Free The Sudden Arrival of Violence: A Glasgow Underworld Novel 3 by Malcolm Mackay Page B

outside with his mobile in it. Didn’t make it home last night. Made it as far as his car – that’s why the mobile’s there. So someone picks him up outside work. No reports of someone being forced into a car last night, so let’s say he goes willingly. You go willingly with someone you know. Who, that Hardy knows, would turn up at the end of the day and pick him up in the car park, rather than book an appointment? Someone with malicious intent, obviously. Someone with a lot to hide. Someone who’s concerned that Mr Hardy is no longer the best person to hide his secrets. Wouldn’t be any of the low-level crooks. They aren’t capable. Wouldn’t be willing, either. They just want things hidden away. No, it has to be someone growing. Or someone trying to grow. Someone very much like Shug Francis.
    It’s not exactly a case, but it’s a workable theory to be getting on with. Could be that Mr Hardy will walk through the door and ask what all the fuss is about. Could be that Shug has taken him, to talk: tell Hardy what he’s going to do for Shug now. Then he lets him go. Not likely. Not with a guy like Hardy. If he’s been taken, it’s to be killed. You don’t grab someone like him off the street just to give them a warning, or to force new instructions upon them. Nah, you grab them to get rid of them. Can’t release someone like Hardy and trust him to follow instructions. Someone who perhaps doesn’t understand the consequences. Someone who thinks the police can protect him. No. If they took Hardy, they took him to kill him. He’ll be dead already. That should give Fisher the power he needs to get all this paperwork investigated.
    Needs to find out more about Hardy. Find out how close he was to his clients. One in particular. Find out if he had any debts. If he was fiddling around with women he should have avoided. Long shot, but it could catch you out. You go racing after Shug, and find out Hardy had three mistresses and a mountain of gambling debts – they’ll be laughing at you for months. First, prove that there could have been no other motive. Then go for Shug. Until then, he needs to keep this quiet. Higgins he trusts. That boy’s been useful before. Smart and honest, willing to work. McIntyre, on the other hand . . . Going to have to be more careful with him. Those two old biddies across the hall aren’t to be trusted, either. Nothing Fisher can do to stop them blethering away to their leathery-skinned, turkey-necked peers. Witnesses – they really are insufferable!
    Fisher’s going out into the hall. Higgins and McIntyre are both there.
    ‘Don’t need two of you,’ he’s saying. ‘Higgins, you stay here, you can help me bag some of this. You,’ he’s saying to the other one, ‘can go and find something else to do.’ That means: go and do anything that doesn’t have you under my feet. Sod who you’re supposed to be working with – I don’t want you here.
    McIntyre’s nodding. Looking a little downcast, but that’s for show. This gives him the opportunity to dawdle his way back to the station. Fisher’s given him the chance to piss away the next hour or so. McIntyre’s not the sort of man to waste such an opportunity.
    Higgins, on the other hand, is walking briskly into the office, eager to help. He knows Fisher’s the sort of guy who could get him interesting cases. Maybe even push a promotion his way. The sort of cop who can hold your career in his hands.
    ‘Close that bloody door,’ Fisher’s saying with a frown. He can hear the door across the hall opening again. He might be more patient with the women if they were useful. They have no idea about Hardy’s clients. No idea about Hardy twisting the numbers in his accounts. No idea about his home life. Bloody useless.
    ‘The women across the hall identified the man who came today as Ashraf Dutta,’ Higgins is saying. ‘His family have been known to the police for some time.’
    ‘They have,’ Fisher’s nodding. ‘His son