worried he’s done her in and dumped her somewhere.’ She bit her lip. ‘So I have no way of getting to that bastard. Whatever he’s done, right now he’s getting off scot-free. Wendy had a lot of problems in the past. She’s a bit daft. But her heart’s in the right place. I’m going to make Eddie pay for what he did. That’s all I can do. I can’t go to the cops. I can’t get anything done myself. So I’ve come to you and spilled my guts on it.’ Her face flushed. ‘To be honest, I’m a bit disappointed that you’re thinking I might just start blabbing.’
Rosie could see where this was going. She had to rescue the situation and quick, before Liz got up and left. She’d been here before, with people who had come to her and trusted her with information. And they’d paid with their lives. Mags Gillick, the junkie prostitute, and Emir, therefugee with nowhere else to turn. Part of her wanted to walk away now, but she couldn’t let it go.
‘No. Liz. Listen. Please understand this. I absolutely believe you and I know why you are doing this. I’m honestly grateful.’ She saw Liz’s lip quivering and reached across the table and squeezed her wrist. ‘I want to take a real run at this story. And I need you to help me. But you need to know what you’re getting into. Are you prepared to do that? Are you prepared to get involved in it with us? Because I’m thinking of tracking this all the way to Europe and exposing the whole shooting match.’
Liz’s eyes narrowed. ‘Of course I’m in. And you don’t have to worry about me. You don’t know me. But once I’ve made my mind up to do something, nothing will stop me.’
They sat for a moment in silence, then Rosie smiled.
‘Good. Then I’ll talk to my editor, and we’ll see where we go from here.’
They got up to leave, and Rosie went across to the counter and paid the bill, then followed Liz out of the door.
‘Oh. Take this other mobile number, Rosie. I bought it so I can talk to you if I hear any information.’ She gave Rosie a cocky look. ‘I was thinking ahead. Trust me. I’m not daft.’
CHAPTER FIVE
‘What you going to do with your cash?’ Mitch asked Jimmy as they moved away from the bar with their pints and sat in a corner.
‘Dunno,’ Jimmy shrugged. He took a long drink of lager and licked his lips. ‘Hold onto it for a bit, I suppose. Maybe go somewhere on holiday, after the Champions League matches.’
‘You going on the bus?’ Mitch looked at him. ‘Eindhoven first next week, then Seville. I can’t wait.’ He grinned. ‘Especially Holland, man. Them Dutch birds are filthy.’
Jimmy chuckled. ‘Aye, Mitch. And they’ll have been gagging for it all those years you were in the nick.’ He handed Mitch a cigarette and took one himself.
‘It’ll be brilliant. It’s party time all the way when you go with the boys to Europe on the bus. Totally mental.’
‘I flew the last couple of times, but the bus could be a good laugh. I’ll talk to the lads and see what the sketch is.’
‘Good,’ Mitch said. ‘We could go from the Victoria Bar.’ He took his mobile out. ‘I’ll phone Billy Whyte and ask him who’s running the show from there.’
Jimmy sat staring into middle distance as Mitch talked on the phone. They’d just come from making the drop to the lorry driver who was going on the late-night ferry from Stranraer to Belfast. Jimmy didn’t know the guy’s name and had never met him before. He and Mitch were simply told by Eddie where he would be and what they had to do. He told them that truck drivers were used nearly all the time by the UVF to take drugs, cash and weapons to and from Belfast, as they seldom got stopped.
The heroin from the contract on the two boys lying at the bottom of the quarry had to be delivered to Belfast where the UVF would make sure it disappeared into the growing smack market up and down the housing schemes. Jimmy had learned fast that drugs went beyond any sectarian divide.
Rosie could see where this was going. She had to rescue the situation and quick, before Liz got up and left. She’d been here before, with people who had come to her and trusted her with information. And they’d paid with their lives. Mags Gillick, the junkie prostitute, and Emir, therefugee with nowhere else to turn. Part of her wanted to walk away now, but she couldn’t let it go.
‘No. Liz. Listen. Please understand this. I absolutely believe you and I know why you are doing this. I’m honestly grateful.’ She saw Liz’s lip quivering and reached across the table and squeezed her wrist. ‘I want to take a real run at this story. And I need you to help me. But you need to know what you’re getting into. Are you prepared to do that? Are you prepared to get involved in it with us? Because I’m thinking of tracking this all the way to Europe and exposing the whole shooting match.’
Liz’s eyes narrowed. ‘Of course I’m in. And you don’t have to worry about me. You don’t know me. But once I’ve made my mind up to do something, nothing will stop me.’
They sat for a moment in silence, then Rosie smiled.
‘Good. Then I’ll talk to my editor, and we’ll see where we go from here.’
They got up to leave, and Rosie went across to the counter and paid the bill, then followed Liz out of the door.
‘Oh. Take this other mobile number, Rosie. I bought it so I can talk to you if I hear any information.’ She gave Rosie a cocky look. ‘I was thinking ahead. Trust me. I’m not daft.’
CHAPTER FIVE
‘What you going to do with your cash?’ Mitch asked Jimmy as they moved away from the bar with their pints and sat in a corner.
‘Dunno,’ Jimmy shrugged. He took a long drink of lager and licked his lips. ‘Hold onto it for a bit, I suppose. Maybe go somewhere on holiday, after the Champions League matches.’
‘You going on the bus?’ Mitch looked at him. ‘Eindhoven first next week, then Seville. I can’t wait.’ He grinned. ‘Especially Holland, man. Them Dutch birds are filthy.’
Jimmy chuckled. ‘Aye, Mitch. And they’ll have been gagging for it all those years you were in the nick.’ He handed Mitch a cigarette and took one himself.
‘It’ll be brilliant. It’s party time all the way when you go with the boys to Europe on the bus. Totally mental.’
‘I flew the last couple of times, but the bus could be a good laugh. I’ll talk to the lads and see what the sketch is.’
‘Good,’ Mitch said. ‘We could go from the Victoria Bar.’ He took his mobile out. ‘I’ll phone Billy Whyte and ask him who’s running the show from there.’
Jimmy sat staring into middle distance as Mitch talked on the phone. They’d just come from making the drop to the lorry driver who was going on the late-night ferry from Stranraer to Belfast. Jimmy didn’t know the guy’s name and had never met him before. He and Mitch were simply told by Eddie where he would be and what they had to do. He told them that truck drivers were used nearly all the time by the UVF to take drugs, cash and weapons to and from Belfast, as they seldom got stopped.
The heroin from the contract on the two boys lying at the bottom of the quarry had to be delivered to Belfast where the UVF would make sure it disappeared into the growing smack market up and down the housing schemes. Jimmy had learned fast that drugs went beyond any sectarian divide.
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