'Well?' said Pascoe as they walked along the corridor.
'It's like we thought,' said Dalziel. 'Park's a middleman between the big-time dealers and the small-time pushers. It was Govan that Waterson dealt with, very small time to start with, a few ounces of grass now and then, but eventually getting a bit harder, and when he started asking for more than he needed to feed a personal habit, Govan mentioned him to Park. They met and had a chat in the Sally. Park says he was impressed with Waterson at first. Very laid back, and he gave the impression he had lots of well-heeled contacts. Me, I've just seen Waterson as a snivelling wreck but from what everyone else says, when he's on top of things, he can be very impressive. It took our Harry a wee while to suss out that he was just another wanker who liked to talk big in front of his mates and fancy women. He began to get suspicious when Waterson just seemed to want to go on buying little nibbles, to sample the merchandise, he said. When Park told him to put up some real money or back off, Waterson became all indignant and sure enough he came up with an order worth several thou. What's more, he actually produced the money on time and took delivery at the end of January. No wonder the stupid sod couldn't pay Swain's bill!'
'But what about the profit on pushing the stuff? It should have been five times his investment, minimum.'
'Park knows nowt about that. All he knows is when he next saw Waterson only a week later he was ready to treat him as a serious customer till he realized he was back to buying a few fixes at a time. He was in such a state that at first Park reckoned they must be for himself. But it came out they were for some bird. He wanted to pay the wholesale price rather than the street price and he tried to lean on Park a bit by hinting that if his girl didn't get fixed up, she might start talking. Park wasn't explicit but he seems to have made it clear that if this bird started singing, it'd be Greg who got his neck pulled! After that he didn't see him again till last night, and that was by chance, at least on Park's part. He was in the Sally, having a social drink, he says - and I'm to be Queen of the May, I said - when Waterson came wandering over, all smiles, very much man-of-the-world. He'd had a couple of drinks and was talking expansively of doing some real big business with Park. Harry got out of the place as quickly as possible with his chums, before, as he put it, Waterson's gob could drop him in the shite.'
Pascoe frowned and said, 'I'd have thought he'd have wanted to give Waterson a stiff warning, perhaps even a lesson.'
Dalziel smiled and said, 'And so he did, my boy. But not there in front of witnesses, and not straight after, when he and Waterson had been seen leaving the pub together. No, the lesson was planned for this morning, a couple of Park's mates, mebbe the big lads you saw last night, going round to talk to him while Harry was safely chatting to a vet somewhere in Halifax.'
'Then he got Waterson's address?'
'Of course he got his bloody address. Where the hell do you think we're going?'
He led the way to his car parked on a double yellow just outside the car park. The gatehouse was finished and now the final area of concrete was being laid across the entrance with Arnie Stringer supervising the work.
'Nearly done, are you?' bellowed Dalziel.
'Aye. Tomorrow we'll clear up and that's it.'
'Not before time. More tea-breaks than the Queen Mother, you lot. I'd like a word about your son-in-law, Tony Appleyard, some time.'
Stringer looked as if the Angel Gabriel had just announced his pregnancy over a tannoy. He came as close as he could without treading wet concrete.
'What about him?' he grated.
'Don't take on. Social Security inquiry, uniformed's job really, but as I was out at Moscow today I said I'd ask your girl, and she said she'd no idea where he was, but you'd gone south in January to look for him.'
'Did she now? Then likely she told you I didn't find him.'
'That's right. I just wondered if you got any clue where he might have gone?'
'Do you not think I'd have gone after him if I had?' demanded Stringer.
'Come on, Arnie. It sticks out a mile you didn't much like the lad,' said Dalziel insinuatingly. 'Can't blame you, getting your lass into trouble like that, then buggering off south. In your shoes, even if I did find him, I might be tempted to squeeze his goolies and tell him to stay down there among the yuppies. You can tell me, man. It'll go no further.'
Pascoe could see what the fat man was doing. There was little chance that Stringer was going to accept a genuine invitation to confide, so Dalziel was couching his pseudo-invitation in terms calculated to get under the other's skin. It certainly worked.
'No wonder the country's falling apart with things like you in charge of the law,' sneered Stringer. 'Seems like none of you have owt better to do than stand around here sticking your noses into other people's private business. There's drug-pushers out there, and muggers, and football hooligans, and child-molesters, and all the hordes of Gideon, and what are you two doing about it?'
'Well, thanks for the warning,' said Dalziel gravely. 'Watch your back for prowling Sodomites!'
He walked away with Pascoe at his heel.
'What was all that about?' he asked as he put on his seat-belt.
'Private business,' said Dalziel. 'Talking of football hooligans, I've not heard of many arrests. Throwing buggers off trains in Cambridgeshire's one thing. Duffing up landlords on my patch is getting serious!'
'Come on,' said Pascoe indignantly. 'I've had the lads doing what they can but that's not much. The only way you get anywhere with something like this is getting an undercover team into the gangs. That's a big operation, and the way things have gone in court recently, it's damned hard to get a result.'
'I only asked, lad. No need to get touchy,' said Dalziel. 'I've noticed you've been very sensitive since you got back. Still taking the tablets, are you?'
Pascoe did not rise to the provocation but asked brightly, 'Am I allowed to know where we're going, sir?'
'Messing about on a boat, lad. Hope you don't get seasick.'
'Not the
