‘No,’ they said together.
‘Come in,’ said Annie, glad of the distraction but all too aware that this would only confirm Max’s suspicions: here was Alberto, with her. She’d called for help, and he’d come running.
‘Have a seat,’ she said. Max sat down on the sofa opposite her. Alberto took one of the armchairs. She hoped she wasn’t blushing, but she was very afraid that she was. She could see the mark on Max’s face, where she’d struck him.
Fuck it. I shouldn’t have lost it like that, she thought.
‘OK. This putz who got himself blown up by the car bomb,’ said Alberto. ‘His name’s…’
‘Frankie Day,’ said Annie and Max at the same time.
There was a silence. Annie cleared her throat, and avoided looking at Max. ‘The police filled me in. They phoned, asked me if I knew him. I don’t.’
‘I heard it from my people on the street,’ shrugged Max. He had a network in London who usually kept him up to speed on what was happening.
‘He was a hobo,’ said Alberto.
‘A…?’ Annie frowned.
‘A drifter. A drop-out. And a small-time thief. He obviously didn’t rig the thing. That was down to a red-haired man spotted at the scene just after you left the car,’ said Alberto directly to Annie.
‘You’re not telling us anything we don’t already know,’ said Max.
‘Then where are we going with this?’ asked Alberto.
‘So far? Nowhere,’ said Annie. ‘How was Layla?’
‘You went to see Layla?’ said Max. He didn’t look too pleased.
‘Yeah, I did. And she’s fine.’
‘She’s fucking traumatized, she’s not fine at all.’
‘She’s a tough kid. And I left a few of my guys there.’
‘That’s taken care of already,’ said Max. ‘My boys are on the spot.’
‘Still, a little extra never hurts.’
Annie looked between the two of them in exasperation. ‘This isn’t a contest for who can provide the best back-up,’ she pointed out. ‘We have to find out what’s going on. Or we won’t ever be able to rest.’
‘You think the intruder was Orla Delaney,’ said Alberto.
‘I don’t think. I know,’ said Annie.
Max leaned back in his chair, linked his hands behind his head. ‘Steve wasn’t one hundred per cent sure, but he thought it was, too.’
‘Well, I’m delighted he’s reassured you that I’m not imagining things,’ snapped Annie.
Max gave her a sour smile. ‘This red-haired bloke could be Redmond. You thought of that? And this business with the shamrock. That says Irish, don’t it. A calling-card.’
She had thought of it. And then she had tried not to. Whenever her brain did drift towards Redmond, it stalled in total panic. She had never feared anyone the way she feared Redmond Delaney. If he was out to get her…