Callie went back over her surprise visit to David’s home as well. Had she seen any cigarettes then? There had been a packet that he’d chucked in the kitchen, out of her sight, and she was again sure that it had been dark green, just like in the report.
During her lunch break, Callie took a short walk to town and along the road to the shop where she had seen David Morris come out with the carton of cigarettes he was so keen to hide. It wasn’t a shop she had ever been in before and it was hard to see inside because the door and windows were covered to stop exactly that. She knew that the shopkeeper would be able to see out even if she couldn’t see in, so loitering outside wasn’t an option. If she wanted to see what was inside, she had to go in.
At that moment, a man came out and, seeing her hovering by the door, held it open for her.
“Thank you,” she said as she grasped the handle and went inside.
It was laid out much like every corner shop, with the counter by the door so that everyone would have to walk past it to leave the shop. There were cheap tins and packets of food crowding the shelves. Many of the labels were in foreign languages, and were for foods that Callie had never heard of, but more familiar British brands were there as well. Along with a large variety of alcohol, in bottles and cans, stacked at the back of the shop.
Aware that she was being watched by the woman behind the counter, Callie made for the chill cabinet and picked out a bottle of water. She hesitated over the ready-made sandwiches, before picking out a cheese and pickle one. She went to the till and put them on the counter. She could see a display case for cigarettes behind the assistant, but it was covered with brown paper so that she couldn’t see the brands. For once, Callie was dismayed that the law meant she couldn’t see the display.
“That all?” the woman asked in heavily accented English.
“Yes, erm, no. Do you sell cigarettes?” Callie could have kicked herself for asking such a foolish question, but she smiled and hoped the woman wouldn’t think she was too stupid.
“What make?” the woman asked.
“What’s the cheapest one you have?”
The woman gave her a look and reached into the cabinet behind her and slapped a packet down on the counter. It wasn’t the dark green pack that she had seen with Morris or that was pictured in the paper, but the woman was already ringing up her purchases on the till, so Callie handed over a twenty-pound note and got little change in return. Either she had bought a very expensive cheese and pickle sandwich or smoking was a more expensive habit than she had realised. She hoped it was the latter as she chucked the unopened packet of cigarettes in a bin as she passed. She hesitated, then fished them out again; safer to dispose of them at home, she thought. Just in case a child found them in the bin and decided to try them out.
* * *
All afternoon, Callie dithered about what she should do about her suspicions that the shop she had visited was dealing in counterfeit cigarettes. For a start, it was just a suspicion, it wasn’t like the shop had actually sold her one of the counterfeit packs.
Her first thought was that she should mention it to the police, but they had their hands full trying to track the people smugglers and with identifying the refugees. Another body had been found further along the coast and Callie sincerely hoped it would be the last.
She knew that she really should inform Trading Standards as they were the organisation who were investigating the scam, but then Kate wouldn’t be able to persuade her client to tell them and help himself.
In the end, as Kate was busy in court, presumably defending her smuggler, Callie left her a message saying that she had information that the cigarettes were being sold from a particular shop and that she would hold off telling Trading Standards until the next day, to give Kate a chance to get her man to tell them first. Neatly getting round her lack of proof and helping her friend, all in one go.
She allowed a short moment of smug satisfaction at how she had handled it and a mental pat on the back.
Chapter 15
Callie was still feeling pleased with herself. Her plan to put pressure on Kate’s client had worked and he had agreed to co-operate.
“They are going to raid the shop as soon as possible, but they were his only contact,” Kate told her. “He wasn’t able to help with who was organising it all, although he did say he didn’t think it was actually the people who ran the shop who were in charge.”
“Might be someone back in Eastern Europe, or wherever they came from,” Callie said.
“Possibly, although he seemed to think that it was someone here in Hastings. Anyway, Trading Standards have promised to put in a good word for him if it all pans out, so hopefully he won’t get too long a sentence.”
“Maybe they should stake the place out, see if they can catch whoever is organising it.”
