Page 50 of Nothing But the Night (Basic Instincts 2)

“You can’t continue with his case under the circumstances,” Ryman said.

“I know, and I’m not,” Jason said. “This isn’t a case anymore. Someone tried to kill me as well as Marc. It’s personal. I need to find out who is behind this before they try again. I’m no longer acting for the business. This is for me and Marc.”

Ryman nodded in agreement. “I think that’s for the best. But that doesn’t mean the firm won’t be involved. I want to see everything you’ve got and I’m going to help you. The sooner this mess is resolved, the better.”

“You don’t have to do that. You’ve got your own workload.”

“But I’ve only got one partner,” Ryman said. “An attack on you is an attack on all of us.”

A ball of emotion welled in Jason’s throat. He swallowed with difficulty. “Thank you.”

“What about Soloman Archer? Do you think our fuck-wit MP has anything to do with this?”

“My guts tell me yes. But I haven’t found any evidence against him. I haven’t even been able to speak to the fucker yet. He’s been in London the whole time.”

“That counts for nothing. I’ll start digging deeper into him. Find out what else he’s involved with. Any dodgy connections. Dubious partnerships. The bloke is worth a fortune and few people build that kind of wealth by playing nice.”

“I can’t work him out at all. And he’s got so much to lose. Fair enough, he likes to screw around with young guys on the side. I dare say he’s not the only member of Parliament who gets up to that. But Theo wasn’t exactly discreet about their arrangement. Why take the risk?”

“It gives Soloman more reason to silence him, though. Theo was blabbing his mouth, so he had to shut him up.”

Jason scratched his chin. “I know, that’s the obvious conclusion, right. But why do it in such a high-profile way? Wouldn’t a fake overdose drawn less attention? Or a stage robbery that goes wrong.”

“You’re making the assumption that he has access to the kind of people who can arrange those things. And was prepared to pay the price tag that comes with a professional hit. The way Theo was killed and thebotched attack on you, doesn’t say professional to me. It smacks of local lowlifes doing it for a few hundred.”

“But again, why? He’s much more likely to be caught out that way. You know what the local criminals are like. They would sing like a canary if they were arrested in connection to the attacks.”

“It won’t hurt to ask some questions.” Ryman had a string of contacts in Blyham’s criminal community. “People are talking about what happened to you on Friday night. There must be some rumours about. I’ll find out what the word is. What else have you got?”

“I need to follow up on what Tyrone told me about this photographer. There was some kind of disagreement between him and Theo. It will probably amount to nothing, but I’d like to speak to him anyway and find out what he knows.”

Ryman nodded. “Fair enough. You get onto that, and I’ll start making some calls. Let’s see what we can dig up.”

Jason exhaled with relief. “You don’t have to do this, but thanks.”

Ryman got up and came around the desk. He sat on the edge, looking down at him with the face of a kind uncle. “I can’t lie, this time yesterday I was furious about what you’ve done. But I can see the bigger picture. Some bastard came after you and we need to find them before they try it again.”

* * * *

Marc stopped at a high street coffee shop after visiting the bank. His entire body ached, especially his back. He’d underestimated how tough the recovery process could be on the body. He ordered a tea and achocolate brownie, hoping the sugar boost would revive him. He eased himself into a chair by the window, with a view of the railway station. While he waited for the tea to brew, he dialled Tyrone’s number.

“Who’s this?” Tyrone snapped.

“It’s Marc Glass. I’m Theo’s brother. I’m the one who hired Jason and I’ve got the money you asked for.”

“Er, where is Jason?” The angry tone had shifted to one of suspicion. He had a very strong, regional accent.

“He’s working. I’ve got the cash you want so you can tell me what you know.”

“Money first. Then I’ll talk.”

It was no less than he’d expected. “I’m in the city centre right now. I can meet you whenever. Just tell me where you are?”

A long pause, then, “After what happened to the pair of you, I don’t want you coming by my place. You can keep your trouble to yourself.”

“I already told you, I can meet you anywhere.”

“All right. I’m seeing a client at two. You know the footpath that runs along the river, downwards from the concert hall?”

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