Oh dear, thought Wield. To a cop, family squabbles leading to domestic violence were a commonplace of Christmas Day. He hadn't anticipated getting personally involved.
'He's not a criminal,' he said. 'But I'll be giving it back to him anyway.'
'And break the little darling's heart? Don't be silly. If you don't want the links, I'll have them. I'll tell people the initials stand for Eternally Worried, that's me.'
He turned away, his shoulders shaking as if at some barely restrained emotion.
'Edwin, there's no need for you to worry…' Digweed turned to face him, still shaking but now the emotion was clear and audible.
'My dear Edgar, what do you take me for?' he said, laughing. 'I may shoot you but I will never play the sulky jealous type. And besides, you say this young man is nineteen but could pass for ten or eleven? I can see you looking appreciatively at a good-looking yunker, but I have never detected the smallest morsel of paedophilia in your make-up. Also, in my experience, cuff links are not the kind of gift a lad gives to his lover. They are more what a son gives to his dad. So, no jealousy, believe me. But some concern. You may not be attracted to young Lubanski, but you are sorry for him and, to a man in your position, that can be more dangerous than sex. You will take care, won't you?'
'He's at risk.'
'No. You are. Don't confuse the apparent child with the real adult. But that's for the morrow. Carpe diem, dear Edgar. And here's a little something to help preserve it too.'
He tossed over a package which Wield ripped open to reveal a mini camcorder.
'Jesus,' he said with real feeling. 'Thanks a million. This must have cost a fortune.'
'Self-interest,' said Digweed. 'I understand that you with your computer expertise will be able to make films of me, then doctor them so that I look and move twenty years younger. I can hardly wait for the experiment to begin.'
And after that Christmas had been everything Lee's card claimed it should be.
Wield could not remember a time in his life when he'd been happier. And because he was happy, he wanted everyone else to be happy too, but this he knew was not even a possibility in that other uncontrollable world that lay in ambush for him whenever he ventured east of Eendale. So now as he approached his rendezvous, his mind rilled with foreboding as he spotted the pale-faced boy who stood in wait for him like Cathy waiting for Heathcliff, outlined against the scudding clouds of a wild and wintry Yorkshire sky.
He had changed their meeting spot partly because regular encounters even somewhere as anonymous as Turk's could draw attention, but mainly because he didn't want any audience if Lubanski got upset with what he was about to hear.
For this was definitely their last meeting.
Dalziel, impressed by the accuracy of the tips so far, had urged Wield to get his new informant signed up properly. Wield knew this wasn't going to happen, but he didn't mind making the proposal because he reckoned this would draw a line under their relationship. The idea of simply continuing to take advantage of the boy's vulnerability and emotional instability filled him with revulsion. Before they parted, he would do his best to persuade Lee out of the dangerous and degrading life he was leading, though, being a realist, he had little hope of success. But no way was he going to let the boy's evident misconceptions about their current relationship continue.
Now Lee turned and saw him, and his change of expression from abandoned puppy dolour to here-comes- master delight struck Wield to the heart and turned the stern words he'd prepared bitter in his mouth, and he heard himself saying, 'Hi, Lee. Good Christmas?'
'Yeah. Made a bundle.'
'I didn't mean trade, Lee’ said Wield, thinking what a stupid question it had been. 'Listen, I've got something to say to you.'
'Me first,' said the youth. 'There's something real big going down in the New Year.'
'Lee’ said Wield, steeling his resolve. 'It's time we put a stop.’
'No, listen, this is really good. I made some notes after. I've got them here.'
Proudly he handed over a sheet of cheap writing paper covered with a childish scrawl.
Tear it up, Wield told himself. Tell him you don't want to know, it's all over, you're washing your hands of him. He's got his own life to live and if you can't make it any better, the least you can do is not make it any worse.
But even as the voice of the man inside spoke these words in his head, the eyes of the cop outside were reading the words on the paper.
B said that things were OK and man in Sheffield shuddunt worry and man in she fsaid that was for him to deside and there's been plenty to worry about already how did B explain that. And B said coincidence and it hadn 't made a difference had it and everything was on as planned for January and the upfront many would be deposited as arranged. And man in Shefsaid it had better be and he rang off.
Now Wield was all cop.
He said, 'This B… he's your source for these tips, is he? You do business with him?'
'Yeah, that's right. Regular. He really goes for me. And he's got one of them speaker phones and he seems to like talking to people while we're, like, doing it…not about it, though he does that too on the net, but real business talk, and the others've got no idea that I'm there doing it…'
Oh God. The Oval Office syndrome. Some guy full of a sense of his own importance and getting a kick out of…
His imagination shut out the picture of the act just as Lee's misplaced delicacy had refused to put it into words.
He said, 'So this man in Sheffield, there was no name mentioned?'
'No. Well, not really.'
Something there? Maybe. But concentrate on facts before you start chasing fancies.
'How do you know he was in Sheffield?'
Lee screwed up his eyes in thought then said, 'Because Belchy asked if he was still in Sheffield and he said yes.'
‘Belchy?
‘B for Belchy.
Oh shit. If what he was thinking was true, there was no way Andy Dalziel was ever going to let this boy go.
Grasping the nettle at once he said, 'Belchy would be Marcus Belchamber, right?'
Lee didn't answer but he didn't need to. Alarm was twisting his boyish features.
'Right?' insisted Wield.
'I didn't tell you that!'
Wield felt a mingling of pity and exasperation. The stupid boy thought it was safe to pass on information as long as he didn't name names. As if it would make the slightest difference to Belchamber that his name had been guessed rather than betrayed. But it clearly made a difference to Lee, and that was something a good cop could play on.
‘Despising himself, Wield said reassuringly, 'Of course you didn't, Lee. Whatever happens, we'd make that quite clear. We've known all along, you see. It's always that way, we know a lot more than we ever let on.'
The upside of giving an impression of omniscience, besides calming the boy's fears and making him more malleable, was that it might make him start thinking of Wield as a part of the huge legal machine rather than an individual.
'So you knew all this stuff I've given you?'
'Most’ said Wield. 'But what you told us was great for tying up loose ends. In fact, I don't know what we'd have done without it. You've done really well.'
The boy looked so pleased that Wield felt his old guilt well up. However this played, this was definitely the last time, he assured himself.
But he was getting way ahead of the game.
He said, 'So, no names, you say? What about when they said cheerio?'
'The man in Sheffield just hung up. Then Tobe got on the net…'
