The private location Madison's dad had summoned them to was a pub. Karl opened the wooden door for Madison and Jase, releasing the mindless chatter and booming laughter from the punters gathered around pool tables and fruit machines. It was one of those places you were either a regular, or unwelcome, and the building had to have been at least a hundred years old and smelled it.
Karl led them through, heads turned to watch around them. Jase couldn't tell whether it was because they knew Madison, or him, or both, or neither. Either way, it was unnerving to have so many eyes on them in an unfamiliar territory. He did notice one thing, there were no women. No barmaids, no girlfriends hanging onto their lover, nothing. He figured maybe that was why they were staring at Madison like a two-headed horse, whispering.
Madison avoided looking at Jase and it wasn't because she felt guilty for lying. She was pissed because her plan to keep the two men in her life separate had failed.
Karl took them through another door and up a set of rickety stairs with the carpet removed and the faded grippers left on. At the top, they walked through a narrow hallway with whitewashed walls and black beams. It was like being in a funhouse. The floor was uneven and beams sat so low even Madison had to duck until they came to a door at the end with two men standing outside.
"They need to pat you down," Karl explained. Jase lifted his arms up and parted his legs. There was no use arguing. Madison didn't move and Karl raised his brows. She rolled her eyes, taking the gun from her jeans and handing it to one of the men. They took Jase's gun as well and only then did they open the door.
The burly man behind the desk was instantly recognisable as Madison's father. They shared the same eyes and mouth shape. Jase imagined the man once had many more similarities to his daughter but age had made them more subtle.
An aggressive white scar ran from his left ear to the corner of his lips. He wasn't so much wrinkled as he was bent, deep creases imprinted between his thick brows and around his chin, implying years of disapproving looks. His hands rested on the desk in front of him, a sovereign ring on his left index and another ring, an old wedding band, on his right pinky. He was broad but not fat.
Jase quickly picked up more to this man than his resemblance to Madison. He had seen him before. When he was young, before the scar. Just for a moment, but he was sure of it.
"We talked about this," Madison said, her glare fixed on her father who looked at her briefly before his attention settled on Jase, measuring him. Jase could feel it wasn't the first time this man had laid eyes on him. He'd been watched. That's how they knew to leave a phone for him at the club. The thought made him uneasy and the irony didn't go amiss.
"I know we talked about this. But we," he gestured at Jase, "haven't. And now he's thrown a bit of a spanner in my works." Her dad had a rough East London accent that only the old-timers carried. Very different from Madison's articulation.
Madison sat down without invite and Jase waited until her dad nodded to the chair. He knew when he wasn't the most dangerous person in the room. And because of that, he knew when to be respectful.
"Jase Davies," her dad said. Jase said nothing. "For whatever reason, regardless of what you've done, my daughter is dead set on protecting you and making sure you're kept out of harm's way. As much as I'd like to crush your skull under my boot."
"I told you, he is the only reason I made it out of that house alive," Madison said through gritted teeth. His attention snapped to her.
"And for that, he's breathing."
"Can someone please tell me what's going on?" Jase asked, running out of patience.
Her dad took a deep breath and looked at one of the men standing behind them. "Go get a bottle of brandy, three glasses," he ordered. The man left quietly. "I've heard a lot about you, Jase. From Madison and others. Madison, what she wants me to know, others, what I want to know."
"And what did you find?" Jase asked.
"You own The Two Moons, a gentleman's club. Originally Ramon Howard's club-"
"You killed him, didn't you? It was you," Jase interrupted. Madison's dad smiled a wolffish smile that amplified his formidability.
"You run your business well. Your papers are in order, any money laundered is damned near impossible to track. You work as much as you need to, you're not greedy."
"I don't want to make life harder than it is," Jase replied calmly.
The door opened again and a bottle of brandy and glasses was placed on the desk. Madison's dad poured them all a short and slid the glasses over.
"You're clever kid, I'll give you that. Maybe the dumbest smart guy I've ever met, considering what you've done. And that's saying something," he picked up his glass, "cause I have spent a lot of time around some great crooks."
"Get to the point, I have a child at home," Madison said. Her dad ignored her.
"My name is Mickey Kimber, Madison Kimber is my daughter. You'd have known that if you had cared about more than her first name, age, and whether or not she was a virgin," he said. Jase almost flinched.
Mickey Kimber. The name sent a riot of alarm bells off in Jase's head. Mickey Kimber was the Reggie Kray of his father's generation, with Ronnie's penchant for violence. The stories were innumerable. A finger taken for a debt paid short of £100, a warehouse used for torture, the body of a man that had aggressively propositioned his ex-wife never found. Of course, it was all rumours but the knowledge that Mickey was responsible for the death of his own stepson, and now Ramon, lent credence to these whispers being at least partially true. Jase's mouth went dry. He sipped his brandy. He hadn't come face to face with someone more threatening than himself since he was a teenager.
"You assume I'd have told him who's daughter I was-"
"And why didn't you?" Mickey snapped at Madison who slammed her glass down on the table with such force the brandy jumped out, splashing over the wood. She leaned forward, seething.
"Because I never know whether telling people who I am will keep me safe or put me in more danger. I didn't want anyone to be able to use me as a weapon against you because of all the awful shit you've done! I can't even be angry at Mum for leaving while I was in the house because it finally gave her the out she needed to get away from you!" At this point, Jase was quite glad they had taken her gun away at the door. But Mickey remained seated, composed, leaning back and watching Madison lose her cool. He was silent for a moment, considering his response.
"And for that, all I can do is apologise and try to correct the mistakes I've made-"
"Do better." She slapped her hands on the glossy oak desk. "My life has been a living hell, constantly on the run because of you. I nearly died because you had Dylan killed. And after all those years, Mitch was still after your head. Now there's Caspar. I don't know what Caspar wants, or why, but there's no doubt in my mind that it's something to do with you." She angrily poured herself another brandy. Jase noted her hands shaking. He'd never seen her hands shake, not even after she'd done Charlie. Was it rage or fear?
Mickey continued as if Madison's outburst hadn't happened.
"We were watching Greg, and then he disappeared." He looked at Jase. "I figured you had something to do with that. I assume it was his address you were looking for in John's office?" Madison's attention spun to Jase, then back to her dad. The realisation that John was in cahoots with her dad fuelled her anger further, her grip tightened on the glass. "Unfortunately, I can only do so much when someone else is trying to get the same answers."
"Well maybe if you contacted me we wouldn't be in this position," Madison said.
"He didn't give me anything useful anyway," Jase said, hoping to de-escalate the situation. Mickey shrugged.
"It doesn't matter, no point crying over spilled milk. It's not as though I can bring him back from the dead. Did he mention anyone else?"
Jase shook his head. "He made a couple of digs, spoke about how this was more than just Madison. But we know he had more people."
Mickey's brows came down. "More people? How do you know if he didn't mention anyone?"
"We were followed before, and there was a bug in Madison's car. I haven't figured out if it was Greg who put it there or someone else."
Mickey smiled. "Someone else. That wasn't Caspar's men following you either, it was mine."
Jase looked at him, confused and increasingly more uncomfortable with how much weight Mickey could push.
"Why?" Madison asked, having calmed down just a fraction. Maybe he hadn't contacted her but he was keeping track of her moves and well-being in his own fucked up way.
"When I was told you were taken, I knew no criminal with any sense would leave the car there. And you can never have too many ears. As for the cars following you, that was just me making sure my daughter was safe. You were followed the first time as well, but you failed to notice that one," Mickey said.
Jase pursed his lips. He didn't like missing anything and it was coming to light that he'd missed a lot. Mickey carried on. "I really did try to keep my distance, but I can only do that if you're not intervening. We weren't sure whether Jase was as safe as you said. But then Lily vouched for him."
"How do you know Lily?" Madison asked. Jase had already done the math.
"She works for him," he said. That one was a kicker. He should have known Lily was getting more out of it than spending time with Mia. Mickey was proud of himself.
"I wasn't going to let any Tom, Dick, or Harry babysit my only grandchild. And I knew Madison would be diligent in selecting the only person she trusted around her daughter. I wanted to line Lily's pockets a little more for a touch of surveillance," he said. Madison rolled her eyes and sighed.
"Can't fucking trust anyone," she mumbled, pouring another brandy. Jase scoured at her, wondering if she was completely oblivious to the fact she had lied to him.
"How did you find out Greg was working for Caspar?" Jase asked.
"Criminals talk to criminals. Her name was mentioned to the wrong person and it was fed back to me. I couldn't do much from in the nick, so I told her to go back to London. I told her if things got too hot before I was out, she was to go to you. If she really trusted you. Turned out she didn't need to go to you because she was dragged to you again-"
"I had nothing to do with that, they were outsourced and it won't happen again," Jase informed.
"It shouldn't have happened in the first place," Mickey said.
Madison knocked back another brandy. Jase watched from the corner of his eye. Something about being sat in the presence of this man put her on edge. Mickey continued to act as if she wasn't there and Jase cottoned on to why there were no women in the bar. They were too quick to react emotionally, too likely to become hysterical. Jase wasn't sure it was wise to slap Madison in that category. She was poker-faced when it mattered. In his eyes, Madison had more than earned her place at the table, contrary to her current lapse in neutrality. There was clearly a lot to unpack when it came to their father-daughter relationship.
"We didn't get as far as finding out who Caspar is. Greg never met with him in person and he never stuck to the same phone number or phone. They covered every track," Mickey said as he leaned forward, refilling his own crystal glass and keeping the bottle by him, out of Madison's reach. "The only thing we know is that he wanted us all together. Someone this careful wouldn't accidentally push her into your arms. I'm sure you've worked that out for yourself." Jase nodded.
"What I haven't worked out is why," he replied.
Mickey looked at Madison.
"Because we both want to protect her."
Madison stopped glaring at her dad for a moment. Her eyes widened as the ball dropped.
"I'm the target," she said, looking at Jase, "You two are inconveniences," she said.