Free The Crooked Beat by Nick Quantrill

should I look closer to home?’
    He pointed at me. ‘Let’s be clear Mr Geraghty, you’re the one who came to me. You’re the one who asked me the question.’
    I told him we were clear on that.
    He waved my card at me. ‘She once had an affair with your Don Ridley.’
    I wasn’t expecting to hear that. I asked him when this affair had taken place.
    ‘I’m going back a long way. I don’t see how it’s relevant. I shouldn’t have said anything.’
    ‘How long ago?’
    ‘I don’t know. More than a couple of decades ago. Ancient history.’ He walked to the door, opened it and asked me to leave. ‘I really shouldn’t be having this conversation with you.’
     
    I sat in my car and rubbed my face. I wasn’t expecting to learn that Don had once had an affair. Nor did I know what to do with the information. I stared at Sarah’s number in my mobile before I pressed call. I knew if I didn’t call her, she’d call me.
    ‘I’ve spoken with Neil Farr,’ I said.
    ‘Learn anything useful?’
    ‘Not really.’ I immediately felt bad for lying to her. Instinctively, I knew I couldn’t tell her about Don’s affair. It would break her heart. I told Sarah I’d keep trying and asked her if she’d found anything more out about George Sutherland.
    ‘He’s skint. His last accounts show that he owes money to a lot of different people. His business empire has crumbled due to the recession and no one wants to buy his house. Apart from the pub, that’s pretty much all he’s got. He’s managed to lose everything else. It seems he’s remortgaged what he could and there’s nothing left.’
    I thanked Sarah for the information. It explained why he was smuggling cigarettes into the country. He was desperate.
    ‘What are you going to do, Joe?’
    ‘I need to know more about Sutherland.’ I knew that was the only way forward if I was going to sort this mess out. ‘I need to find his weakness. I need an angle on him.’
    ‘We’ll find it.’
    I could almost hear the smile in her voice. I ended the call, pleased I had someone to share the load with.
     
    I headed for a cafe off George Street in the city centre. I borrowed their telephone directory and found the number for the police station in Queens Gardens. My call was eventually answered and I was put through to Acting Detective Inspector Coleman’s office. I told him where I was, cut the connection and waited. His appearance at the hospital to speak to Don didn’t make sense. There was something going on. Ten minutes later Coleman walked through the door. He spotted me, made his way over and sat down. He didn’t bother ordering a drink.
    ‘What’s going on?’ I said.
    ‘You’re the one who called.’
    ‘What’s going on?’ I repeated.
    He leaned forwards. ‘You’re the one who called me.’
    I smiled and nodded. He wasn’t going to give me anything easily. ‘You implied that Don has enemies.’
    ‘Only stating the obvious.’ He relaxed into his chair, even though he didn’t seem very comfortable with the situation. ‘He was a policeman for long time. We make enemies. Nature of the beast.’
    I’d given the possibility of someone holding a grudge against Don some thought and not made any progress. He’d been a well-respected detective for Humberside Police, but it had been a difficult job.. We’d also no doubt upset people when we’d operated as Private Investigators, but there was nothing obvious. Some of those cases had involved the police and the right people had gone to prison. The majority of work had been routine. There was no one we’d upset to the point they’d come looking for revenge. I needed a route into his police career. I asked him what Don had told him in the hospital.
    ‘Nothing,’ Coleman said.
    ‘So what can you tell me?’
    ‘I’m not at liberty to talk to you about ongoing police matters. You know that.’
    ‘Off the record?’
    ‘You know how it works, Joe.’
    Stalemate again. But we both knew he held all the