“That’s a lot,” Green agreed. “Would be nice to have. So how did you earn it?”
Rose rubbed her nose. “There’s a place to get sandwiches outta van.”
“Here in Abington?”
“Nar, in Newcastle. Just on the street, like. I got chips. And this plastic thing.” Rose chewed her lip. “It’s not illegal.”
That was technically true. MacAdams leaned forward, hands spread on the table. If the girl was scared of going back to HM, then they could use it to advantage.
“Can you tell us what you did next? Maybe none of that was illegal, either,” he said.
“It weren’t!” she agreed enthusiastically. “It’s just a train ride, getting here. Then I was s’posed to go for a walk. Leave the envelope in the van and take a bag.” Her eyes searched the counsel’s face. “That’s not crimes, is it? They can’t send me back for that, can they?”
“Then what?”MacAdams repeated, trying to mask his impatience. “Who were you supposed to meet?”
Rose only shrugged. “Someone was supposed to findme,” she said.
A knock came at the door, then, and Gridley entered, but she wasn’t alone.
“Sir, Rose’s foster mum—” was about all she managed to say.
“Rosalind! I thought we’d got past all this!” said a harried-looking women in tracksuit and jacket. “And you can’t interview her without a guardian!”
“We have provided for counsel,” MacAdams said.
“Well?” the woman demanded, though it was hard to knowfrom whom she expected an answer. Rose had retreated further into Green’s sweatshirt. She hadn’t made the drop; she hadn’t even been to the hotel yet—she couldn’t tell them any more.
“Do you want to go home?” MacAdams asked. Enthusiastic nodding ensued. He nodded to Green. “Thank you for answering our questions. We may have more; please don’t leave town.”
“She’s not leaving thehouse, is what,” the foster said, helping Rose out of her seat.
MacAdams gave both of them his card.
“Does that mean—Am I not under arrest now?” Rose asked hopefully.
“You’re free to go,” MacAdams assured her. It was the first time she smiled.
***
In the end, interviewing Benny put them at the same disadvantage. He really did work the butty van, and only did the “other” job now and then. Deliver a bag, take an envelope. He knew Rose from the job center, but they weren’t the only ones working the gig. There had to be other pairs, but Benny and Rose didn’t know them. And neither of them seemed to know Foley, either.
“Fucking evil,” Green said. They were seated in the Red Lion, opting for an honest lunch and a pint after all that. “Butty vans and coffee wagons pepper the way between petrol stops. No one questions you stopping. And the kids aren’t told anything. Disposable. Itinerant. It’s genius in a way; no one on either side has enough info to incriminate you.”
MacAdams shrugged. The porter was going down very well and the throbbing had finally ceased. “Genius or reckless? What if a kid steals an artifact? Or pawns it?”
“That’s only if you know what you have,” Green reminded him. “Okay, the gold earrings are fancy. But half the stuff inYork was painted pottery and such. What’s a kid gonna do with that? You said yourself you have to know a network. A big, international one.”
“Right, there’s the problem,” MacAdams said. He had been slow-scrolling through an article about looted antiquities. “Big. Multinational. Plenty of the artifacts are laundered through auction houses, even museums. A buyer could almost be aboveboard.”
“Okay,” Green said slowly. “So if it’s not that hard to source the stuff, why buy it out the back of a butty van?”
“Exactly.” He clinked her glass. “There were too many artifacts in the York property for this to be a small-time operation. Efficiency, planning, connections. Hiring troubled teens to port things via butty van is anything but.”
“So—it’s two problems?” Green asked. “Why would a high-flying, clearly well-lubricated operation stoop to selling on back roads? And who buys their artifacts that way?”
MacAdams still didn’t have an answer to the first question. He might have an answer to the second. “Frankly, it has to be someone local.”
“You’re joking. Who around here would have the money for that sort of thing?” Green asked; MacAdams gave her a thin, hard smile.