The Crooked Beat Read Online Free Page B

for. Bad people. I was told if I didn’t follow the instructions I was given, I’d lose my job. And that was just for starters. They wanted some cigarettes bringing through this time.’
    I couldn’t believe the man’s naivety. ‘Have you mentioned my brother to anyone?’
    He shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t do that.’
    I stared until he looked away. I was sure he’d got the message. ‘What about the police? Why didn’t you go to them?’
    ‘How could I? I was stupid, but they made it very clear what would happen if I did. They sent me photos of my kids running around in the school playground.’ Hill had my attention. ‘If they can get to them at school, they can get to them anywhere.’
    I felt bad hearing his story, but I needed the details. ‘Tell me about the cigarettes.’
    ‘They smuggled them in through big coffee tins. They’re just the right size. Some of them were emptied out and the cartons were packed in with sweetcorn, so it’d feel and sound right if they were inspected. It was all catering supplies. All I know was that it was something that they’d been planning for a while. Months, probably. But things changed. I was told they were arriving and I had to deal with them. I tried to explain it wasn’t my job to sort it out. My job was to look the other way, but they needed somewhere to store them. I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I went back to Gillespie. He said he knew someone with a lock-up. It was the best we could do at short notice. It was only going to be for a couple of days.’
    ‘Right.’
    ‘You can’t tell anyone about this.’
    ‘Who do they belong to?’ I asked.
    He told me he didn’t know. He was genuinely scared. I knew he was nothing more than a family man who was in over his head, but I couldn’t afford to let him off the hook. ‘Don’t bullshit me,’ I said. ‘I need to know who they belonged to.’
    ‘I don’t know.’
    I sat back in my chair. ‘You’ve got to give me something. It’s the only way I can help.’ I hated the look of gratitude on his face as I spoke. I wasn’t doing this for him.
    ‘They gave me a mobile. It’s pay-as-you-go, so I have to top it up. The man who’s in charge calls me, but I don’t know his name. He withholds his number, so I can’t call him. I have to wait for him to contact me.’
    I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, unsure of my next move. ‘And you’ve got no idea who he is?’
    Hill shook his head. ‘I only see his workers, Tom and Jerry. I’m sure that’s not their real names.’
    I tried to keep the sarcasm out of my voice as I agreed with him. I knew pay-as-you-go meant the mobile would be untraceable. It would all be cash and false addresses. Even so, I asked to see it. Hill rummaged about in his pocket and passed it over. I scrolled through the list of calls. All withheld numbers. There was nothing.
    ‘One of the men sent me a text message,’ Hill said.
    I worked out how to access them and found the one I wanted. It was dated a few days before the cigarettes were stolen from the lock-up. The message told Hill that he should be ready. His guests would be arriving the following morning. Guests obviously meant the cigarettes. It made sense, but sending a text message was a basic error. I transferred the number it had come from into my mobile and told him to go back to work.
     
    It felt strange to be back in the office we’d shared as Ridley &Son. Sarah was sitting in what had been her usual place. I found myself doing the same. We had a desk and chair each, but that was it. Don had arranged for all our case files to be held in storage. The office felt twice as large without the rest of the furniture. I stared at the carpet and could see the marks the now-removed filing cabinets had left. The walls were bare. The framed prints we’d displayed had all been bought for next to nothing in the nearby indoor market, but the room felt wrong without them there. It was like there was no trace of the