“First time? The dogs, I mean.”
“First, and last. Never again.”
“Bit rough, isn’t it.”
Innit: Estuary English popping up clearly now. Fanning couldn’t decide if Cully’s tone carried some derision too.
“Left in a bit of a hurry, didn’t you.”
“And you stayed for more?”
Cully didn’t seem to take the remark as cheeky.
“Maybe I’m more used to it.”
“How does a person get used to it, to something like that?”
Fanning took a quick mouthful of beer. Cully had no answer to that one, apparently. He took his first sip of brandy.
“Now, I had a suggestion for Murph. What did you call him again, your…”
“Guide,” said Fanning. “I don’t really mean that. I don’t know what else to call it. Working for you isn’t Murph’s only line of work, you know. Obviously.”
Fanning nodded. It occurred to him then that Cully might well be high. He’d find a way to get a look at Cully’s pupils.
“A good idea,” Cully said, pausing to take a sip. “To get someone proper?”
“Well I don’t know about that,” Fanning said. “I’ll think about it.”
“He’s nothing but trouble,” Cully said. “Really.”
“But you don’t mean that in a bad way, I suppose.”
The sarcasm went by him, it seemed.
“Why do you hire people like Murph? Can’t you just make up a story?”
“That’s not what I do.”
“Everyone else does.”
“That’s why they’re crap then.”
“Ah.”
“I would think you’d agree with me.”
Cully shrugged. “Tell me, what do you care about this stuff. This crime stuff.”
“It’s not crime for its own sake. It’s like a window on life, generally.”
“I think I get that. Society, like? That kind of thing?”
“Yes. But I’m not out to give a message. No moralizing. I just want to show what goes on. Be objective.”
“Very interesting. Yes, very interesting.”
“You think so?”
“I do. But tell me something to think about. This the kind of research you do? You know, whatever you pick up could be very valuable to some people.”
“You mean the Guards.”
Cully didn’t react to the bluntness.
“They’d be the ones I was thinking of,” he said. “Yes.”
“I’m not telling the Guards anything. Why would I?”
Cully stretched his neck a little, and began to rub at it.
“That’s what Murph says. ‘Why would he do that?’”
“Well, what can I tell you.”
Cully stopped massaging his neck.
“You could tell me a lot, I think.”
“For instance?”
“Well, for instance this. Is there going to be a film here?”
Fanning let his gaze roam the pub with a calculated vagueness.
“If you’re actually paying to do this research,” he heard Cully continue. “And this film thing you want done so badly, this film goes belly-up…?”
Fanning had decided. He’d finish his pint, no hurry, tuck the stool under the counter and leave. No retorts, no arguments.
“I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it.”
“I don’t get that. That bridge thing.”
“I’ll deal with it,” said Fanning.
“Murph’s a floater,” said Cully then. “You know what a floater is? A shaper. A dickhead. Hasn’t a clue. So you’re wasting your money on him.”
“So what I need,” Fanning said, “is real expertise, I suppose you’re going to tell me. The opposite of a dickhead. That should be easy enough.”
Cully seemed to savour this particular sip of brandy.
“But by definition,” he said, “that person won’t go near you.”
“Well I won’t take that personally.”
Cully was still immune to the sarcasm.
“The thing is, this crime business, as they say in the news, this crime business is like an iceberg. Not a good comparison, but you get the idea.”
“An iceberg.”
“Such a person,” Cully went on, “they could tell you, for example, that the cops are way behind, the Guards. That they only get lucky now and then.”
“You can back that statement up of course.”
For the first time Cully seemed to focus his attention on Fanning.
“Such a person,” Cully said, slowly, “would have no reason to talk to you, no need to. You see? I mean if your work is to fade into the background, the fly on the wall routine, you don’t go having a fit like we saw back at the, the event.”
“I couldn’t take it. It was too much.”
“Ah.”
“Is that a character defect or something, in your opinion?”
“I’m only making observations,” said Cully. “Offering a bit of advice.”
“It’s only losers need lots of advice I suppose.”
“Now there’s another thing with you.”
“What is?”
“Sarcasm. I didn’t come here to call you a loser, or run you down.”
“Fooled me.”
“Back to the point here. Giving Murph the heave-ho is proper order.”
“I haven’t given him any heave-ho.”
“Well do you see him here?”
“What does that mean?”
“He doesn’t do it anymore. He got out of the research business.”
“Says…?”
“He’d wreck your project. He talks, and he talks. It’s all he does.”
“I’m okay with that. The talking.”
“Except when he’s smoking crack.”
“Who told you that?”
“Come on now. How much of what he told you is bullshit, would you say?”
“Some days ninety percent,” said Fanning. “Other days, maybe ten.”
“You’ll never know, will you.”
“Well it’s like you said, I can make it up then, can’t I?”
Cully pushed away slowly from the bar. He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, and looked down at his shoes for several moments.
