Blindside - By Gj Moffat Page 0,80

don’t know. Maybe nothing.’

‘Spit it out.’

‘It’s Becky. I mean, she’s been pulled into some drug squad operation back home.’

‘I’m not following.’

‘I don’t know if I am either.’

Cahill frowned.

‘Listen,’ Logan said. ‘Becky told me about this the other day and it was in my head when Hunter was going over his investigation earlier. But it didn’t mean anything at the time. But then Becky said tonight that she got information about soldiers being involved in her thing.’

‘So?’

‘I’m not making myself clear. She got pulled into the drug squad case like Hunter did. Unexplained overdose deaths in suspicious circumstances.’

Cahill rubbed at his eyes.

‘What was the soldier’s name?’ Logan asked. ‘The British one.’

Cahill closed his eyes, thinking.

‘Johnson,’ he said. ‘Andy Johnson.’

‘He’s one of them. I mean, in Becky’s case. Or at least he was.’

‘Was?’

‘He’s dead. Murdered.’

The door to reception opened again and Webb came in with Grange. They came over to where Cahill was sitting.

‘We’re going to speak to Horn alone,’ Grange said.

Cahill looked at Webb who nodded.

Cahill was half inclined to have a fight with Grange and Webb because, well, just because he enjoyed it and it would wind Grange up. But he was sick at the thought of what appeared to be happening. He couldn’t quite comprehend how soldiers, people like him, could start up some sort of drug operation that spanned the Atlantic.

But if there was one thing he had learned over the last few years it was that human beings are capable of anything in extreme circumstances.

‘We need to speak to Becky about this now,’ Logan said after the others had left.

2

Randall Webb and Cooper Grange sat patiently at the table in the conference room while Ruiz helped Matt Horn into a seat. When Horn was settled, Webb nodded at Ruiz who went out of the room but left the door open. Hunter and Collins came into the room, closed the door and sat at one end of the table. Horn looked at them until Webb spoke, introducing everyone at the table.

Horn said nothing.

‘What can we do for you, Mr Horn?’ Webb asked.

Horn shifted in his seat and grimaced. He looked at Hunter and Collins.

‘Shouldn’t you, like, read me my rights or something?’

‘Why would we do that?’ Grange said.

‘I don’t know. Isn’t that how it’s done?’

‘Why don’t you tell us your story and we’ll see where we go from there,’ Webb told him.

Horn shifted again. Everyone waited for him.

‘I killed those men. The drug addicts. It was me.’

Some opening gambit.

Webb leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table.

‘Why don’t you start at the beginning, Mr Horn. I find that usually helps.’

‘How far back do you want me to go?’

‘That depends. When did it start?’

‘In Afghanistan.’

His voice wavered, phlegm at the back of his throat.

‘I lost my legs there.’ He looked down and rubbed his thighs.

‘You were ambushed?’

He narrowed his eyes and looked at Webb. ‘You know about that?’

‘Yes. Is that where it started?’

‘I suppose it is. If we hadn’t been caught up in that …’

‘Tell us about it,’ Webb said.

‘It was Seth and Andy. Until Andy got killed. But mainly Seth. He lost it after I got sick.’

‘Andy?’ Grange asked.

‘Andy Johnson.’

Grange flipped through the file in front of him on the table.

‘The Scottish RMP corporal?’

‘Yes. He wasn’t the same after he got shot. Losing part of your skull will do that.’

‘I’m not following,’ Webb said. ‘Johnson is dead now?’

Horn nodded.

‘Take it back a step and tell us what’s going on,’ Webb said.

‘I needed money for treatment and Seth didn’t have it. Andy had been back in Afghanistan working private security after the army discharged him. He made some contacts over there – through another soldier, guy called Jack Butler. Drug contacts. Heroin. Saw a way to make some money. Seth told him no the first time he mentioned it. But he got so desperate, so angry at everyone and everything, that he would have done anything.’

‘For you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

Horn cleared his throat.

‘He had a son. He died when he was real young and Seth split from his wife after it. I don’t think he ever recovered from it. He saw me as a replacement.’

‘He told you that.’

‘Not in so many words.’

‘Which is why you getting sick …’

‘I nearly died. Technically I was dead for a minute or so before they revived me.’

Webb sat back again, looked over at Hunter.

‘You have any questions, Detective?’

Horn looked at Hunter.

‘You said that you killed them,’ Hunter said. ‘What did you mean by that?’

‘I’m a chemist. I came up with the idea of mixing the