Page 67 of Better the Devil

‘He’s changed?’ Tyler cried. ‘Bosco Maximuke has changed? He tortured me! He was going to kill us. All of us.’

‘I know, son. I know. But… I don’t know. He’s different.’

‘Oh, so he’s a good guy now, is he? One of the boys?’

‘No. I’m not saying that,’ Logan replied. ‘I’m just saying… This. These victims. Belov. Crichton. I don’t think it was him.’

‘It’s pretty coincidental timing if not,’ Hamza countered.

‘No. I don’t think it is. I think someone chose now to act, expecting us to blame it on Bosco.’

‘Because it probably was him!’ Tyler insisted. ‘And even if it wasn’t, if it means we can sling him back in jail, sounds good to me.’

‘He doesn’t mean that,’ Sinead said.

Tyler deflated back down into his seat. ‘No. No, I don’t mean that. But… I just…’

‘Like I say, son, I get it,’ Logan told him. ‘I reacted in much the same way. Pushed him through a shower and tried to strangle him with the hose.’ He flinched. ‘Shite, forgot to warn Shona about that.’

‘You… strangled him?’ Ben asked.

Dave nodded his approval. ‘Hardy.’

‘More or less, aye. I mean, I didn’t kill him, obviously. I wanted to. Might’ve done, if I hadn’t come to my senses.’ He rubbed at the back of his head, and felt electric shocks of pain where the mirror had been smashed. ‘He’d heard about Victor Belov’s death, but Kendrick Crichton took him by surprise.’

‘And you believed him.’

‘To my deep and lasting regret, aye. Aye, I believed him,’ Logan replied.

‘How did he know about Belov?’ Hamza asked.

‘He was vague on that. Kept his ear to the ground, apparently.’

‘Not close enough if he didn’t hear about Crichton.’

Logan conceded the point to the DI. ‘No, seems not. He reckoned Belov was trying to step up, and had got himself on Crichton’s radar.

‘Why bother?’ Tyler asked. ‘Stepping up, I mean. Going to all that trouble trying to expand your empire when your wife’s sitting on a hundred-and-thirty million dollars.’

Ben choked on a sherbet lemon he’d barely had a chance to suck on. ‘Christ,’ he wheezed. ‘How much?’

‘She’s got a hundred-and-thirty million?’ Hamza asked. His eyes bulged, like his head could barely contain the thought of it. ‘Where? How?’

‘Actually, that’s something I’m hoping you can help us figure out,’ Logan said. ‘Tyler, teas, coffees, go.’ He rapped his knuckles on the board behind him. ‘Sinead, let’s get this thing updated.’

Logan flexed his fingers. Cracked his knuckles. Stretched his neck.

‘We’ve got a long day left ahead of us.’

A second BigBoard had been wheeled in. Tyler had helped Sinead pull the information together until he’d become too annoying and been dispatched for yet another round of teas and coffees.

Ben had suggested he go pick them all up some rolls for lunch fromAlice’s, the café he was now technically an employee of. It was his name on the lease, but he wasn’t the boss. Moira was the boss, and he just worked there.

‘Aw, cheers, nice one!’ Tyler had said as he’d pulled on his jacket, before Ben had pointed out that the rolls wouldn’t be free, and that Moira would likely have Tyler’s head on a spike if he so much as implied they should be.

Tyler had looked around for support that hadn’t been forthcoming.

‘Oh, so… what? Should I just pay for them myself?’