Garston considered this. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place; it was either these or nothing.
“Did you actually speak to a vet to see if these were safe for human consumption?” Garston asked, starting to come around to the idea.
Flogger shifted uncomfortably. “I asked me contact, who works for a vet, which is virtually the same thing, and ‘e swore they were okay.”
Garston felt like he was losing the will to live. He dug out the money they had agreed on over the phone, deducting Flogger’s standard commission before tossing it onto the table.
After taking a final swig, Garston raised his half-finished pint in a farewell salutation. “If Claude starts to neigh like a fucking horse, I’m coming after you,” he warned.
Chapter 21
Having endured the onslaught of questions that had been fired at him during the press conference, Tyler made a beeline for the door the moment it concluded, deftly swerving an approach from Terri Miller, who was angling for an exclusive interview, in the process. Desperate to return to Arbour Square and crack on, he had dragged Steve Bull away from the canteen and sneaked out of the building before anyone else could waylay him.
Holland had a meeting scheduled at NSY with Kim Daily, the DCI from West who was leading the manhunt for Craig Masters, and he accompanied them into the rear yard.
“Bit late for a strategy meeting isn’t it?” Jack said, wondering why they weren’t leaving it until the morning.
Holland’s laugh was devoid of humour. “I’ve got to brief the Commissioner about it first thing in the morning,” he said, “so I need Kim to bring me up to speed tonight.”
Jack was surprised to hear that. At the end of the day, ignoring the fact that the victim and perpetrator were both famous, this was a simple domestic; one scene, one victim, one suspect and one key witness – the neighbour. They already knew who all the players were, and surely it was only a matter of time until they found Masters?
“Why’s the Commissioner taking an interest?” he asked.
“Because Katie Cunningham’s father is a Viscount, and the family are distant relatives of the Queen, and because her uncle is a Tory MP, that’s why. This one has become political; the Commissioner is getting pestered by influential people, and the grief he gets from them is filtering down to me and Kim.”
“I’m sure Masters will be caught soon enough,” Jack said. “Being that famous will work against him. He won’t be able to go anywhere without being recognised.”
Holland pulled a sour face. “He seems to have managed okay so far,” he pointed out.
◆◆◆
Immediately upon his return to Arbour Square, Jack asked Steve Bull to crack on with the paperwork for the surveillance operation on the squat where Angela Marley resided.
Having pushed the meeting back twice already, he finally sat down with Reg Parker and Tony Dillon to go through the phones. It was eight o’clock by then, and Kelly Flowers had kindly done a pizza run for the team.
“Can’t believe you resorted to poisoning Andy just to get this case,” Dillon said, tucking into his Hawaiian.
The comment appealed to Parker’s macabre sense of humour and he chuckled evilly.
“What makes you think I didn’t sprinkle a little something on your food, too?” Jack asked, his mouth full of Margherita.
“I reckon I’m safe,” Dillon replied with confidence. “You wouldn’t have anyone to nag if you poisoned me.”
“How is Mr Q?” Reg asked, taking a bite from his pepperoni. “Last I heard, he was still kneeling before the porcelain throne and doing the liquid scream.”
Dillon’s face turned pale. “Fuck sake, Reggie, I’m trying to eat!”
“Sorry boss,” Parker said with a wicked grin. Dillon could be such a wimp at times. He’d shrugged off yesterday’s assault with the lead-filled sap as though it was nothing, but talk about a decomposing body or someone being sick and his stomach curdled.
“Alison was taking him home,” Ryder said. “Poor sod looked like a seasick ghost.” Alison was Andy’s wife. He’d declined the offer to have a colleague drive him home, preferring to entrust himself into the care of his wife.
“I reckon he’ll be Être crevé for a few days at least,” Dillon said. “Probably given himself Salmonella or something”
“He’ll be what?” Jack asked.
“Être crevé,” Dillon repeated, pronouncing the words slowly. “It’s French for ‘to be flat, to be dead.’ It’s what they say when they’re bedridden.”
“I didn’t know you spoke frog,” Reggie said, impressed.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Dillon boasted. “I am an enigma, a man of mystery a –”
“Will you please shut up and let me eat my pizza in silence,” Jack said, cutting him off mid soliloquy.
“Reckon they’ll be fishing carrots out of trap one for days to come,” Reg said, glancing at Dillon out of the corner of his eye to see if he’d bite.
“If you say another word about being sick, DC Parker, I’m going to scrub all the overtime you’ve earned over the past couple of days off your duty sheet,” Dillon warned. He could play dirty too if that was how Reg wanted it.
“That’s a bit harsh,” Reg said, but he took the hint.
After they had finished off their food, they settled down to business. Parker gathered a bundle of forms and began going through them one by one.
“I’m going to be talking about four phones,” Parker said by way of introduction. “They are all unregistered pre-pays and they all became active a couple of days ago. Let’s start with the phone Gifford Mullings had on him,” he said. “The number ends in 973. This phone has only had contact with two other numbers, one ending in 777 and the other in 321. I think it’s safe to say these are the phones being used by the unknown doctor and Angela Marley. In interview, Mullings claimed Errol Heston was his mate, and that he’d recruited
