G. Moffat - Blindside

‘Why not?’

‘I haven’t been in the States for a while and I’ve been out of any recognised agency for even longer. They don’t want someone like me. Someone they can’t control.’

‘So what was that all about? I mean, him saying he’d think about it.’

‘He was humouring me.’

‘But we ’re done here, right?’

‘We’re booked in the hotel for three nights. Why don’t we make the most of it?’

‘You want to do something about this, don’t you? I can see it in your face. Even if Webb wasn’t serious about taking you on in some official capacity. You want to be involved.’

Cahill shrugged.

‘Christ. You are unbelievable, Alex. You know that?’

‘Calm down. I mean, Bruce still has to get back to us on the “D. Hunter” thing that Melanie found, so why don’t we at least check on that while we’re here?’

‘And we can feed whatever we find out into Webb, right?’

‘Sure.’

‘That was the single most unconvincing thing you have ever said to me. And that’s saying a lot.’

They got to the hotel after six. It was a modern four-star affair with a restaurant on the ground floor and a spacious reception and bar area on the next level. They checked in quickly and went to the room — a decent-sized space with two double beds.

‘Cosy,’ Cahill said when they walked in.

Logan found a TV concealed behind doors in a unit opposite the beds and turned to a local news channel. They unpacked their gear in a few minutes, storing the bags in the unit beneath the TV.

‘You going to call Melanie Stark?’ Logan asked.

Cahill looked at his watch. ‘Yeah, I guess I should.’

‘At least it’s good news.’

Cahill stared at him.

‘I mean, sort of.’

‘I suppose.’

‘I’ll go explore the hotel. Give you some time to make the call alone. Then we can grab some dinner.’

Logan went down to the ground floor and got a coffee to go from an outlet there. After that, he went to the reception level and saw signs for a shopping mall which he followed to a set of double doors that led directly on to the first floor of the mall. He wasn’t sure if the mall or the hotel was there first.

He wandered along looking at the shops and went down to the ground level where he found a rent-a-car desk. He figured they would be better off with a car than taking taxis or being on foot.

He sat on a bench outside a fast-food outlet and felt the nausea that Cahill had warned him about. It was low level, but still unpleasant. He couldn’t stand sitting there with the smell wafting out of the place so he walked back up the stairs, following the signs for the hotel. He pulled out his phone and saw that he had a voicemail message.

Ellie had left a short message telling him that she was fine and not to worry. That he could call her any time anyway. He smiled when he heard her voice.

Back in the room, Cahill was sombre.

‘Tough call?’ Logan asked, sitting on his bed.

Cahill nodded. ‘How did you get on?’ he asked.

‘Other than feeling sick…’

‘What did I tell you?’

‘… I found a car rental place. I figured we should get a car while we’re here.’

‘Good idea. You can do that tomorrow after breakfast.’

‘You mean we can do it?’

‘No.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I’ve got an errand to run.’

‘Alex…’

‘It’s nothing. Just personal.’

Logan squinted at him, unsure if he was being lied to. He decided to leave it for now.

‘Oh, and Bruce sent me an e-mail.’

‘Anything interesting?’

‘Only four D. Hunters in the metro Denver area.’

‘Bruce get backgrounds on them?’

‘Of course. All pretty bland.’

‘We’re still going to give them to the FBI to check them out, though. Right?’

‘Not right now. I mean, we can do some preliminary digging around now that we’re here.’

Logan didn’t have the energy to argue with him any more.

‘Whatever. Look, I’m going to watch some TV and then get to sleep.’

Cahill looked at his watch.

‘It’s only gone seven. What about dinner?’

‘If I make it to nine I’ll be doing well enough. And I’m not in the mood to eat.’

‘Suit yourself. I’m going to go for a walk. I’ll grab a burger or something.’

Logan couldn’t muster the enthusiasm to ask him if that was a casual walk or something else altogether.

Cahill saw the look on his face.

‘Jesus, it’s just a walk.’

Thursday

Irvine logged on to her computer at Pitt Street and checked her e-mails. There was one from Armstrong timed at six-thirty the night before telling her about his visit to the agents who handled the lettings for the accountants. It was short and to the point:

Dead end. Speak tomorrow.

Irvine took her file of papers out and went through what they had so far. It might not lead her anywhere, but at least it would focus her mind on things. Maybe it would allow her to figure out where they went with the inquiry now. She jotted down some brief notes on a pad as she read. When she was done, she looked over the notes she had made: Fentanyl/Heroin — Russia? Overdoses — bad drugs Lewski body dump — dealer did it? Dealer and Lewski involved — sex Cops and Lewski? Accountants and Lewski? Suzie Murray — is she lying + does she know the dealer?

She leaned back in her chair and thought about the last point. In the aftermath of the encounter with the man on the stairs she had kind of rushed through the interview with Murray. She looked in the file again for the notes she had made after the interview and re-read them.

Murray had said that Lewski moved into the flat about a month ago and she was the one who knew the dealer — the man who had assaulted Irvine. According to Murray’s story, Lewski had brought him to the flat a couple of weeks later. But Murray never used his gear. Lewski traded sex for her stuff. The stuff that had probably killed her.

A question nagged at Irvine’s mind — if she was right in thinking it was the dealer who had dumped Lewski’s body in the river, why had he gone back to see Murray the day after Lewski’s death? He would have known that the flat would be checked out by the police and that Murray would be questioned. So it was a risk for him to go there. A big risk.

Irvine couldn’t think what the reason might be. She looked down at the notes again. The only thing she could think of was drugs. That the dealer had left some of the bad gear at the flat and went to get it. But she couldn’t convince herself that a small stash of the stuff — only enough for personal use — would be worth the risk to him. And he had not been carrying any large package when she had encountered him.

She called Armstrong. It rang three times before he answered.

‘Kenny, I’ve been thinking about this Lewski thing again. It occurred to me that there might be something Suzie Murray hasn’t told us. About her relationship with the guy who gave Lewski the drugs.’

‘The guy who gave you the black eye?’

‘Yes.’

‘What about him?’

‘Well, I mean, why would he go back to the flat the next day and risk a confrontation with us? He would know that we would go to the flat and try to speak to Murray. What was so important to him that he would risk that?’

‘Drugs, probably.’

‘I thought of that. But he wouldn’t risk it for a small stash, would he?’

Armstrong was quiet for a while.

‘I wouldn’t do it if it was me. But I’m not him. These guys are not the smartest, you know.’

‘The top guys are.’

‘They think they are.’

‘I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense to me.’