In the Dark by Mark Billingham

nothing was ever seen, even if the whole damn thing was caught on camera. It was just a question of keeping your hood up, or angling your body in the right way and finding the blind spot. Got to be second nature after a while, like they were just taking the piss.
    They caught the overground across to Catford, found a side street behind the disused greyhound stadium with no CCTV that any of them could see. Easy and SnapZ took one side of the street and Mikey the other.
    They didn’t have to wait more than ten minutes.
    The kid came bouncing along with a sports bag, like he’d been at the gym or something. As soon as he’d popped the central locking on his car and moved around to drop his bag in the boot, SnapZ was in front of him asking the time. Mikey was behind with the knife and Easy did the talking.
    â€˜We just want the car keys, so no need to be silly, you check me?’
    Shock quickly gave way to resignation on the kid’s face and he passed over the keys.
    â€˜That’s nice,’ Easy said.
    The kid shook his head. ‘It’s a fucking Cavalier , man. What’s the point?’
    â€˜Shut your mouth, or I’ll stick you,’ Mikey said.
    Easy grinned. ‘Wallet would be good as well, and that shiny mobile, seeing as we’re here.’
    Once he had been given what he’d asked for, Easy walked slowly round to the passenger side, leaving SnapZ to drive. They’d take the car round to one of Wave’s lock-ups, stick some new plates on it and sit tight until later. Until it was time to collect Wave, then pick up the star of the show.
    SnapZ turned the key.
    â€˜Sweet and simple,’ Easy said.
    Mikey took the kid’s sports bag out of the boot and tossed it onto the pavement before climbing into the back. The kid picked it up and swung it against a wall, swearing.
    He was still swearing as the Cavalier lurched away.
    Â 
Helen stopped off on the Old Kent Road, picked up a bottle of the red wine she knew Katie liked. For those few minutes while she was waiting to pay, she resented spending the money, pissed off suddenly at the idea that Katie was inviting her out of pity. She had a good mind to tell her just how much she pitied her ; what with her having a freak for a boyfriend, and the same pathetic desire to be popular she’d had when they’d been at school.
    By the time she got back into her car she felt calm again, and more than a little guilty. She decided that, desperate as she was to give birth, she would miss being able to blame the violent mood swings on her pregnancy.
    It started to rain as she drove up through Borough; got heavier as she crossed London Bridge.
    She was hoping that once they’d got dinner out of the way, Graham might disappear into the attic or wherever it was he went to torture small animals, so that she and Katie could sit and gossip. It would be even nicer if she could drink. Two days earlier, she’d been told that the baby’s head had engaged and it would have been great to raise a glass of something. Being off the booze was definitely something she wouldn’t miss about being up the duff. In fact, as far as she was concerned, they could stick a glass in her hand the second the cord was cut.
    She pushed north towards Dalston and Hackney, wondering if putting wine down as part of your birth plan would be frowned upon. If the midwife would sneak off to call Social Services.
    If she would be sharing that first bottle with Paul.
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Looking around the room, Paul decided that he hated just about everyone there. Of course, a pint or two earlier he’d loved them almost as much, and there was every chance he’d do so again if he put away a few more. The beer took hold of him hard: turning him from soppy bugger to surly bastard as quickly as his capacity to string a sentence together diminished; as often as he had to push his way through to the toilets.
    The retiring officer had made his speech and, other than