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‘If a guy’s so committed he’ll hide in a strong room while a bunch of hairy-arsed cops are just the thickness of a bookcase away, then yeah, I think he has a problem.’
‘I won’t tell him that.’
‘No. Best not,’ Poe said. ‘And what about Fiona Musgrave, the woman who broke the story about Beck? Is she safe?’
‘She’s been taken into protective custody, although we don’t think she’s at risk.’
‘Why not?’
‘She’s not an arsehole.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘Call me later?’
‘Will do,’ Poe said. ‘But before you go, do you want to tell me what happened to my slow-roasted goat? Mathers told me you had it removed. Said it was a dead dog.’
‘It was attracting rats, Poe.’
Tai-young Lee had stepped outside. She beckoned him over. She looked worried.
‘I’ve got to go, boss,’ he said. Poe ended the call. ‘What’s up, ma’am?’
‘We have a problem,’ Lee replied.
