Page 99 of Better the Devil

Logan looked from Ben to the men beyond the mirror, and back again. ‘Right, to hell with this, I’m going in,’ he announced, turning back towards the door.

‘Hold on,’ Ben urged. He chewed. Swallowed. Rummaged around in the bag again. ‘Give it a minute.’

‘I was aware of them. From prison,’ Bosco began, his voice slow and careful, like he was choosing his words. ‘Victor Belov. Kendrick Crichton. I had been told of their moves to fill void left by… my organisation.’

Logan stopped to listen. Ben held out the open bag of popcorn, but the DCI dismissed it with a shake of his head.

‘How did that make you feel?’ Reeve asked.

‘Angry. At first. But for not long. I did not hold grudge. By then, I had found God.’

‘Hallelujah,’ Reeve chimed in, without an apparent ounce of irony.

‘By then, all I care about is getting out. Is seeing my daughter. My Olivia.’

He stressed the word “my” like it was for the benefit of the man on the other side of the mirror.

‘That is why I make deal. Turngrass. For daughter. For family.’

‘He’s so full of shite, I can smell it on his breath through the glass,’ Logan muttered.

Ben glanced down at his popcorn, but then carried on eating, regardless.

‘So, I phone her. I phone her, to tell her I am coming home in few weeks, that we will soon be together.’

Logan found himself taking a step closer to the glass.

‘What did she have to say about that?’ Reeve asked.

Logan held his breath. Waited. Waited.

In the other room, Bosco sighed and shrugged. ‘Nothing. I get no reply. She just hang up phone and block number.’

The Russian lowered his head and looked down at his fingers, which had become knotted together over the past minute or two.

‘I get feeling that Olivia wishes I was rotting in jail forever.’

‘Gotthat printout you asked for, boss.’

Logan crooked a finger in Tyler’s direction as he headed for his office. ‘Bring it in here and shut the door.’

Tyler shot a worried look across the desks to Sinead, but she reassured him with a smile and a shake of her head that he wasn’t in any trouble.

Rising to his feet, Tyler picked up a sheet of paper still warm from the printer, then scurried after the DCI.

The page was whipped from his hand the moment he entered the office.

‘Door,’ Logan reminded him, his eyes already scanning the text on the printout.

The list was short, and he found Olivia’s number almost straight away. A glance at the date confirmed what Harris and Bosco had both said. Olivia’s father had called her almost a month ago from prison.

The call had lasted fourteen seconds. Nowhere near long enough for them to formulate any sort of plan together.

But long enough to warn her he was coming.

‘Is that what you needed, boss?’ Tyler asked.

Logan looked up as if surprised the detective constable was still there. ‘What? Oh. Aye. Aye, that’s it.’