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“Of course I know him, and you know that. You already know that he was behind the incident in the showers.”
“And that was because?”
“We didn’t see eye-to-eye.”
“I doubt you’d see eye-to-eye with anybody,” said Reilly. “You’ve only got one good one.”
Pollard ignored the jibe, but his expression could have halted a tsunami.
“Is that because you both wanted the same territory?”
“I’m not a drug dealer,” said Pollard.
“The records show different, Mr Pollard. You’ve been inside for stealing drugs, a net value of over £5,000 to my knowledge. None of which was ever recovered.”
“Once a dealer, always a dealer,” Reilly continued. “Come on, Jackie lad. What’s the crack with Hobson, if you’ll pardon the pun? Who supplies who?”
Pollard leaned forward and started tapping the table again. Gardener also noticed one of his legs was shaking. A clear sign he was agitated.
“I do not work for Hobson, or with him.”
“Is there a money problem, then?” asked Gardener. “The connection between you two – does one of you owe the other money?”
“What the hell is this? Why are you asking
questions about Lance Hobson?”
Gardener switched topics again. He knew he had Pollard irritated, and felt he needed to keep the pressure on.
“Know anyone named Sonia?”
“Pardon?”
Gardener made a point of rifling through the file before asking again.
“Sonia. Do you know anyone named Sonia?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Strange,” said Gardener, lifting Pollard’s phone from the floor, placing it on the table. “Judging by your phone records, I’d say you know her very well. Sonia Knight.”
Pollard remained quiet.
“Come on, Jackie lad, you’re being less than honest with us. If you don’t tell us the truth, it’ll take much longer to sort this mess out. And do you know what I’m thinking?” Reilly deliberately left the question unanswered, waiting for Pollard.
“Do tell me,” he finally replied.
“That if you’re not telling me the truth over Sonia Knight, you probably haven’t told us the truth about anything else we’ve asked you.”
Gardener leaned forward. “And you know what that means, don’t you? We’ll have to keep going round in circles until we’re completely satisfied. And you might never get out of here.”
“Don’t want that, do you, Jackie lad?” said Reilly, grinning.
Pollard pointed half an index finger at Reilly.
“Stop taking the piss, Irishman.”
“That would look more dangerous if it was a whole finger.”
