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I leaveher once again in Megan’s care and make my way downstairs. I meet Rome in the entrance hall as I head for the cells.
“Hey,” I begin. “Nice work yesterday.”
He grins. “We had fun. It was Jack who knew where to look for him, though.”
“Even so, I owe you big style for everything you did.”
He shrugs, dismissing my gratitude as being unwarranted. I know better.
“You on your way down there now?” he asks.
“Yup. Jenna managed to tell me some of what happened. He’s going to die.”
“Fair enough. Can I watch?”
“If you like. But he’s mine.”
“Sure.” He falls into step beside me. “By the way, I have her phone here.” He produces the device from his back pocket and hands it to me. “Casey reset the password.” He rattles off a series of letters and numbers.
“Fuck. You type it in.”
He obliges, then hands it back. “There wasn’t anything on there to connect her to Fuller, except an incoming call she received two days ago from Carlyle’s number.”
I nod. That tallies with Jenna’s account.
“But…” Rome hesitates.
I slant him a sharp glance. “But what?”
“You should read through her texts.” He’s squirming, distinctly uncomfortable.
“Why would I want to do that?” I ask him quietly.
“I just think you should. That’s all.”
I pause on the stairs down to the cells to bring up her text app and take a few moments to scroll through. It doesn’t take long to find the odd exchange between Jenna and someone called Gregory.
I scowl at the screen, then at Rome. “Do you know who he is?”
He shakes his head. “I was sort of hoping you might.”
I don’t answer. I’m still taking it in.
Thursday? Come in by the back door? I have the stuff you need.
Today is Wednesday.Right, then.
“Thanks, bro. I’ll deal with it.” I shove the phone in my back pocket and put the matter out of my mind for now. I have more urgent shit to deal with.
We arrive at the cell door. There is silence from within.
Rome grins at me. “He must have got bored with screeching. He was making enough din to wake the dead when we locked him up.”
I flip open the viewing panel and peer inside. Fuller is lying on his side on the stone bench, his back to the door. He appears to be sleeping.
I keep my voice low. “Get me a bucket of water. Nice and cold.”
Rome grins. He’s enjoying himself. Whistling, he heads off to the sluice room at the end of the corridor. He returns with a metal pail, water slopping over the brim.
