The Mephisto Threat. E.V. Seymour
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Название: The Mephisto Threat
Автор: E.V. Seymour
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Полицейские детективы
isbn: 9781408912546
isbn:
‘But I don—’
Tallis stood up. ‘You think about it,’ he said decisively. ‘I’ll get in the next round of drinks.’
Think, think, think! If he were in Oxslade’s shoes, he’d have walked by now. Somehow he had to say something that would connect and bring Oxslade on side. Prove that his desire to know who the main players were was justified.
From the look on Oxslade’s face when Tallis sat back down, he had a mountain to climb. He really didn’t like what he was about to do. It was gross exploitation, but he needed Oxslade’s help. ‘I have a client who’s worried sick about her son. Usual story. Rebellious youth. Broken family. Dad pissed off. Son fell in with a bad lot and got himself involved in drugs and gun running. Lately, he’s started kicking around with bigger fish.’ Tallis took a sip of beer, watched Oxslade’s face; saw how his pitch was going down. A lot of the shine had gone out of Oxslade’s bright and bushy expression. ‘His mum’s all messed up,’ Tallis continued. ‘Reckons that, with the right encouragement, right motivation, her lad could make something of his life.’ Bit like you, Tallis thought. ‘I’ve got some names.’ Tallis reeled them off from memory. They were probably two years out of date but these individuals would probably still be on the scene—if they were still alive. Oxslade’s pale features fell into a frown. The freckles on his face seemed to blur together to form one single skin tone. Tallis thought he’d blown it. ‘Only small fry, I know,’ he added.
‘Your information’s out of date. Wayne Jennings is in Featherstone,’ Oxslade said, cool eyes meeting Tallis’s. ‘Alrick Hughes was found dead after a drugs overdose last summer. I suspect Stu was your source regarding myself.’
Shit, Tallis thought. ‘Don’t blame Stu. It was a chance remark.’
‘Which you took and ran with,’ Oxslade said, cold. ‘The other bloke you mentioned skipped the country, used to work for Johnny Kennedy, lately resident of Her Majesty’s Prison Birmingham.’
The name was hauntingly familiar to Tallis. Maybe he was simply getting it confused with a long-deceased American President. ‘Is Kennedy still in the game?’
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