"Eat something," Alfie urged.

"I don't eat."

"That's right you don't eat. All the years I've know you, I've never seen you take a bite of food. What are you living on, air?"

"Opium."

"Well, that'll do it. Drink somethin. You're lookin worse than that there scarecrow yonder. Opium eh? I thought Bourbon was your poison."

I shouldn't have told him that. Shouldn't be telling people anything.

He'd gotten so used to people not listening that he felt he could say what he wanted and now Alfie of all people, was listening, listening intently.

He drank and drank.

"What happened Tommy? Why wasn't there a bang?" "The rally."

"There's a traitor. I don't know who, I don't know how they pulled it off, but there's a traitor."

"And you decide it's the perfect time to blow your brains out? Didn't want to solve that pesky little mystery eh? No, I get it, letting off a little steam, playing a little Russian roulette. Must be something you picked up from what was er name now, Tatiana?"

Tommy turned to look at him.

"How the fuck do you know Tatiana?"

"Remember, the jewels Thomas? I know, ancient history. I got a set, saved them for Ada but it was never the right time to give them, what with the baby and all. A nice set of diamond earrings. Superb."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to collect. Payment. A botched job is still a job. Isn't that right Cyril." Alfie patted the dog on the head.

"Take your fucking dog with you."

"He's better off here. A man like you shouldn't be alone."

The house was silent.

No sound of Charlie playing the violin. No sound of Ruby's high childish prattle. No Lizzie."

"As I said, I'm the only one you've got."

Fuck.

"Take a breather Thomas, collect your thoughts. Find your checkbook. I'll be right here when you've come back to yourself. You know, Opium, makes you see things, hellish things most of the time, also not so hellish things and those are the worst, because they suck you in, make you think they're real, make you do things. Hearing voices Thomas? Questioning yourself?

Shut up. Shut up.

Tommy took another drink.

"That's it. Numb the pain a bit."

"I am not in pain."

"Dull the voices a bit."

Grace's voice, grace's breathing lingering in his ears.

"I am not hearing any voices, but yours."

"Christ, I don't want to see you when you are if this your normal state of mind.

Tommy took another drink.

"I could tell. I could tell something was up when you were sitting across from me in Margate. Old Alfie knew.

"And you decide to tell me about your recurring dream."

"Prophecy. Because I found you in a field, but with no horse. I am a god."

Fuck you.

"First order of business. You're going to write me a check. A big handsome check. Then you and I are going to have a nice long chat about our next move.

"There is no next move."

"Mosley isn't dead."

"And you're going to help me?"

"In exchange for information. Look I want the fascist pig dead more than anyone, but I need a return. This residence seems to have many empty rooms. I think I'll take one."

"What about the police?"

"You're not thinking of calling them, are you? In your state? After what happened? You'll want to lay low."

He's right.

"Let's talk traitors."

Let's not.

Pollyanna?" Alfie began. "Viperous woman. Wouldn't put it past her."

" Her fiancé was murdered at the rally," Tommy said, his mouth going dry at the thought of Aberama Gold stabbed to death.

"Could have orchestrated it herself."

"Why?"

"You think Michael is smart enough to pull something like this off?"

"He tried before. You remember Churchill and the Sabini's."

You clearly won't let me forget.

"So Michael, your aunt, the wife," Alfie said. "What about your men? he asked, changing tactics.

"There's always a rotten apple, mold in the bread as I say. Who is someone you think you can trust most?"

Johnny Dogs.

"Maybe it was you," Tommy countered.

"Maybe, but it wasn't. Maybe…. it's Winston Churchill himself. The real Churchill."

"Why would he want to prevent the assassination of a fascist?"

"You're the politician. You tell me."

"What do you want Alfie?"

"Information."

"What kind of information?"

"A series of numbers and a street name."

"Leave Ada out of this," Tommy said, immediately knowing what Alfie was driving at.

I am not giving you her address.

"I suppose I can find out myself, but I'm showing you courtesy by making a request, like a gentleman."

"Now that you've told me like a gentleman, go back to treating me like a gangster."

May's words rang in his head.

"What about wife number 3? Maybe you divulged too much in the bedroom…"

"Not Lizzie."

"Why? Because she's your wife? Maybe your wife, your aunt, your cousin and his wife, all of them are out to get you. Or maybe it's none of them. Maybe this is just Mosley being one step ahead.

"He didn't know."

"Maybe he did."

He was getting nothing from this talk but a headache.

"How about your brother, Arthur?"

"No."

"I always liked Arthur. We had a real connection. Well, how about the young one, Fenton?

"Finn and he didn't…"

"He was a bit of a loose cannon," Alfie said. " Like Arthur. Maybe the betrayal was unintentional. Doesn't make it any less of a betrayal, but it is still betrayal."

"Alfie, Leave."

"I think, I'm going to pour myself a drink before it's gone."

He reached over and poured himself a glass.

"I was your brother in law. I was family."

Tommy said nothing to that.

"You like records, Thomas?" he asked. "I've got a nice collection of records back in Margate."

Where is Lizzie?

The phone rang, jarring, grating against his ears. Alfie picked up the receiver before Tommy could stop him.

"Shelby residence," he said before extending the phone to him. " It's for you."

I can't do this anymore Tommy. I can't be your wife," Lizzie said.

"Where are the children?"

"They're safe. Much safer now than they ever have been."

"Lizzie."

The line went dead. Alfie acted as if he had not been interrupted.

"It seems our main problem is a lack of information. We know Mosley is a fascist, but we don't know much about his personal life."

"He likes women."

"Well, that's a start," Alfie said, not sounding too encouraged by the information.

"May talked to him."

"May.."

"Carleton."

"Right wife number one. Talk to her then. I could come along and act as an intermediary.

In case there is a chance of violence."

A chance of violence?

"You're a dangerous man Thomas. You're unpredictable too. Have to take precautions."

"Get out of my fucking house."

Alfie waved a hand.

"I'll be in the guest room. If you need anything. Holler. I know you can."

He stood up and lumbered out of the study. When he had closed the door, Tommy raised his hands and ran them through his hair, lowering his head down onto his desk.