Page 99 of Joker in the Pack

Gone for two movies, an episode ofEastEnders, and a pizza delivery. Three large pepperonis, but I only ate one slice, and even that felt as if it was going to come up again. Luckily, the taller of the two men seemed to have a metabolism that allowed him to eat for three, because he got through two of the pizzas on his own.

Where was Nye? What was he doing? And, more importantly, was he okay?

“Do you know how Nye’s getting on?” I asked Pizza Guy.

He dragged his eyes away from the television and shrugged. “Don’t worry about him—he knows how to look after himself.”

All very well for him to say.

By the time Nye walked through the door, totally unscathed, my mind had cycled through him getting in a fight, to landing up in hospital, to lying dead in a gutter somewhere.

I ran over and threw my arms around him. “You’re all right! Thank goodness.”

Nye blushed while the other two men chuckled.

“That’s quite a welcome, mate,” Pizza Guy said. “Wish my missus gave me that kind of greeting every time I got back from a job.”

I mumbled an apology. “Sorry. I was just a bit worried.”

“I think I got that.” Luckily, Nye was smiling.

“Did you find what you needed?” Pizza Guy asked.

“Partly. But it raised more questions than I’ve got answers for.”

“Always the way, ain’t it? Do you need us for anything else?”

“No, I’ve got it from here. Thanks.”

The men filed out, leaving us alone, and Nye reached straight for one of the leftover slices of pizza.

“What happened?”

I was dying of curiosity. Quite literally, if my mystery assailant had anything to do with it.

“I had an interesting chat with Ronnie’s ex-cellmate.”

“He talked to you? Like, voluntarily?”

Nye burst out laughing. “Don’t look so worried, babe. What did you think I was going to do? Beat it out of him?”

Well, yes, but I couldn’t exactly admit that. “Er…”

“We went out for a beer, and I bunged him a few quid. That’s how it normally works.”

Oh. That sounded almost civilised. Except it meant that Nye had shelled out yet more money on my behalf, which left me feeling guilty once again. I’d pay him back somehow, even if it took me years to earn enough.

“What did he say?”

“That Ronnie was a prick. No surprises there. But he did recall a conversation they had soon after they met about the families they’d left behind. The cellmate worried his wife wouldn’t be able to pay the mortgage.”

“Perhaps he should have considered that before turning to a life of crime?”

“Probably wouldn’t have stopped him. They all think they’ll never get caught. Anyway, Ronnie didn’t seem bothered by money. He said he only had his mother left, and he’d made sure she had a good retirement plan. My contact got the impression Ronnie wasn’t talking about a pension.”

“That does make sense. Aunt Ellie bought all manner of things off the internet, and I never did work out where she got the money to do it.”

“Eleanor only had forty pounds in her bank account when she died. I spoke to your mate, Mickey, and he swears there wasn’t any other cash with the estate.”

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