in the mood for banter. Were it any other low-to-mid-level criminal who’d requested a meeting with her, she’d have told him that he was the one who’d have to travel, but she and the Low Riders’ president had something of a shared past, which, being hard-headed about it, meant that a useful outcome here was marginally more possible than the norm.
Even so, she didn’t have to pretend that she liked the arrangement.
‘What do you want, Kyle?’ she asked.
He stepped around her, unashamed in his admiration for her leather-clad form, which irked her, though it was insolence rather than an actual threat – and anyway it didn’t irk Lucy as much as it did Kelly Allen, or ‘Hells Kells’, as Lucy had once scornfully (and secretly) known her, a busty beauty of a biker chick, famous in the group not just for her impressive physique, but for her waist-length crimson-dyed hair, which very much matched her temperament. Many years ago, Kells had zealously sought out Armstrong’s personal affection, and when she’d finally secured it – and it didn’t come easily – she’d defended that status like a tigress.
Kells currently watched from about ten yards away, not looking her sexy best in a raggedy old Afghan coat, but her kohl-rimmed eyes blazing under her blood-red fringe.
Armstrong, meanwhile, had moved his attention on to Lucy’s bike.
‘I heard you’d written Il Monstro off chasing some bad guys,’ he said.
‘Banged it up a bit,’ she replied. ‘Nothing that wouldn’t fix.’
‘How about the villains of the piece?’
‘They’re both doing life.’
‘Ouch.’ He grinned. ‘Should’ve known better than to mess with you, eh?’
‘So should you by now. What’s this about?’
‘Don’t worry,’ he chuckled. ‘I’m not after rekindling that fire we once had together.’
‘Good … because that’s dead.’ She could sense the rest of them watching her in expectant silence, which annoyed her all the more – it might be a police thing, but Lucy never liked being the only person on the plot who didn’t know what was going on. ‘In addition to which,’ she said, ‘it’s late and I’m in Court tomorrow. So, whatever it is, make it quick.’
‘All right … can we walk a little?’
‘If you don’t want the rest of the crowd to know what you get up to, you shouldn’t bring them with you,’ she said as they strolled along a narrow, moonlit path. ‘Or is that like asking someone to go out without his pants on?’
‘It’s them I want to talk to you about,’ Armstrong replied. ‘Or one of them. But there’s no point everyone being party to the nitty-gritty, is there?’
She supposed he was right about that. The rest of the clan would know that he’d asked her here to make some kind of deal, but the fewer of them who knew what it specifically entailed, the less chance there was that the info would leak out.
‘The word is you’re a big noise now,’ he said. ‘A full-time detective no less.’
‘And?’
He turned to face her, his wolfish features saturnine in the woodland gloom. ‘I need your expertise.’
Lucy had expected nothing less, but was still cheesed off about it. It was amazing how many of these outlaw gangs fell back on the law when it suited them.
‘Don’t look at me like that, babe,’ he complained. ‘We’ve never been enemies.’
‘Really?’
‘Look … we’re on different sides of the fence, I agree. But we weren’t always, were we?’
‘I was young and stupid back then,’ she said.
‘Some might say you’re stupid to do what you do now.’ Briefly, he sounded stung by her dismissal of their former relationship. ‘Lead a happy life, do you, Luce? Still see all your old muckers?’
‘My personal happiness is irrelevant, Kyle … whether I’m stupid or not depends on my response to this favour you’re about to ask.’
He didn’t immediately reply, humbled again – firstly because she’d clearly guessed why she was here, which kind of gave her an advantage, and secondly because if he wanted to get anything out of this, he had no real option other than to be nice to her.
‘One of our lot got turned over by Crowley Drugs Squad,’ he said.
‘Well … wonders never cease.’
‘No, look … this is serious. Remember Ian Dyke?’
‘Not sure. The memory plays tricks. All your idiots tend to blend into one.’
‘He’s been busted for possession with intent to supply.’ Armstrong shrugged. ‘It wouldn’t normally be a big deal … he was only carrying some draw, a few ecstasy tablets … but he really doesn’t want to go down.’
‘What’s that popular phrase?’ she said. ‘If you don’t like the time, don’t do the …?’
‘I know all that. Listen Luce, Dykey’s girlfriend’s just had a baby and he’s trying to get his life sorted. Got himself a proper job and everything. But this isn’t going to help with that, is it?’
‘If it’s only a bit of molly … he won’t go down for that.’
‘But he will lose the job.’
‘So, he’ll have to get another.’
‘Look …’ Armstrong seemed inordinately frustrated. ‘Of all my lads, Dykey’s the last one to deserve this shit.’
‘You telling me the Drugs Squad framed him?’
‘Nah … that’ll be his defence, but that’s not what happened.’
‘Well, then he does deserve it, doesn’t he?’
‘It was his last delivery,’ the biker stressed. ‘His very last one. After that, I was gonna cut him loose so he could start a normal family life.’
She eyed him with fascination. ‘So … is this your guilty conscience speaking, Kyle? Is the untouchable general finally getting a complex about the good little soldiers he sends into battle for him?’
‘Hey, I’m just trying to help a guy out who’s been a good mate of mine for a long time.’
She pondered, mulling over whether she could turn this thing to her own advantage. ‘Have we got a trial date yet?’
‘Yeah … next spring.’
‘Next spring?’
‘He’s at Manchester Crown.’
‘He’s at Crown Court?’ That surprised
