Ken Bruen - The McDead

But the man didn’t go and Brant let his testiness show, barked, ‘What?’

‘I think I can help you.’

‘Help me? And how the fuck could you help me?’

‘The Tommy Logan killing. I know who did it.’

Brant moved off his stool, took the man’s arm, said, ‘Let’s park it at the back.’

Moved to a table at the rear, Brant said, ‘Let’s hear it.’

‘A few weeks back, a man named Neville Smith cut up Tommy Logan in traffic. Later, Logan came to Smith’s house, terrorised him and his wife. Then, to complete the humiliation, Tommy Logan invited them to his party. Neville Smith is ex-army and a very proud man. His wife told Mary…

Brant wasn’t sure what to say, tried a gruff, ‘Thanks.’

It had to suffice. That evening Brant rang Roberts, laid out the story. Roberts listened without comment and Brant asked, ‘What will you do, guv?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Gets my vote.’

Two days later, Roberts got a package in the mail. No note or message, just a cassette tape. He read the title with a tight smile- Smokie’s Greatest Hits.

When Falls woke late on the Saturday morning, she went to get the paper before anything else. It was on Page four, a half column:

‘Man found naked and chained to a tree on Clapham Common. A notice round his neck read: ‘I AM THE COPYCAT RAPIST’. Police were issuing no statement until a full investigation could be launched.’

Falls looked up into a clear blue sky. Saw the trail of a plane, and didn’t expect it was heading for the Costa … But … you never could tell.