slopping a centimeter of liquid over the scratched surface. He had been home to change out of his uniform and had returned with a thick file labeled Hadler under his arm. âIâm not great for business. Everyone always has to make a big show of putting their car keys away.â
They glanced over at the barman. It was the same large, bearded bloke from the night before. He was watching them over the top of a newspaper.
âPolicemanâs lot. Cheers.â Falk raised his glass and took a long swallow. Heâd always been able to take or leave the booze, but at that moment he was glad of it. It was early evening quiet in the pub, and they were holed up alone in a corner. On the far side of the room three men stared with bovine blankness at greyhound racing on the TV. Falk didnât recognize them, and they ignored him in turn. In the back room, the slot machines blinked and whistled. The air-conditioning was blowing Arctic cold.
Raco took a sip. âSo what now?â
âNow you tell Clyde youâve got concerns,â Falk said.
If Iâm guilty, so are you.
âI go to the Clyde cops now, itâll send them straight into arse-covering mode.â Raco frowned. âYou know whatâll be going through their heads if they think theyâve stuffed this up. Theyâll make a gymnastics team, bending over backward to prove their investigation was sound. I know I would.â
âIâm not sure youâve got a choice. Something like this. Itâs not a one-man job.â
âWeâve got Barnes.â
âWho?â
âMy constable at the station. So thatâs three of us.â
âThatâs only two of you, mate,â Falk said. âI canât stay.â
âI thought you told the Hadlers you would.â
Falk rubbed the bridge of his nose. The slot machines behind him clanged more loudly. He felt like the noise was inside his head.
âFor a couple of days. That means one or two. Not for the duration of an investigation. An unofficial one at that. Iâve got a job to get back to.â
âFine.â Raco spoke like it was obvious. âStay for the couple of days, then. It doesnât have to be anything on the books. Do what you said youâd do on the money side. As soon as we get something solid, Iâll go to Clyde.â
Falk said nothing. He thought about the two boxes of bank statements and documents heâd taken from the Hadlersâ place that were now sitting upstairs on his bed.
Luke lied. You lied.
He picked up their empty glasses and took them back to the bar.
âSame again?â The barman hauled his bulk off a stool and put his newspaper down. He was the only person Falk had seen working in the place since yesterday.
âListen,â Falk said as he watched a clean glass put under the tap. âThat room Iâm in. Likely to be available a bit longer?â
âDepends.â The barman set one beer on the counter. âIâve been hearing one or two whispers about you, my friend.â
âHave you.â
âI have. And while I welcome the business, I donât welcome trouble, see? Tricky enough running this place as is.â
âThe trouble wonât come from me.â
âJust comes with you?â
âNot much I can do about that. You know Iâm police, though?â
âI did hear that, indeed. But out here in the sticks at midnight with a few boozed-up fellas looking for trouble, those badges mean less than they should, you get me?â
âFine. Well. Up to you.â He wasnât going to beg.
The barman put the second glass on the counter with a half smile.
âItâs all right, mate. You can untwist your knickers. Your moneyâs as good as the next manâs, and thatâs good enough for me.â
He gave Falk his change and picked up the newspaper. He appeared to be doing the cryptic crossword. âTake it as a friendly warning,
Tim Lahaye, Jerry B. Jenkins