Post Mortem, Gary Bell [best fiction novels .txt] 📗

knew, I was giving a lift to two of his mates I didn’t know. All there was to do, they said, was drop them off back at their place, where my boy would pick up the sniff, and then we’d be nothing but a couple of princes on our way to the ball. The sexy ball, you feel me?’

‘Yes,’ Zara said. ‘I think we got that.’

He grinned softly. ‘We turned up to the place and I waited outside while they went in.’

‘And let me guess,’ I offered, ‘instead of collecting the drugs, the dealers were killed.’

‘Of course,’ he said, the grin somehow remaining. ‘I couldn’t even tell you how long I was sitting out there behind the wheel. Hours I guess, but the sirens woke me up. The police said I went in with one of those, what do you call them? Zombie knives. This thing was still sticking out of some fool’s chest.’

‘And this mate of yours?’ I asked. ‘The one you’d driven from London.’

‘Slipped out the back door and left me behind.’

‘So,’ Zara said, ‘one more time, if you don’t mind. This friend of yours wants drugs. The local dealers aren’t home, so he presumably makes a phone call and you have to go and pick them up. These two dealers willingly get into your vehicle and show you to their place. Then, as soon as all three men are inside, your friend turns around and kills them both?’

‘That’s it. That’s been my argument all along. They had this dog, you see. Big fucker. Pure white. An Argentino, they call it. Mexican or something. I don’t know how anybody could pull a knife with that fucker around and still get out of there without either wasting the dog first or getting torn up enough to leave a hefty trail of DNA behind.’

‘The dog was loose in the same room at the time?’ I asked.

‘Yep.’

‘How can you be certain?’

A grim chuckle, darkening his eyes to something far less friendly. ‘By the time Old Bill got there, the animal had turned hungry and been at one of the bodies. Guts everywhere. A real mess. The first pig to walk into the place lost half his left hand. He’s scarred up to the shoulder now. He managed to put a taser into the dog and gave it a heart attack, which killed any chance of being able to prove that the mutt wouldn’t recognise me.’

‘Why would these two dealers have done that?’ I mused. ‘I mean, why would they invite their own killer inside? A rival from London, no less?’

‘Isn’t that obvious?’ Reid leaned forward. ‘These players weren’t rivals. They were part of the same game. Word is these two dealers, they were sort of, like, end-of-the-line pushers.’

‘For a county lines operation?’ Zara asked, briefly catching my eye.

‘If that’s what they’re calling it.’ He shrugged. ‘They get given a place to live, an area to run, and even their own dog to hold the stash. It’s like a franchise. Only, these fools decided to cheat the system. They had their hands in the till. Management aren’t into that, so they sent someone down from head office to have a word. Start afresh.’

‘Did the men talk between themselves in your car?’ I asked. ‘Did they seem amicable?’

‘That’s the fucked-up thing,’ he said. ‘My mate – former mate, I should say – acted like he didn’t know them at all. He was making out he got this number from somebody else, but he had to have known them, right? Shit, this dog’s territorial enough to rip a cop’s hand off, but it lets a stranger put a knife through its owners.’

‘Maybe the dog was scared of the knife?’ Zara tried.

‘I doubt it,’ I said. ‘I’ve seen the breed and I don’t believe they’d back down from anything. Not unless …’ I fell momentarily quiet.

Yes, I had seen them. They’d been savage, incredibly so, right up until Jacob Werner had arrived. But was it really Werner they were afraid of? Or was it something he’d said?

‘Obey …’ I muttered to myself.

Reid tipped his head. ‘Come again?’

‘What if it wasn’t the face they recognised?’ I asked. ‘What if the management, as you call them, have a keyword already trained into the animals?’

At my side, Zara snapped her fingers. ‘Of course! This guy walks in and pulls a knife. The dog rears up, but before anything happens your mate says the magic word and the dog falls onto its haunches!’

Reid shook his head in disbelief. ‘Holy shit. You are worth the money. Does this mean you could get me out?’

‘The story is logical enough,’ I said, ‘but there’s a gaping flaw, as far as your defence is concerned.’

‘Which is?’

‘The prosecution could simply suggest that you were the killer invited inside. That there was no mate to begin with. You made it past the dog the same way your so-called friend must have, because you were the assassin sent there by management. Then, when you pulled the knife, you said the magic word.’

His face sank. ‘What I just told you is the truth. I wouldn’t even know the damn word!’

‘That may be so, but can’t you see the hole? Unless you can somehow prove that you never left that car, then your appeal would be lost before it begins. Although …’

‘Although?’ His ears perked.

‘There could be another way,’ I said. ‘Tell the truth. The entire truth. Throw the real killer under the bus.’

Every bit of humour left the room. ‘Are you serious?’ he asked.

‘Why not?’ Zara joined. ‘Your mate left you behind to take the fall. He’s out there right now enjoying the freedom that should be yours.’

‘I don’t care. I won’t roll on him.’

‘So, tell us about the gang instead,’ I pressed. ‘You seem to know enough about their business. Do they have a name?’

‘No. I don’t know.’

‘How about the E10 Cutthroats?’ Zara asked.

That, apparently, was the final straw. ‘What the fuck is going on here?’ he snapped. ‘I hired you for advice about my appeal,