Blindside - By Gj Moffat Page 0,22
tell. And, well, she was just a wee thing, you know. I felt for her.’
‘You’ve been on the job how long?’
‘Does it never get to you?’
Irvine had felt the same resentment of detectives herself when she had been on patrol. She looked back down at the file, finding an address for the girl south of the river in Bridgeton.
‘Who does she live with?’ Irvine asked.
‘Another girl. An older one. Real hard case name of Suzie Murray.’
‘Someone put her up in the flat to keep an eye on her while they got her started?’
‘That’s the way it works.’
‘Do you know who?’
‘No. Sorry.’
Irvine slid the file to Armstrong who picked it up and sat it on his lap to look through it.
‘Any family here that we need to know about?’
‘No. Far as we know she came over here on her own.’
‘Seems awful young.’
He shrugged.
Irvine tapped a finger on the desk and bit at her lower lip.
‘I saw her later,’ the shorter man said.
The tall one twisted in his seat to look at his partner. The short one stared at him.
‘When?’ Irvine asked.
‘Couple of weeks after she got sentenced. Her community service was helping clean graffiti, you know. I saw her and said hello. Asked how she was doing.’
‘Was she high?’
‘No. But she didn’t look too healthy.’
Irvine glanced at the photograph of the girl in the file that Armstrong was holding. She was an attractive girl.
Armstrong closed the file.
‘Anything else that might help us?’
The two men looked at each other and shook their heads.
After they were gone, Irvine asked Armstrong what he thought of the girl – and the reaction of the two uniformed officers. Armstrong flicked the file open nonchalantly and looked at the girl’s picture.
‘She looks young in this picture. Vulnerable. I can see why men would react to her.’
‘What, you’re not a man?’
‘I try to keep the job separate.’
‘Good luck with that.’
The corner of Armstrong’s mouth twitched.
‘You heard of her room-mate, this Suzie Murray?’
‘Can’t say that it rings any bells. But I know the type.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘She’ll not be well disposed towards us.’
7
Cahill was late getting into the office. He walked past Logan’s room and raised a hand in greeting before going into his own room and closing the door. He took his jacket off and draped it over his seat, stood looking out of the window thinking that he should have stayed at home today.
Cahill glanced at a photograph on the shelf by his desk – him and Tom Hardy in uniform in the desert with their arms around one another.
He heard the door open and turned to see Logan come in wearing a pair of faded jeans and a navy blue shirt, open at the neck. Lately Logan had decided that he didn’t want to wear the CPO combats and polo shirt. It felt too much like a uniform. Cahill still wore his.
‘What’s up?’ Logan asked, seeing the fatigue in his friend’s face.
‘This thing in Denver …’
Logan sat on the couch.
‘Is it that soldier thing?’ Logan asked. ‘You and Tim Stark.’
‘We didn’t serve together.’
‘No, but you know what I mean. Army, Secret Service. Same thing, right?’
Cahill looked at the photograph again.
‘I know you, Alex. You’re pissed off at the attitude of the Feds and everyone else. You don’t like it when they give you the silent treatment. Just stirs you up even more.’
Logan smiled, knew that he was right about it.
‘You’re saying I’m a stubborn bastard who likes to pick a fight?’
‘I am.’
‘Tim’s got a family. You know what that’s like – making sure that they don’t come to any harm?’
Logan nodded. Knew all too well.
‘You think they’re in danger?’
‘Christ knows,’ Cahill said, standing. ‘But I’d hate to find out that anything had happened and I could have done something about it.’
‘You thinking of going over there?’
‘Yes.’
‘For how long? I mean, we’ve got contracts lined up here for the next six months.’
‘Tom can handle it. All the clients know him.’
‘This is for free?’
‘Of course. It’s for a friend.’
‘Well, if you feel that you need to do it, you should go.’
Cahill nodded, staring at Logan.
‘What?’ Logan asked.
‘Come with me.’
‘What do you need me for?’
‘Look, I know what I’m like. I fuck with people just to get a reaction. I only know one way of doing things and that’s to move forward. Pushing all the way.’
‘So?’
‘So, you’re different. You know the … softer stuff. How to talk. Negotiate. This isn’t the kind of operation I usually handle so I might be a little bit out of my depth.’
‘And I