VIRAGO

Paranoia

Some hunches can be considered paranoia. But in Zoey's case, her hunches were more than always correct.

 After her visit to London with Thomas, it was more than obvious, well to her at least, that there was something going on behind her back. However, when she questioned John about it he just shrugged it off as 'Tommy being Tommy' and was not at all phased by the odd behavior she described.  Part of her wanted to believe him and have complete and utter blind faith in his judgment, but the smart side of her knew she would never take that chance. 

So she had done what she needed to, she hired a few trusted individuals to keep a close eye on his movements and researched into whose house he'd parked outside of for 23 seconds. And you'd imagined her shock upon realizing it was none other than Henry Russel, a face from the past she thought she'd never hear of again. And to add to her list of suspicions, earlier that morning she was informed that he had met privately with a chief inspector in a church of all places.  

Tommy was not at all pleased to see her sitting at his desk chair once he entered the office, in fact I think it would be fair to say he had his fill of miss. Richardson after having to drive her back from London smashed out of her mind. Nevertheless, he kept up appearances, and after a good few seconds of his usual cold stare, he cleared his throat closing the door behind him. "Zoey." He acknowledged, heading straight for the liquor shelf. 

"Pour me one while you're at it." She had ordered, slinging out a pack of cigarettes onto his desk, a complacent expression decorated her face despite her hardened eyes. "We have a few things to discuss." 

"Is that right?" He asked rhetorically, exhausted with the day and with her. He had moved towards his desk and slid the glass of whiskey over to her as she lit a smoke, offering him one in the process. "What more could we have to discuss?"  

"Henry Russel." She'd drawn out the syllables as though she were about to sing a song, though it was much more sinister than cheerful. At this, Thomas swallowed, but he refused to sit opposite his own desk. Instead, he opted to turn and face out the window, taking a slow drag and a sip from his glass, remaining unphased on the surface.  "That is whose house we were parked outside of weren't it?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about." It was practically the same as saying 'no comment' during an interrogation, which instantly triggered her eyes to roll as she took a drink from her glass leaving behind a seal of red lipstick. 

"Alright then." She played along, tilting her head slightly "Did you have a nice chat with your inspector friend in the church earlier?" He hadn't answered, "I have to say I hadn't had you pegged for a devout Christian."

"What is it that you want Zoey?" He turned to face her, practically sighing with fatigue- he just wanted peace and quiet but instead, he was being interrogated by a nosey 21-year-old with too much power. 

"I want to know why on earth you're fucking with coppers and Henry Russell?" She questioned calmly, attempting to conceal the recoil on her face when saying his name instead, opting to wash the sour bile down with some whiskey. 

"You know this man?" Thomas neared the desk once more, wanting to get a better look at her reactions. Knowing she was more than always analyzing his own.  

"I do." She swallowed, leaning back in his chair as a cloud of smoke poured from her lips, Her demeanor was a false visage in hiding her ugly truth- while she appeared relaxed on the outside Thomas didn't let it go unnoticed the jittering of her leg under the table indicated otherwise. 

"How?" He couldn't help but lift his brows at this new information, just when he thought he was out of options, Zoey could be the key to pulling this off and not losing his life in the process. 

"You answer my questions then I'll answer yours." It was a simple request, Zoey peered up at him whilst he leaned on the edge of his desk studying her.

"It's classified." He informed her stubbing out his cigarette. 

"So it's been sanctioned by the crown then." She guessed smugly, mirroring his action. 

"How do you know Henry Russell?" Thomas was frustrated, so he cut to the chase folding his arms.

"How do you?" At this he'd taken a moment, letting himself ponder on whether he was going to reveal information in order to explore this new avenue in completing this godforsaken mission. Coming to his decision, everyone knew Thomas Shelby was a risk taker- and so he did.

"What I am about to tell you, does not leave this room. Not even for John."His tone had quickly transitioned from bored to dire, not removing his icy orbs from hers, Zoey could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand in anticipation. "And if it does I'll kill you myself."

After a few seconds of a cold stillness between them, she responded with a hollow expression "Understood." 

"I have been hired by men higher than myself to assassinate him."  He unveiled downing the rest of his glass. Thomas almost felt a wave of relief wash over him at finally being able to tell someone, part of him was concerned that telling her this would have fatal repercussions but the other part knew if he didn't, Zoey Richardson's paranoia would whip up more of a mess than he was willing to deal with. 

"Why?" her brows knitted together in confusion, last she saw him Henry was simply a corrupt field marshal for northern Ireland. 

"Does it matter?" He placed his empty glass down with a stony air about him. 

"Suppose not." she shrugged. 

"Now how do you know Henry Russell?" He circled back to his original question with expecting eyes. Zoey had to take a pause before continuing- her life had changed so much since she had last associated with Henry, It was difficult and in fact, perhaps a part of her had never properly processed the things that had happened to her when she was back living with with her family.  

"My father and brothers." She spoke bitterly, taking a gulp from her glass in a meek attempt to avoid eye contact, " He used to attend their parties." 

"And how does he know you?" He dug further.

A subtle but distant look had overtaken her focus as her gaze shifted slightly to the blinds behind him, Tommy had recognized this look from the soldiers when speaking on battles so he wasn't put off by the odd behavior, in fact, he simply sat waiting patiently for her to continue.  "I was the reason he'd attend." She'd snapped out of her trance quite quickly, downing the rest of her drink and slamming it onto the desk "Well now that I know you aren't fucking me over, I'll be off." She informed him, picking herself up off his chair. 

"Wait." Tommy had halted the younger woman by the wrist, she'd looked at the contact and then at him with a sharp look indicating for him to let her go which he did almost instantly. "I need your help." 

At that, Zoey could already feel her muscles tense, swallowing hard she pursed her lips in dissatisfaction, "Does it look like I have charity written across my fucking head?" 

"I think we could come to a fair arrangement," Tommy hummed, slipping his palms deep into his pockets, "What'd ya say Miss. Richardson? A penny for a pound ey?"