“He might have. Not personally, but he might have had it done if he had good reason. To keep the others in line, say, or as a punishment for some transgression. People like Gashi don’t worry about consequences. It would mean nothing to him. They don’t hesitate. If they want to do something, they do it. What about Blaydon?”

“Again, he’s a possibility, but not personally. He has minions, too. Have you seen him here?”

“Not me specifically,” said Blackstone, “but I’ve heard he pays visits. He has an office down by the quays.”

“And Gashi?”

“He doesn’t live here, either. Another frequent visitor. He lives in Mayfair, when he’s not back in Albania. Blaydon has a lot of connections, and you wouldn’t take any of them home to meet your mother. He likes to be seen hobnobbing with personalities, too—you know, TV presenters, footballers, the occasional pop star or politician. Word has it he supplies them with coke and imported girls and everyone has a good time.”

“Except the girls. Yes, I’ve seen the dregs of one of his pool parties.”

Blackstone nodded. “Except the girls. But to be honest, he’s never caused us much trouble, not so as we’d be after him, anyway.”

“He’s slippery,” said Banks. “But he’s got something to do with this county lines business, and he’s got so many empty properties I’m sure he feels it would be almost a crime not to use them as pop-up brothels or trap houses.”

“I see you’re learning the lingo.”

Banks smiled. “Got it from the Sunday Times. I don’t think they really talk like that. Anyway, I hear Blaydon’s business is in trouble.”

“It’s a bad time for property developers, that’s true. That why he’s edging closer to crime?”

“I think so,” said Banks. “That and because he likes the idea of being thought a bit of a pirate. There are plenty of people who still think supplying people with what they want—i.e., drugs and sex—is a heroic venture. By the way, have you heard anything about our favorite madam, Mia Carney, lately?”

Mia was a woman they had encountered the last time Banks had worked with Blackstone in Leeds. She had been running a sort of “escort service” fixing up poor university students with wealthy sugar daddies and had the misfortune of running into some unsavory characters. Banks had saved her life, and as a consequence felt proprietorial. Besides, he liked her.

“As a matter of fact, I have,” said Blackstone. “I think you know she got a suspended sentence. It seems she took her brush with death and prison seriously and moved out of the escort business altogether.”

“So what’s she doing?”

“Working for the student housing association.”

Banks looked at Blackstone open-mouthed, then they both started laughing.

Chapter 13

13