Page 273 of The Hallmarked Man
‘Pick up that chair andfucking sit down,’ he said, ‘and bear in mind that I still owe you one for the fucking spade.’ He pointed at Robin. ‘She’s nicer than I am. My interest in your well-being ended when I found out you were alive. Trouble is, Branfoot’s going afterusnow, because he thinks we’re going to prove youwerethe body in the vault, and he appears to have sicced the goons who were after you on to our agency.She’salready been threatened with a fucking dagger.’
‘I can’t believe this,’ said Richard, passing a hand over his mouth. ‘I can’t fucking believe it.’
Danny, who’d remained on his feet against Strike’s orders, now shouted at his brother,
‘You know why I left!’
Some of the fight seemed to go out of Richard, who hitched up his trousers, looking uncomfortable.
‘Yeah, I know why… and I’m not saying you were wrong to leave, Dan. But why’d you have to dothatfor a—?’
‘You’re the one who said I’m useless at everything else!’
‘I never said you were useless at everything else, you bloody liar, I said you’d never make a fucking builder!’ shouted Richard. ‘They’re the only choices in London, are they? Dry stone walling or getting your cock out?’
Strike now picked up the fallen kitchen chair and righted it.
‘Sit,’ he told Danny for the second time. Looking defeated, Danny complied.
Richard took a chair, too, and so did Strike, whose right knee was trembling worse than ever.
Addressing Robin from under his thick eyebrows, Richard muttered,
‘Our dad was… hard on Dan. But why d’you have to get involved with allthat, though?’ he said miserably, turning to Danny.
‘I dunno,’ said Danny. ‘I needed money – it just happened!’
‘Coke’s what happened, you little prick,’ said Richard.
‘Not a little prick,’ muttered Danny. ‘Or I couldn’t’ve paid for the coke.’
‘Ha bloody ha,’ said Richard. He looked sideways at Strike. ‘So what now?’
‘We tell Branfoot he’s alive,’ said Strike implacably.
‘We can’t!’ said Robin.
‘You want to spend the next couple of years looking over your shoulder for a bloke with a dagger, do you?’ said Strike angrily. ‘It was blunt last time, it might not be, next. Branfoot knows proper criminals, he’s made bloodysurehe knows them.’ He now addressed Danny. ‘You either tell the press about Branfoot and make him too scared to make a move on you, orwe’lltell him. There’s no third option here. It’s going to come out.’
The de Leon brothers looked as though they, too, had been hit with spades. Robin picked up the frozen peas from the floor and handed them back to Strike, who said ‘cheers’ and pressed them back against his throbbing jaw. At last, Richard said,
‘He’ll talk to the press, once we’ve prepared Mum.’
‘Oh God,’ said Danny, slumping face down onto the kitchen table.
‘Well, we’ve got to tell her,’ said Richard angrily. ‘It’ll be the biggest story in Sark since the bloody German occupation.’
‘I should’ve killed myself,’ said Danny, his voice muffled.
‘Who’ll that help, you stupid sod, except Branfoot?’
‘He’ll go public,’ said Richard to Strike. ‘Just give us a few days.’
Strike glanced at Robin, who looked pleadingly back at him. With extreme reluctance, he said,
‘It needs to be soon. I want Branfoot off our backs.’
‘All right. We’ll explain to Mum – although how thefuckwe’re going to explain this – aw, don’t start!’ he said to the back of hisbrother’s head, because Danny, who was still face down, had started to sob.
