Chapter Eight: The Cat Kissed“Dark as the grave in here,” said Moran as she opened the bedroom door and stepped inside. “Give me a moment, treacle, and I'll light a fire.”
“I know,” I said to the darkness, though I could see her well enough in the gloom, standing there in her bowler hat and overcoat, with fish and chips wrapped up in newspaper in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other.
“Sorry?” she asked. “You all right? You sound far away.”
“I f*****g know,” I reiterated. “I know Moriarty's little plan, I know you all want us dead, I know you're a lying piece of shit.”
She stopped in her tracks half way across the room, fish and chips and beer still in hand.
“What you talking about?” she asked with forced joviality in her tone. “You been on the gin?”
“I was going to kill you,” I
