It Was You by Adam Baron & Adam Baron

Author:Adam Baron & Adam Baron
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781911591641
Publisher: Canelo Digital Publishing Ltd
Published: 2017-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Sal must have left right after I’d called her because the gym was open when I got there. Open but quiet. I walked down the steps, past the recumbent machines, and found Sal in her office. She was frowning over some accounts, her dark curly hair piled on top of her head like a nest. A gas fire burned in the far corner. Sal looked up with a bright smile when she saw me, but her face changed in a second. She said she was pleased to see me, but guessed that it wasn’t a social call. I said it wasn’t. I took a seat and told her what was going on. I told her everything from Jemma’s visit, to the graffiti, to the phone call I’d got from Andy. How I’d realized that I was at the centre of this. When I’d told Sharon about it I’d been stunned, had stumbled through it. Telling it to Sally, clearly, so she’d get it all, felt like walking on ice. I was testing it out, amazed that it really was true. The ice held. I could see Sal’s mind working. I could see that she knew why I was telling her what I was, why it was her that I’d gone to.

How big a part of the fabric of London’s underworld Sal is I’ve never really known. It’s not something we talk about unless we have to, just as Sal seldom mentions my previous career. But I do know that she’s deep in the mix. That Sal’s gym is just a sideline for the business she took over when her husband was killed, ten years or so ago. I know that she has dealings with serious men, with serious faces, who do serious things. I also know that she is privy to the undercurrents of rumour and counter-rumour that move largely unnoticed around London like the dark, unseen rivers that flow constantly beneath all our feet into the Thames. I hadn’t gone there because I expected Sal to know anything, though. I just wanted her to ask around, to see what was being said. I also wanted Sal to get something for me, something you couldn’t buy on the High Street.

As I went through it, Sal listened, her face impassive to begin with before tightening with concern. It then became impassive again, while she thought about it. I was glad Sal didn’t gush, tell me how terribly sorry she felt for me. She knew I hadn’t gone there for that. When I got to the end, Sal told me that she’d read about the murders, of course, but hadn’t given them a lot of thought. It was different, though, me being involved. I nodded. Then, without me asking, Sal told me that she’d put the word out: if anyone knew anything, anything at all, she should hear it. I nodded again and thanked her. I told her to let it be known that there was cash available for anyone with anything worth hearing.

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