The Hard Way by Duncan Brockwell (electronic book reader .txt) 📗

found a low wall to sit on away from everyone. Zuccari sat next to him with his beer in his hand. “What’s up?” He had to wait a minute for his colleague to start talking.

“I’ve fucked up, mate.” He took a gulp of beer. “I’m not talking a small fuck-up here, either. I’m talking a gigantic dump on your own doorstep, going to get my head caved in kind of fuck up. I’m in deep shit, and I don’t know what to do.”

Walker knew it! Being friends with Zuccari could end up being hazardous to his own health. There would come a time when he would have to walk away. “What’ve you done? Talk to me. I’ll see if I can help.”

Zuccari put his glass between his feet on the pavement and shook his head. “Not this time. You’ve got me out of a lot of scrapes, and I love you, I really do, but this one’s above even your head. I owe money, lots of money.”

“I figured. How much are we talking?”

“A hundred.”

Any normal person might think he meant a hundred, but Walker knew his friend and colleague meant a hundred thousand. “What?” It was staggering. “How? How did you manage that? How’s that even possible? Who staked you?”

With his head down, Zuccari paused for a moment. “Melodi Demirci.”

Walker almost spat out his beer at the mention of Demirci. “You what?”

“I’ve been fucking her up in her office for weeks now. After being suspended yesterday, I went and had a few drinks. I ended up at the casino and she staked me the full hundred. I thought I was on a winning streak, finally.”

“And you lost it all? A hundred thousand?” The amount was too much to comprehend. “Why? Why would she stake you so high? She knows what you do for a living, right? Or did you lie to her?” It dawned on him.

Zuccari hung his head. “I told her I’m an investment broker in the city.”

It was Walker’s turn to hang his head, but for a different reason. “Jesus Christ. You’ve gone and fucked yourself now, royally. You know who her cousins are, don’t you? You’ll be lucky if they only cut your hands off, you dumb bastard.”

“Hey! Don’t you think I know that? I know exactly who the Inans are. Having you point it out isn’t helping. I’m in so deep, I can’t see a way out. I’ve got a week to come up with the cash, or I’m a dead man.”

His friend was right: pointing it out wasn’t helping. “What do you want me to say? Does she still think you’re a broker?”

“That’s just it, she knew all along what I did, even before I fucked her for the first time. She played me like a right twat, and I walked straight into it.”

Walker thought for a second. “But that makes no sense. Why get you so far in debt you can never pay her back? What good does that do her? She’ll never see that hundred grand, not in a million years.”

“I don’t know. Whatever she’s planning, I don’t want any part of it.” Zuccari stood holding his beer. “I’m doing a runner. It’s the only thing for it. I want to keep my hands. I need them.”

Hearing the fear in Zuccari’s voice, Walker stood and put a comforting hand on his colleague’s shoulder. “Don’t do that! It’ll only make things worse. Sleep on it. I’ll see what I can come up with, okay? Just promise me you won’t do a bunk on me.”

With glazed eyes, Zuccari nodded. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I do these things. I’m such a fuck-up.”

Walker pulled him in for a man-hug, catching glances from passers-by. “It’s all right. We’ll get you out of this, I promise.”

He managed to convince Zuccari into staying put but how would he be able to get his friend out of this? Walker wasn’t stupid with money, not by a long shot; he had a few thousand saved up, but he didn’t want to waste it on Zuccari. He’d done it now. “Come on, let’s get you inside. I think you could use another beer.”

27

“Why are we even bothering with this? We know he won’t be here.” Miller pulled into a space in the residents’ car park outside Fernando Linares’ block of flats.

“Because it’s worth a go,” Hayes replied. “It’s good to know where a potential suspect comes from, don’t you think?”

Unclipping her seat belt, Miller checked out the block of flats through her window. “Maybe, but I thought Kurt Austin was getting paid. Look at this shithole.” And she was being nice about it. The walls were covered in graffiti. Any paintwork was cracking.

Stepping out of their Peugeot, she closed her door and locked it, suspecting someone might try to nick the car if they left it for long. “A quick in and out, right? They’ll have the wheels off this in no time.”

“You can stay here with the car if you want? I don’t mind checking it out by myself.” Her partner smirked.

“And let you get all the action, forget it.” She hated that Hayes knew her so well. At no point would she let her supervisor take the credit for apprehending a suspect. Having brothers forced a competitive streak in her. Miller would never change. “Let’s get this over with. I might suggest wearing a peg on your nose, though.”

Walking next to Hayes, she reached the main door first, wanting to use her sleeve to hold the handle. After wiping her hand on her trousers, she joined her partner at the lift and waited. The foyer smelt of piss, as she imagined it would. “Told you.”

“Hit the third floor, would you?”

Miller obeyed, hitting the button three times before the metal doors slid across. “You know, we could be interviewing Demirci by now.” She was a bit annoyed at wasting their time here, when their prime suspect was out there, waiting to be pulled in for questioning. “You don’t think