Lifting the Lid(32)

‘Delia hired some woman to make the pickup apparently, but it was a bloke turned up instead. Then he gave MacFarland the slip.’

‘Oh for f…’

‘He also reckons that the pickup guy didn’t leave anything in the locker.’

‘Reckons? What do you mean “he reckons”?’

‘MacFarland said that Humpty didn’t actually check it, but from the reaction of the—’

‘Christ almighty,’ said Harry, looking up at the clear blue sky. ‘What do I pay these people for?’

The veins in his temples were throbbing like pistons. ‘Where are they now?’ he called over his shoulder as he walked back to his sun lounger and collected his half-smoked cigar from the ashtray.

‘Still at the festival. They’re waiting for your instructions.’

‘Coursh they are,’ said Harry, his teeth clamped around the cigar as he struck a match. ‘Can’t bloody think for themshelves, can they? Useless fucking twats.’

Donna lowered her magazine. ‘What’s up, love?’

He took a deep draw on the cigar and combined a dismissive wave of the hand with extinguishing the match. ‘Nothin’ I can’t deal with, darlin’. Don’t worry about it.’

‘Just watch your blood pressure, that’s all,’ she said and returned to her reading.

‘Yeah yeah, don’t fuss.’

‘You know what happened last time you got yourself into a tizz.’

‘Tizz? Huh,’ Harry muttered and retraced his steps to the veranda. ‘Anything from Carrot?’

‘Not since last night, no,’ said Eddie with a slow shake of the head.

‘Well let’s just ‘ope that part of it’s still going to plan anyway.’ Harry studied the glowing tip of his cigar for several seconds and then jabbed it in Eddie’s direction. ‘Get MacFarland back on the phone and tell the stupid Scotch git to get his lazy arse to the drop-off point. I don’t suppose anybody’ll turn up now, but I wanna be certain. And while you’re at it, tell Delia to get hold of this woman he hired and find out what the fuck she thinks she’s playin’ at.’

‘Right you are, boss.’ Eddie started back towards the house.

‘Oh yeah,’ Harry shouted after him. ‘And you can tell MacFarland that if there’s any more cockups, he’ll be singing falsetto in the heavenly fucking choir by the time I’ve done with ‘im.’

‘Language,’ said Donna and flipped over a page.





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE



The dull ache in Sandra’s lower back had become progressively worse, and she rolled her head to try and ease the stiffness in her neck. The passenger seat of the camper van was not the most comfortable in the world, and they’d been going for almost three hours now without a break.

During the earlier part of the journey, she had continued to quiz Trevor about what his involvement was and why he had taken the index cards from the toilet cistern.

She had asked him who the guy was that had tried to stop him at the festival exit. Trevor had told her he had no idea except that he’d said his name was Patterson, and he seemed to have something to do with the police.

She had asked him who the Scottish guy with the ponytail was that had pulled the gun on them in the car park, and Trevor had said he was about to ask her the same question.

He had asked her what was in the package, and she’d told him she didn’t know, which was true. He’d been surprised she wasn’t curious to take a look inside, which wasn’t true, but she’d had strict instructions not to open it.

He had asked her where she’d got her instructions from, and she’d told him to mind his own business and that if he hadn’t poked his nose in in the first place she wouldn’t be in the mess she was now.

Since then, they’d driven on in almost complete silence apart from the occasional sound of Milly snoring peacefully from the back seat. Sandra’s mobile phone had gone off at one point, but she’d recognised the number and hadn’t picked up. She had no desire to speak to her client until they had at least shaken off the Ford Mondeo that was tailing them.

‘What’s up?’ she said, finally breaking the silence when she noticed Trevor shifting awkwardly in his seat for the umpteenth time in the last twenty minutes.

‘I’m knackered. I need a rest.’

‘Not possible, I’m afraid.’ She craned her neck to look into the wing mirror. ‘Our friends are still with us unfortunately.’

‘If they really are following us like you say—’

‘Of course they’re following us. Why else would they still be there after a hundred and twenty-odd miles?’