Free Bloodstorm by Sam Millar Page B

you okay, Mister Munday?”
    “What …? Oh … yes. Yes, of course,” said Munday, his composure regained.
    Munday took a good mouthful of coffee, before producing what Karl had been waiting for: an envelope.
The
envelope. “You’ll find the other five hundred in there, as agreed. Count it, if you wish.”
    “I trust you,” said Karl, trying desperately to feel the contents through the envelope’s window before popping it in the drawer.
It feels like it’s all there.
He hoped so.
    “Good. That’s how all transactions should be. Firmly embedded in trust. Now, there is one more thing I need you to do. I will make itworthwhile for you, of course.” Munday produced an identical envelope from an inside pocket. However, in comparison to the other one, this envelope looked obese. “There’s a grand in there.”
    Karl’s face reddened slightly. His sinuses suddenly cleared. He hoped his face hadn’t betrayed his racing heart.
    “I don’t imagine you’re simply going to ask me to get Milligan’s shoe size?” quipped Karl, his fingers barely restrained from grabbing the envelope. He sipped another mouthful of coffee, his eyes peeping over the cup, and unintentionally spied Naomi eavesdropping at the door. He gave her a withering look.
    “That first thousand was just a tester, Mister Kane, to see how you operate,” said Munday. “In all probability, I could have found out all the information you have already conveyed to me, just by waiting on a journalist to eventually cover the story in full.”
    “But you don’t have the luxury of time. Do you?”
    A tight smile appeared on Munday’s face. “I’m beginning to like you, Mister Kane. Up to your neck in debt, and yet you have the brass balls to carry a charade of indifference.”
    “What makes you think I’m in debt?” Karl’s arse suddenly felt itchy, but he fought the temptation to scratch it in the presence of Munday.
    “Like you, I have my sources.” Munday stared into Karl’s eyes. “You’re a very suspicious person, Mister Kane. I like that in a man.”
    “Everyone keeps telling me that – the suspicious bit. Good job I’m not too paranoid or over-sensitive.”
    “On the contrary, I think being suspicious is a healthy trait. It keeps the brain ticking, alert for any unforeseen hazards.”
    “I’ll try and remember that the next time I feel a heart attack coming on. Now, how can I be of help?”
    Munday’s voice lowered to a whisper. “A man was found dead two days ago, at his home. Coincidentally, not too far from here in the city centre. According to my source, the police believe a prostitute was involved.”
    “And?”
    “I’m sure you could find out the name of most, if not all prostitutes in the area.”
    Karl laughed. “Better not let Naomi hear you say that. She might get the wrong impression.”
    “Prostitution isn’t endemic in Belfast – yet. There can’t be that many prostitutes operating in the city centre. I would appreciate a list of known ones.”
    The itching in Karl’s arse had suddenly become more aggressive. Karl did a slight wiggle, thinking of the cold haemorrhoid cream, the relief it would bring.
    “You’re not some Charles Branson character, are you, thinking of carrying out some sort of Death Wish revenge?” asked Karl.
    Munday almost smiled. “Nothing illegal, Mister Kane. I can assure you of that. The man murdered was a good friend of mine. Money can make the wheels of justice move a lot quicker, I find, so long as you are armed with the facts. And that’s what I need from you. The facts.”
    “Why don’t you just get one of your police mates – I mean sources – to get you the info? It would be a hell of a lot cheaper.”
    Munday’s facial muscles moved slightly. An attempt at another smile? “I’m a great believer in the private sector.”
    Karl returned the attempted smile. “Good answer. What was the gentle man’s name?”
    “His name is –
was
– Joseph Kerr.”
    “And Milligan?