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“Killed two people?” Gabriella hadn’t known that. She shook her head. “That’s . . . crazy. I thought they were a little inept when they shot the van’s tire. I thought they’d done it to prevent the van from chasing after them, and that wasn’t very bright because it just drew attention to the robbery, and there’s almost no chance a post office driver would try to chase them down. But if they did it because they like shooting things and people . . .”
“Whoever has that gun is very trigger-happy with it,” James said. He looked like there was a weight on his shoulders. “He could have killed us yesterday. I saw where the bullet ricocheted off the pavement, and it came very close to where we were standing. If the bullet he fired at the van today had bounced, or hit a rim and ricocheted off, someone else could have been killed. They’ve got no sense of caution when it comes to the lives of innocent bystanders. It frightens the living daylights out of me and Layman.”
“You need to be careful, James.” Gabriella reached out this time and took his hand. “You’ve already been injured. The chances of me being anywhere near these men again is slim to none, but you’re actively going after them. Please look after yourself.”
He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I will if you will.”
She laughed, leaning back in her chair. “I will. Now eat so you have the brain power to figure out how to catch them.”
He obliged, going for a second bowl, and as he was scraping the last of it up, she leaned forward on her elbows.
“Have you heard of a man called Sutcliffe?” she asked. “Turns out he’s my landlord.”
“Sutcliffe?” He set down his spoon and fork and then shook his head. “Nothing springs to mind.”
“He sent someone round to warn us all not to complain about the maintenance that needs doing to the house, or he’d kick us all out. I’ll probably be all right finding a new place, but the West Indians find it very difficult to get accommodation, and he knows it. It’s a threat with real teeth.”
“Sent someone round, like a thug?” James looked astonished.
She nodded. “Ambrose Ashe is his name. He came to the Trinidad and Tobago Cultural Club and told Solomon to stop phoning the office. That everyone should consider themselves lucky they have a roof over their heads, however leaky.”
“That wasn’t the man we saw hunkered down next door the other night, was it?” James asked.
“Oh.” Gabriella wondered if that had been one of Sutcliffe’s men. That made sense. Especially the way he’d tried to break in later that night. “No. Ashe is from Antigua. He’s West Indian, too. But after Solomon told him that he wouldn’t stop lodging his complaints, there were two men waiting for us here at the house when we walked back from the club. They attacked Mr. Rodney first, and then Solomon, George, and Jerome got involved. The man we saw could have been one of those two. I didn’t even think of that.”
Because she’d thought it might be one of DI Whetford’s thugs instead.
It would be a relief if James was right.
James was staring at her. “When did this happen?”
“Last night. After the shooting at the jewelers I got back just as Jerome and Mr. Rodney were going for dinner at the club, and I decided to go with them.” She patted his hand because she saw he needed it. “I was never in any danger. You’ve seen George and Solomon. I looked after Mr. Rodney, who got pushed to the ground, and never even saw the fight. I just heard it. They were waiting for us in the back yard.”
“Gabriella.” He clenched his fists. “What was the outcome of the fight?”
“Well, obviously with George, Jerome, and Solomon all involved, they won. The two men ran off, one went through the house and smashed the window next to the front door to get out.”
“I wondered why that was boarded up. Did you report it?”
Gabriella shook her head. “You know Solomon won’t do that. He’ll handle it himself.”
“I’m worried the violence is just going to escalate, and you’ll be caught in the middle.” James pushed his chair away and collected her bowl with his own. She watched him take them to the sink and wash everything, then came to join him to dry the clean things on the rack and put them away.
“Is Jerome in tonight?” he asked.
“I think so.” She knew the moment she’d told him the story that he’d probably speak to Jerome.
She stepped close and hooked him with both arms around his waist, careful about where she put her arms so as not to press on the cuts in his back. “Before I told you about Sutcliffe, you were going to persuade me into bed.”
He sighed and rested his forehead against hers. “Yes. But much though I would really, really love to do that, making sure you’re safe is more important.”
She tilted back her head. “Fine, but I’m going to be part of that discussion, so let’s knock on Jerome’s door and see if he’s there.”
She opened her door, took the step across the hall to Jerome’s door, and knocked.
“Hey, Gabriella.” Jerome swung the door open and lounged against his doorjamb, but straightened when he saw James. “Mr. Detective. How are you?”
“I’m fine.” James paused. “Gabby told me what happened the other day, with your landlord’s heavies. You tell Solomon if there’s anything he thinks I can do to help, he can contact me any time.”
