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“Whisky.” He drums his fingers on the table, looking around. “Please.”
He has thin blond hair brushed over a balding head. Blue, beady eyes are set in a round, puffy face. His cheeks are marred with red veins, a sign of a heavy drinker.
The owner puts a tumbler of whisky and a glass of water in front of him.
He downs the whisky and then sips the water.
“A little bird told me you can get access to information I may find helpful,” I say.
“Yeah.” He glances at Uncle Enzo. “About the lieutenant.”
“Yes.” I take in the nervous bouncing of his leg. “Of what he said to my wife when he arrested her.”
“The tape was wiped out,” he says, confirming what my informant already told me.
“Was anyone with him in the room?” I ask.
“Nope.” The guy sniffs and eyes his empty whisky glass. “He was alone in there. Impossible to know what transpired.”
I lean closer. “Why would he wipe out the tape?” I tense to breaking point at the next question. “What did he do to her?”
“Nothing indecent. That’s not his style. He probably would’ve cut her a deal.”
Violence boils up inside me. I remind myself it’s the lieutenant’s fault for dangling a carrot in front of my wife’s nose. Sabella isn’t to blame that he tempted her with the one thing she wants most. Her freedom. I’ll hold him accountable for leading her astray. That way, I only have to feed one body to the sharks.
“How close are the two of you?” I ask the guy.
“The lieutenant and me? Not that much. But I can get close if that’s what you want.”
“How close?”
“Close enough. He’s not a big drinker, not a pub kind of guy if you know what I mean, but I can get myself invited to his house. Barbecues. Family lunches. Cricket in the park. That sort of thing.”
I sit back, rubbing my thumb over my chin. “You’ll manage?”
“He’s a buddy kind of guy. Likes to watch rugby matches with his friends. Play cards. It’s not hard to get into that kind of circle.”
“All right,” I say slowly. “Name your price.”
Smiling, he takes a piece of paper from his pocket and slides it over the table. I lean over to read the figure.
A single nod seals the deal.
He grins wider. Stands. “Thank you.” He adjusts his jacket. “I’ll need twenty percent upfront. For expenses and such.”
“You’ll have it.” I pin him with a stare. “But you do realize that once I’ve paid you, you owe me, and I will insist on getting my money’s worth.”
“You’ll get it.” He looks pleased with himself. “It’s nice doing business with you.”
“How soon can you give me something?”
“Not easy to say. I’ll need at least four or five weeks to do that buddy thing. I have to win his trust before he’ll confide in me and tell me what he’s planning.” He looks at Uncle Enzo. “Can I go?”
Uncle Enzo raises a brow at me. I lift an index finger, giving the green light.
My uncle hands him a brown envelope with the down payment, which he shoves into his inside jacket pocket.
“You know how to contact me when you have something for us,” Uncle Enzo says.
