The Filthy Few: A Steve Nastos Mystery by Richard Cain Page B

door most of the way open and turned on the closet light. “So you think she might be trying to get you back into her life? She’s playing the damsel in distress? She could have just gone to the cops.”
    Nastos carefully examined the pop can. “The thought has crossed my mind.”
    â€œHello. Here, check this out.”
    Nastos turned to the closet that Carscadden had slid open. Inside was a recycle box filled with empty liquor bottles.
    Nastos whistled. “We have to get something from there. Glass is perfect.”
    After three bottles of vodka, Nastos had made four respectable lifts. Nastos sprinkled on the dust, pressed the clear tape over it, smoothed it out then transferred them to the white print cards. He labeled them, put them in the tool box then packed everything up.
    Carscadden pointed to the remaining bottles in the box. “Are these of any use? We can take them with us just in case.”
    Nastos shook his head. “Let’s get out of here before we catch a disease.”
    They locked the room and returned to the office to take the key back. Sandhu was standing at the counter puffing on a cigar-sized joint and watching a foreign film on a small, fuzzy TV screen.
    Carscadden dropped the keys on the counter. “Here, thanks.”
    Sandhu was enthralled by his show and didn’t respond.
    Nastos watched some of the TV program. An older guy with a white turban was surrounded by two younger guys with their swords out. They were circling the older man, obviously taunting him.
    Carscadden asked, “Nastos, you think the guys following Walker would watch this place to see if anyone else came looking for answers?”
    Nastos shook his head. “Too labour intensive. It would be easier to hire someone here, maybe one of the Sri Lankans from upstairs. If someone comes around they make a phone call for some easy money.”
    Nastos thought of something. He spoke louder. “Hey, Sandhu, hey pal, wake up.”
    Sandhu paused the show and took a drag on his joint. “What?”
    â€œAre you going to call anyone and tell them that we were here looking around?”
    â€œNo.” He manufactured a stupid smile.
    With all of the THC in Sandhu’s head, Nastos couldn’t tell if he was being honest or sarcastic. “Hey, this is important. We’ve been good to you, we have more money, but if you screw us over you’re gonna piss me off.”
    â€œNo, I won’t tell anyone you were here.”
    Carscadden slid more cash over the table. Sandhu wasn’t as smooth when he picked it up this time. He giggled to himself and he stuffed the money in his chest pocket.
    Nastos waited for Carscadden to sit in the passenger side before he started the car, taking a last moment to look up to the Sri Lankans leering down from the balcony.
    Carscadden asked, “We gonna drop off the print cards now? We might beat the traffic.”
    â€œSure, I think it’s fastest to take the Gardiner to South Kingsway to Finch and straight up to the Forensics Unit. I’ll quickly drop them off and my guy will have the results by tomorrow.”
    Nastos’ phone vibrated and he read the screen. “It’s from Jacques. He has it.” The message said
Pictures attached. You didn’t get this from me.
He scrolled down and saw that there were two pictures and a small document attached. He quickly forwarded it to Karen with a message added.
Karen, show this to Ann. Let me know
ASAP
if these were the guys who shot Walker.
    Carscadden pointed out a Thai restaurant across the street. “We should get some Thai this week.”
    â€œI barely get takeout now that it’s just me and Jo.”
    Carscadden didn’t reply. At first Nastos thought it was unlike him, rude even, for a guy who had a stupid comment about everything. Then he began to wonder if the comment was too close to Maddy being gone for him to touch.
    Carscadden took out his cellphone and checked