“No, not about the documentary. Sorry, sweetheart, I couldn’t give a sweet F.A. about the documentary. I looked you up after they first mentioned the whole thing, had you looked into a bit; you seem like a nice enough girl, kind of girl my daughter might be friends with. She’ll trust you, maybe. This isn’t my fucking forte; I just want her to see I’m trying here. Let her know I’m together, I’m a good guy, I’ve got it all under control. Erin, you’ll make an old man very happy if you do this for me. There isn’t anyone else to ask, do you understand? It’s not as if I’ve got women friends knocking about, and even if I did Lottie’d run a bloody mile from them lot. She needs to know that I’ll be better in the future, once I’m out. That I’ll be there for her. That I want to be part of her life again. Help her with stuff. See the kids. My grandkids. All that. I just need you to talk some sense into her. Get her to give me another chance. She’ll listen to you. I know her. Tell her I’m different, tell her I’ve changed.” He stops talking. The room falls silent.
Why on earth would his daughter listen to me? Why would he think that? Maybe he’s not as together as I thought? And then I catch sight of my reflection in the Perspex glass of a poster screwed into the prison wall. Suit, blouse, heels, glossy hair, sunlight bouncing off my new wedding band. I see what he sees. I look together. A young woman in control of her life, on the cusp of something. Professional but still open, hard but still soft, in that magical period after youth and before age. He might be right. His daughter might listen to me.
I can’t hear the guards at all. I wonder where they are. Do they care what’s happening in here? Did Eddie arrange for them not to be here, ask them not to interrupt? He still has power outside prison, doesn’t he? I look at him. Of course he does. They probably have to be careful around him; he’ll be free again in two and a half months. Untouchable. And he’s just asked me for a favor.
“I’ll do it.” Screw it, fortune favors the brave.
“That’s a girl.” He smiles.
My stomach flips as I realize there’s a chance here for Mark and me. I could ask a favor in return. But should I? Is that a good idea?
“Eddie?” I lower my voice, lean in. Just in case someone’s listening, just in case. “If I help you, will you help me? I don’t know anybody else who can help me with this.” My voice sounds different, to my ears, more serious but thinner than usual. Needy.
His eyes narrow. He studies me. I’m a pretty readable mark. What possible threat could I ever be? He sees that, then shows that glint of a smile.
“What is it?”
“Well, okay, long story short…I have some gemstones that I…found. Okay, that sounds…I can’t sell them. They’re illegal. So there it is. And I need to sell them…off the record. Do you know someone, maybe who could…” My whisper trails off. Turns out it’s not just former gang leaders who find favors hard to ask for.
He’s grinning at me now.
“You naughty girl. It’s always the quiet ones, ain’t it! I tell you what, it’s fucking hard to surprise me, love, but I didn’t see that one coming. Sounds like a quality problem you’ve got there, Erin, sweetheart. How many stones we talking and what kind?” Eddie’s enjoying himself. He’s back in the game.
“Around two hundred, diamonds, all cut, all flawless, all two carat.” I keep my voice low but I know from his demeanor that there’s no one listening.
“Fucking hell! Where the fuck did you get those?” His voice echoes out of the archway and down the corridor. I really hope no one’s there or I’m so fucked.
He’s looking at me differently now. He’s impressed. A million is a million. But then again a million’s not what it used to be.
“Ha!” He laughs. “I’m not usually wrong about people. But every day’s a school day, aye? Very nice. Yes, Erin, sweetheart, I can help you out with your little problem. Got a numbered account?”
I nod.
He laughs again, delighted.
“Of course you fucking ’ave. Brilliant. You’re a find, Erin, sweetheart, you’re a bloody find. Right, you’ll get a call next week. Do what he tells you. He’ll sort you out; I’ll have a word. All right?” He’s beaming at me. I’m glad it’s gone this way, but it is all slightly disconcerting. And all so easy. I’m not really sure how it happened.
And now there’s my end of the deal to keep.
“I can pop around to visit your daughter next week. I’ll call Charlotte this afternoon, arrange a meeting.” I know she’ll accept. I haven’t told Eddie but we’ve already spoken briefly. She seems nice.
“You got her number? Address?” His bravado is gone. He sounds like an old man again, scared and hopeful.
“Yes, I got it from your info. I’ll have a proper chat with her.”
Suddenly another thought occurs. It’s so simple but I think it’ll do the job nicely.
“Eddie, here’s a thought. Why don’t I turn the camera back on and you can record a message for Lottie? I’ll edit it off the rest of the interview and she can watch it when I meet with her. I think that would make a big difference. Hearing it directly from you. I know it would to me. If it was my father, you know?” It’s worth a shot. He’ll say it better than I would, that’s for sure.
He thinks, drumming his fingers lightly on the table. Then he nods.
“Yeah, you’re right, let’s do that.” He’s nervous. Bless him, he’s actually nervous.
“Okay. I’m going to turn the camera back on now, Eddie. Is that all right?”
He nods, sorts his sweatshirt out, sits up, leans in.
I stop, my finger poised over the record button. “Eddie, can I just check one last thing? You haven’t been leaving messages on my home phone, have you?”
“No, love. Not me.”
Well, that solves that.
“Oh, okay. Never mind. Right, ready when you are, Eddie.”
I turn the camera on.
* * *
—
When I get home I tell Mark what I’ve done. The deal I’ve made for us. I know what should be coming; I brace myself for it. I know what I’ve done is insane, I know it’s dangerous, but I trust Eddie, I just do. And now that I know he’s not the one calling us and leaving messages, he doesn’t seem half so threatening.
But it doesn’t come. Mark doesn’t shout even though I can see he wants to. He stays calm. He lays it out.
“I know you were just thinking on the spot, and you took your chance while you could, but that’s when people make mistakes, Erin. If anyone sees this transaction happening…If this Holli thing comes to anything, aren’t the intelligence services going to try to find as much CCTV of you as they can? We just need to be more careful. Sure, if this contact Eddie gives us works out, it’s fantastic. But if not, there’s no recourse if they rob us. There’s no getting out of it if DCI Foster is watching and sees any of this.”
He’s not saying anything I haven’t already thought through myself. “But, if Eddie’s contact robs us, then we’re no worse off, are we? If you want us to get rid of the diamonds, to just throw them out, then at least this way we stand a chance of making something from them? Right?”
He’s silent. When he speaks again, his tone is grim. “Erin, Eddie’s contact could kill you.”
“I know that, Mark, but do you really think that I would have made this deal with someone I genuinely believed would kill me? Give me some credit, please!”
He sighs. “You’re not necessarily the best judge of character, honey. You do tend to see the best in people, which isn’t always a good thing. I’m just saying we need to be far more careful than you are being. If the police managed to find footage of Holli in some tiny village in Turkey, then they can definitely manage zone one of London. You need to be more careful, honey. They’ll see the bank payments into your account from the Swiss account after Holli’s missing, they’ll see you in Hatton Garden trying to sell diamonds. And then the next week you’re back talking to more criminals? For all they know, meeting contacts, paying people off to recruit, maybe, who knows? It won’t look great.”
He’s talking like I’ve already been caught and sentenced somehow. Like I’m beyond help. He doesn’t seem to care about the money at all anymore. I need to explain it to him; he’s just not understanding.
“I know, Mark. I know all those things. And trust me, I am being as careful as it is possible to be. I know it’s terribly risky. I know it’s a gamble, but I am doing it for us. For both of us. And, I’m doing it for…” I almost say “our baby,” almost. But I stop myself. I can’t tell him about the baby now, can I? He already thinks I’m reckless. I can’t tell him I’m putting his unborn child at risk too.