Free Killing With Confidence by Matt Bendoris

in the morning – I have to put up with
her insanity all day.’
    This waitress smiled
then blushed. Connor was more attractive and better mannered than
her usual clientele.
    He easily read her
body language, feeling a small stirring in his loins, and thought
to himself, ‘It’s been a while.’
    Someone else picked
up on the vibes, too. ‘Keep it in your pants, you dirty boy,’ April
said as they made their way to the office.
    Connor made a mental
note to himself. April was definitely a lot more perceptive than
she let on.
     
    
     
    Badger was
Connor’s first call of the day. His old mentor repeatedly had to
cover his mouthpiece as he exploded into hacking coughing
fits.
    ‘You need to get that
checked out,’ Connor said tentatively, already anticipating the
abusive answer.
    ‘What are you? My
doctor or my wife?’ Badger growled, ‘And anyway I have checked it
out. I’m getting the test results at the end of the week. But
enough of that bollocks. Your man Crosbie is a runner, mad for it
apparently. Never could understand that myself – pound, pound,
pound, bore, bore, bore. He’s running the Glasgow half-marathon
from George Square on Sunday. He’s in the blue group, whatever that
is. Something to do with the expected finishing time.’ Connor could
hear the flicking of pages while Badger checked his notepad.
‘Crosbie runs it in about one hour thirty-five,’ he added. ‘Better
get those shorts on, Elvis, and you’ll need to swap the blue suede
shoes for proper trainers.’
    ‘Oh crap, I haven’t
run in years. How long is a half-marathon again?’ The anxiety in
Connor’s voice was clearly audible.
    Badger laughed loudly
before succumbing to another coughing fit. He eventually managed to
croak, ‘Thirteen miles. But it’s your only chance to meet him. He
does bugger all else except work and run. Oh, and someone wants to
meet you today. Very important. Be at the Portman bar at noon.’
    ‘You know it’s hard
to get any time out of the sausage factory these days. Who is
it?’
    Badger gave a
one-word reply: ‘Harris.’
     
    
     
    ‘Colin
Harris – now what the hell did he want?’ Connor thought to
himself.
    Back in the broom
cupboard he told April about his rendezvous with one of Glasgow’s
most lethal gangland enforcers turned author and alleged legitimate
businessman. Now it was Connor’s turn to speak his thoughts out
loud. ‘Legitimate, my arse.’ He turned accusingly to April. ‘Your
insanity is rubbing off.’
    The Weasel
interrupted their conversation with his usual absence of
pleasantries. ‘The editor wants to see you both in his office
now.’
     
    
     
    Bent was
sitting in his usual well-rehearsed pose behind his large mahogany
desk, chin resting on his index fingers as if deep in thought. He
didn’t even make eye contact when April and Connor were shown in by
his PA, launching into a question instead: ‘Any news?’
    Both reporters
detected the hint of anxiety in the editor’s voice, and both
decided to toy with him.
    ‘Well, I’m trying for
an address for Jackie McIvor’s mum,’ April said.
    Bent snapped ‘No, not
with the scumbag prostitute. Are the police getting anywhere with
the Seth killer? What’s this Crosbie character got to say off the
record?’
    ‘I don’t know,’
apologised Connor, knowing full well those were three words all
editors hated, ‘but I’m hoping to meet him this weekend.’
    Bent was silent.
    April’s curiosity got
the better of her. ‘You seem very concerned about this case –
did you know Selina well?’
    A look of outrage
swept across Bent’s face, and April butted in before he could
speak, ‘I think everyone’s been shocked by her death. They will
find her killer.’
    Bent slumped back in
his chair, and eventually mumbled, ‘You’re right, we are all
shocked. I had lunch with her the day before she was murdered. I
just want the bastard caught.’
    ‘So you don’t think
it was