AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Got it in one,” Maddox says. “What doesn’t add up is why Bonner would come to me with evidence of Axel and Rogers meeting.”
“He could be playing you off against each other,” Mitch suggests.
“Yeah, I considered that, but this is Bonner we are talking about. The only reason he’s still breathing is because of who he knows and certainly not because he’s a smart businessman. There has to be something else.” Maddox nods his agreement, knowing full well that Bonner isn’t smart enough to pull a double bluff.
Whatever is going down, I know it involves all the moving parts of the underworld.
Rogers has been after Maddox and me since we first made moves to join up with his father, and at first, we thought it was out of jealousy.
When we first met Rogers, he was slumming it over on our estate, somewhere his father would never have allowed him to be. As Theo’s only son and heir, he should have been by his father’s side, learning the ropes of the family business. Instead, Rogers was hanging out in the underpass and creating his own little empire with us.
The problem was that when you deal on another man’s turf word soon gets back to them. And when that man you’re screwing over happens to not only be the head of one of the biggest crime families in London but also your father, there’s only one way it can end.
The very first time we met Theo was the night he paid his son a visit to the underpass on our estate where Rogers was cutting a deal with some scrawny little maggot from the next estate.
The kid took one look at Theo and his two henchmen and scarpered. The thought even crossed my mind when I first realised who he was. We all knew who Theo Rogers was, and if you knew what was good for you, you stayed away. We didn’t get that chance as Rogers had never mentioned his father’s name once, and we’d had no fucking clue who he was when we started dealing on the estate with him.
Neither of us expected to see the next day, so imagine our surprise when Theo introduced himself, offering his hand, and then invited us to accompany him to his house for dinner.
My evocative thoughts are interrupted by Maddox’s voice and the mention of Kavanagh’s name.
“What do you know about Aiden Kavanagh?” he asks Mitch.
“Kavanagh, as in the eldest son of Darragh Kavanagh, the head of the Irish mob?” Mitch questions.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know much to be honest. I’ve heard his name a few times, but never had any dealings with him or the family. Why do you ask?”
“See what you can dig up on him. The whole family actually.” Mitch nods, but I can see he’s not happy about being left hanging.
Our knowledge of the Kavanagh family is also limited, and we are only aware that years ago Theo and Darragh used to be close. As far as we know, a Kavanagh hasn’t stepped foot in London in years. It seems that’s no longer the case, and I wonder why now.
Mitch leaves, and Maddox and I move to the kitchen to pour over the file he brought round. There’s nothing in it that we don’t already know. In fact, there are things we know that the police report doesn’t mention at all.
“You know we need to tell her when she finally comes home, right?”
Maddox grunts his disapproval, and I understand why. “You think I don’t know that?”
“I’m just saying that we can’t keep it from her any longer.”
“Well don’tjustsay anything. It’s not fucking helpful.”
Maria comes into the kitchen, tutting about the mess all over the counter. We start to collect all the papers together and move to the table so that she can do whatever she needs to.
Despite having had no sleep last night, I know I won’t be able to sleep yet, so I leave Maria making dinner and Maddox torturing himself more by pouring over the missing person files.
ChapterFour
Roxy
Instead of being interviewed as I had expected following my chat with Ethan, I’m led back to my cell. It’s unusual, and the only reason I can think of is that whoever was interviewing me, Noah I suspect, has been called away or caught up with another case.
It’s dark by the time I hear the unmistakable clink of the cell door being unlocked. When the door is pulled open, despite having no clue who to expect, the person standing there is far from who I could have ever imagined.
The lean and well-trimmed man with salt and pepper hair and wearing a striking three-piece suit and long trench coat steps forward, darkening the doorway with his tall frame. A pungent waft of Old Spice aftershave permeates the air of the cell, and I can’t hide how my nose turns up at the smell.
“Roxanne, no hug for your father,” he drawls, his tone dripping with sarcasm. I ignore his petty jibe and refuse to let him get a rise from me. He continues without concern. “No matter, daughter.” He chuckles at the unbidden scowl that forms on my face at him calling me daughter. “Perhaps we can help one another. I’m sure you’re almost desperate to get out here. Even more so to never make it to Bronzefield where I’ve no doubt you’d receive quite the welcoming party.”
