Page 142 of Better the Devil

No risk, no danger, no violence. One phone call. A few scripted sentences, and he was done. There’d be no money in it for him, but that was fine. He would have refused it anyway, he insisted. But he’d have proven himself. He’d have demonstrated his loyalty.

‘I didn’t realise it was the dead fella in the car until tonight,’ Callum whispered.

He’d whispered through most of the explanation, like he was afraid that someone might overhear him.

‘I mean… I suspected. I suppose I did know, really. I just didn’t want to admit it. He was a drug dealer, wasn’t he? This sort of thing, it happens all the time in their world. Crime. Criminals. It’s a risky business.’

He covered his mouth with a shaking hand, his eyes filling with tears.

‘But then Joe. Poor Joe.’ He broke, his face crumpling like the scrunched-up tissue he pulled from a pocket. ‘What did Joe ever do to anyone?’

‘Was he involved?’ Hamza asked. ‘In the blackmail?’

Callum shook his head. Firmly. Emphatically. ‘No. No, not at all. Not that I know of. He wouldn’t. He was a good man. Better than most. But he found the body, didn’t he? He had to see… that. And, and it must’ve been too much. What he saw. It… it must’ve been too much for him because?—’

He sobbed. A bubble of snot swelled and popped.

‘Oh, God, Joe.’

‘You’re alright, Callum,’ Hamza assured him. ‘You’ve done the right thing coming to me with this.’

He started to take out his notebook, then thought better of it and took out his phone instead.

‘These people. The ones who got you mixed up in all this.’ Without looking, he tapped in his contacts until he reached the number for the Incident Room. ‘Tell me who they are.’

Sergeant Fleck inchedthe door of the Incident Room open and peeked inside.

‘Um, can I come in?’ he asked.

‘Aye, course. In you come,’ Dave urged, beckoning him over.

Fleck entered, exhaling heavily, like it was a relief to be back on home territory after the night he’d had.

‘How’d it go?’ Dave asked, his attention fixed on his computer screen.

‘Rough.’

Dave’s fingers click-clacked across the keys. ‘She upset?’

‘His wife of forty years?’ Fleck asked. ‘Was she upset? Well, she certainly wasn’t happy.’

‘That’s fair,’ Dave said.

‘I would’ve been up here sooner, but got roped into helping with the fingerprint processing,’ the sergeant announced. He looked around the otherwise empty room. ‘DCI Logan interviewing her now?’

‘Yep.’

Tap-tap-tap.

Click-clack-click.

‘What you doing?’ Fleck asked, joining Dave at his computer. ‘That the blockchain?’

Dave’s fingers paused, mid-stroke. ‘Aye. How’d you know?’

Fleck shrugged. ‘Used to dabble a bit. Years back, when it was all kicking off. Find anything?’

‘I mean… Aye. No. I don’t know,’ Dave said.