Someone Who Isn't Me, Danuta Kot [good books to read for adults TXT] 📗

that shit. So tonight, a kid goes past me on a mountain bike, next thing I know, I’ve got these packets in my hand and the kid’s gone.’

‘Any other contact?’

Andy shook his head.

‘So who is it?’

‘Someone I’ve been talking to in the pub, but I don’t know who. Not for sure. There’s a bunch of bikers, probably up for anything. They don’t look like big players, but I think they’re involved – they probably move the stuff around. They’ll know who to pass word on to. The contact name I’ve got is Stoner – and before you ask, no I don’t know him. I just have to wait for them to contact me.’ Andy sounded frustrated.

Curwen grunted, but he was pleased. This was the most promising lead they had – they couldn’t blow it now. ‘Any developments at the pub? What does your informant say? Becca the— Your barmaid.’

‘She hasn’t seen anything odd going over the bar, or not when she’s been there. We talk a lot and she’s never mentioned drugs or anything.’

‘It won’t be happening in the bar itself. If they’re storing stuff, it’ll be in the cellars. Look, we’ve talked about this.’

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m not saying Lavery’s clean. I’m just saying the pub might be.’

‘Get those cellars checked before you write the place off.’ Curwen was impatient. If Andy had done his job right with Becca the Barmaid, they’d have that information already. ‘What about those bags she saw Lavery carrying? Has she seen any more?’

Andy shook his head. ‘I haven’t asked her. I’m not getting her into trouble.’

Curwen closed his eyes. For fuck’s sake. Andy was such a fucking boy scout. ‘We need to know what was in them.’

Andy shook his head. ‘They weren’t down there when she looked later.’

Curwen knew where they would have been. The layout of that cellar was etched into his mind. He could remember the locked door to the cupboard built into the wall, and the sense of anticipation as they opened it with the key Lavery had handed over reluctantly, his face tense. ‘There’s a cupboard in the cellar. Your barmaid needs to check that.’

Andy frowned. ‘I told you. She can’t get in there.’

‘Lavery’s got the key. She could probably get her hands on it. Have you asked her?’ It had been a simple mortice lock, a two-lever one. A skeleton key would work. ‘You could give her a key that would open—’

But Andy was shaking his head emphatically. ‘That’s criminal behaviour. I told you. I’m not getting her into trouble over this. She isn’t even a registered informant. I’m worried she’s already in too deep. Lavery didn’t seem too happy that she’d seen him with the bags.’

‘Fine. Point taken.’ Curwen was pissed off, but now was not the time to alienate Andy. He was a stubborn sod and there was no point in trying to change his mind on this. As Curwen’s gaze fell on Andy’s phone, still lying on the table where Andy had left it, he began to get an idea. He needed five minutes alone with that phone and…

He knew how to get Becca the Barmaid to do what he wanted. And what Andy didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

‘OK. They’ve given you the samples, now we wait until they make contact.’

‘You think they will?’ Andy said.

‘You’ve put out the right feelers. You can move the stuff on fast and pay top rate – they’ll be interested enough to want to know more. And they’ve given you the samples. They’ll be in touch.’

This was where it could get tricky. One whiff of cop and they’d go to ground so deeply Andy and Curwen wouldn’t be able to find them again, but Curwen didn’t have the backup to protect Andy in the course of an actual meet. What they needed was the contact, details of the meet, then Curwen could take it higher up.

He had to set it up right, to make it his operation, which meant getting everything in place before he reported it in, but not leave it so long that the smugglers realised what Andy was up to and vanished. Or worse. Curwen had his story ready. This lead came from the previous investigation, something he’d followed up in the course of completing his report. He’d dug down a bit, realised it was much bigger than it had looked at first. Curwen would get his big arrest, which would outweigh any reprimand about being overzealous with a warrant, especially if Lavery was pulled into the net.

Curwen knew Lavery was involved. What he didn’t know for sure was if Lavery was one of the smugglers, or if he was just storing the stuff. Either way, Curwen would be vindicated, and his promotion should be in the bag.

But in the meantime, in case this contact faded away, he needed to get more information about what was stored in the pub cellar. Andy was refusing to involve Becca the Barmaid. But a plan was starting to form in Curwen’s mind.

He could ask her. Kind of.

Andy’s phone sat there on the table. Curwen wasn’t going to get another chance. He picked it up and began turning it over in his hand. ‘They’ll give you a bit of time to get the stuff tested, then they’ll be in touch, set up a meeting. That’s when we get the backup and go after them.’

Normal drug deals were simple cash transactions between the dealer and the buyer. Curwen and his team had picked up loads of dealers in Bridlington – rats in a barrel, basically. But Andy and Curwen had been fishing for much bigger prey – the smugglers who were bringing the stuff in.

Curwen was gambling here. He had to call in backup, but not until they’d got enough evidence. A couple of baggies wouldn’t cut it, and he couldn’t reveal the undercover operation – he and Andy would both be in the shit.

The meet. When the meet was set up. That was the time to get support.

Andy was still