steady. Everything is listed carefully; nothing is kept on a computer for fear of hackers. It's easier to burn physical documents if things go bad. The lists are consistent, and various different handwriting log nineteen bricks in. The number of street ready doses going out is in the thousands, each one varying slightly. That's normal, there is always a little variation there. The next line records the money back in, the slight variances matching the previous column.

"You'll have to explain what I'm looking at here." I shrug my shoulders in defeat.

"It's always nineteen bricks coming in."

"Isn't that what we order each time?" I frown. It would seem a logical method of ordering.

"No. Knox orders ￡640,000 worth of drugs, but prices change all the time, so we should be seeing more fluctuation in the number of bricks we have coming in." Tony pushes his glasses back up his nose. "I don't know how I didn't see this before."

"Because your job is to balance the books, what goes in has to match what goes out. It's not your job to ensure the guys filling in the books are doing it right," Roland reassures his work colleague.

"I have to tell Knox now, don't I?" Tony mutters.

"Yes, you do. Congratulations on picking this up. You are a valued and important member of this organisation. Well worth the pay rise Knox will give you for this." I'm going to insist on the pay raise. If Knox wants to expose the rot with this witch hunt, he needs to reward the good. Tony is one of the best.

"Lenny, go with them."

Lenny leaves with the two men for the unenviable task of telling Knox about their discovery.

"Now tell me about William."

"You know what Lenny is like throwing around the fact he's capo at his age. You know how it doesn't always sit well with some of the older blokes."

"It's because he's family. Blood always comes first."

"Well, Lenny says William was getting cagey, and then he snapped and tried punching Len. After what Tony found, we had to question him."

"Has he said anything?" If William has been fiddling with the books, then there is nothing I can do to help him. But I do need to be convinced of his guilt.

"Not to me, we've got Gavriil ready to be more persuasive."

Gavriil's persuasions tend to be rather permanent.

"Give Tony ten minutes to say his piece and then tell Knox."

Jasmine's actions already bloody my hands, I can't let my presence jog William's memory and give him cause to try blackmailing me.

"I know that look," Marcus enlightens me. "Are you worried William will tell me what you did last night? You didn't just pick up Miss Long-legs; you killed Andrew Green for her."

"Shit." My hands run through my hair, but it gives me no comfort.

"He was a little pissed off when I laughed, it wasn't the reaction he expected. But, Dad, that's a strong as fuck building block for you and her. Covering up a murder together."

"She thinks she killed him, but it was me. You know what he'd do to her if I didn't."

"I'm proud of you, Dad. I hope she is worthy of you, it's bloody time someone was." Marcus pats my shoulder before heading away to phone Knox with our location. It's a big open space, just the shell of a warehouse in a forgotten yard. Perfect for torturing our rivals, now to destroy one of our own.

A weary heartbeat later, Gavriil arrives with the runt of a man who translates for him.

"Gavriil, how are you?" I offer the large man my hand.

He takes it, shaking firmly while greeting me enthusiastically in his native Russian tongue.

"He is good," Nico translates. The scruffy teen isn't related to Gavriil; he is just a kid who acts as his personal translator. He isn't even Russian, but ill be damned if I remember where he is from.

"Thanks for coming."

"Gavriil, he likes this job. Is telling me that good this call come more," Nico replies for the man instead of simply relaying messages. I can only imagine how difficult it is for him when both Russian and English are foreign to him.

"I am authorising the use of interrogation techniques to acquire information from William Harbour."

That gets translated into a thumbs-up from Nico, and Gavriil grins with more enthusiasm than I can muster. It won't stop me from doing my job, but it does take the enjoyment out of it.

Gavriil does his thing; he and Nico chat in Russian, leaving me feeling like a spare part. I can only watch as William is brought in by Marcus, struggling harder as he spies the rope noose hanging from the ceiling. Hanging is a painful but mess-free way to end a traitor, but those last few moments before the drop make these men confess their sins. It is a kindness, in a way. He won't be subjected to hours of brutality as our enemies would.

Knox arrives, and Gavriil greets him openly as if he doesn't realise he's speaking a different language. Nico trots over to act as the go-between, but I see his eye roll as he does.

"He ready," Nico calls.

I wait for the fake greeting that takes place between everyone, but my eyes inevitably fall on William.

"Please help me," he mutters to me repeatedly. His face is bruised and bleeding from Marcus' questioning, and had he been forthcoming with information then, perhaps I could have helped him. Now his fate is in Knox's hands.

Knox, Marcus, Lenny, Caeo, and myself—almost the whole top tier—are in one place, each as hurt by this as the others. William was one of us. Maybe not Knox, but we have all interacted regularly with who we thought was a reliable man.