Impurity (DI Gardener 1)

“Defending ourselves,” replied Gardener, taking a sip of water and wincing.

“Defending your-bloody-selves? Against who? The Fantastic Four? A couple of blokes playing pool, and you go in like you’re auditioning for ‘Lethal Weapon 6’ and trash the place!”

“It didn’t happen like that!” shouted Reilly.

Briggs glared at Reilly with an expression that would have killed a crow in mid-flight.

“Well, you would say that, wouldn’t you? You were responsible. You’re a walking one-man war zone, Reilly. You ought to carry a government health warning. According to the landlord, who by the way is putting in a claim, you walked in, ordered a drink, and then went over to the pool table.

He’s no idea what happened next, but whatever it was, it sparked off a riot.”

“Sean’s right, it didn’t happen like that.”

“I’m surprised at you, Stewart. I can understand it from the Urban Guerrilla, but not you. You’ve obviously been under a lot of pressure lately. Maybe you came back to work too soon.”

“You’re out of order there, sir,” said Gardener, infuriated by the suggestion.

“All I did was ask about Herbert Plum,” said Reilly. “The landlord didn’t answer, and when I came out of the toilets, the pool players were waiting for me. We didn’t get a chance to explain who we were before they were on us.”

“That’s exactly what happened, sir. We were only doing our job.” Gardener stood up and walked around Briggs’ desk, depositing his cup in the bin. An elongated silence descended upon the room. Briggs sighed. “I just wish you’d tried restraining yourselves a little more.”

After another silence, Gardener asked, “What are you going to do?”

“About you two? Nothing. But there will be an inquiry. Questions will be asked, but we can cross that bridge when we come to it. On the subject of Plum, have you made any headway?”

Gardener sat down again, dejected. “We didn’t get a chance.”

“Well, I did,” said Briggs.

That piqued Gardener’s curiosity. “How?”

“Craig Sutton.” Briggs glanced at Reilly. “That was the bloke you knocked unconscious.”

“He talked?”

“Sutton’s well known. He’s been busted a couple of times for possession. He also has a record for handling stolen goods. Nothing heavy, he hasn’t got the guts. Looks like you did us a favour, Reilly. He was wanted for questioning in connection with the stolen paint from that warehouse near The White Rose Centre last week. He was seen driving the getaway van.

“So, we traded a bit of information. Turns out that Sutton was also involved in another incident in The Black Bull last week, with Plum. Our friend Plum had a bit of a drink problem. After a bloody good session, he loosened his tongue, offered Sutton’s woman a part in a film. Said he had the right contacts, all she had to do was give him the nod.”

“What kind of film?” inquired Gardener.

“‘Artistic’ was how Plum put it, Christ knows why. Have you seen Sutton’s girlfriend? I know looks are only skin deep, but she must have been born inside out. Anyway, she was offended. She told Sutton, who threatened Plum.”

“No wonder he wasn’t too happy to see us,” said Reilly.

“Still doesn’t tell us much,” said Gardener.

“No, but you might like to know Plum was in there regularly, with a colleague. Craig Sutton doesn’t know anything other than his name. Bernard Thornwell. Sutton had the impression they worked together. Unless…”

“Unless what?” asked Gardener.

“…unless they were partners,” finished Briggs.

Gardener didn’t buy it. “Not Plum’s style. He was definitely into females.”

“Well, whatever it was,” said Briggs, “I want you to concentrate on finding Thornwell. He might be the key to the investigation.”

Chapter Twenty-three