Page 76 of Better the Devil

Hamza breathed out. ‘Eh, cheers, sir. Jack. Sorry.’

They both turned back to the Big Board. ‘You?’ Logan asked.

Hamza frowned. ‘Me what?’

‘Any ideas on the condom wrapper?’

‘Oh. No.’

Hamza considered the photograph that showed the tiny strip of blue foil.

A thought occurred to him, slowly at first, then all of a sudden.

‘Shit.’

‘What’s the matter?’ Logan asked.

‘I don’t have any clue about the condom,’ Hamza said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the business card he’d been given earlier that day. ‘But I know a man who might.’

Callum Walker’sday was going from strength to strength.

Under normal circumstances, being singled out as Watchperson of the Year and presented with a trophy in front of an audience of his HAWKS peers would have absolutely been the highlight.

And, in many ways, it was. Everyone had clapped. Everyone had watched as he’d been handed the cup with his name on it. Everyone had seen, and so they now understood, without question, that he was the best of them.

He would likely savour that moment all the way to the grave. The roar of their applause. The looks of raw admiration from the women, and of seething envy from the men. Especially from the younger lads. The ones with the beards, and tattoos, and the military backgrounds. Some of them looked—and Callum didn’t use this term lightly—ruddy furious.

Yes, Callum would have absolutely, without question, said that the HAWKS prize-giving ceremony was the highlight of his day, had it not been for the events of the past thirty seconds.

‘You want my help, Detective Inspector?’

Anyone watching would’ve sworn under oath that Callum grew a couple of inches in his seat. Though DI Khaled couldn’t see him over the phone, Callum’s hand instinctively went to straighten his tie. He wasn’t wearing one, of course. He hadn’t done since he’d retired. But old habits died hard.

‘Well, I can’t say I’m entirely surprised. I could tell earlier that you sensed something in me. A certain kindred spirit, perhaps. A shared love for the law. I was a solicitor, you know? I mostly did houses and some light contract work, but I always suspected I’d have been a real tiger in a court of law. Metaphorically speaking. An actual tiger wouldn’t be welcome in court. Or… actively discouraged, even.’

He winced, and hoped the Detective Inspector couldn’t hear it down the line.

‘Sorry, went off on a wee tangent there. What was it you were after my help with? Some surveillance stuff? I’d be good at that. And, good grief, can you imagine Joe Robertson’s face? Aye, OK, he might have found a body, but there’d be me on a ruddy stakeout! Put that in your pipe and?—’

He fell silent as DI Khaled cut in to explain exactly why he was calling. His enthusiasm waned as it became clear that stakeouts were not on the cards.

Still, he quickly recalibrated.

‘Information? So… intel, you mean? That’s what you’re after? The word on the down and dirty streets of Aviemore?’ His chest puffed out. ‘You’ve come to the right man there. Anything I don’t know, I can find out. I’ve got my ways and means.’

He tapped the side of his nose, even though the detective inspector still couldn’t see him.

‘I’ve got ways and means like you wouldn’t believe, DI Khaled!’

He listened as the DI followed up with the obvious question.

‘I mean, mostly I’d just ask Cathy next door,’ he admitted. ‘Right nosy cow. You can’t break wind in the bakery without everyone in the bookshop knowing what you had for breakfast. Not that I’d… I wouldn’t break wind in the bakery. Not deliberately. Not with all the cakes.’

He took the phone from his ear, closed his eyes, and pressed the handset against his head while he silently reprimanded himself. He smiled before speaking into it again.

It was important to smile on the telephone. The person on the other end could pick up on it. That was the first thing he’d learned at his very first job after graduating all those years ago, and pretty much the only thing he remembered from it.

‘You want to know if this fella of yours has a fancy woman here in Aviemore? You have come to the right place, Detective Inspector. With or without Cathy, I will sniff that strumpet out, and furnish you with a full handwritten report first thing in the morning!’