Authors: Heather Atkinson
“Table back left corner of the room,” replied Brodie.
Pete’s head never moved as his eyes flicked up to Lucas then back down to the menu. “Looks like an elf.”
Brodie sniggered into his menu. “That’s fucking priceless pal. I’m glad I brought you along now.”
“Glad I could help. So how are you going to meet him? Wander over there and say hello big boy, come here often?”
Brodie’s gaze was cold. “No.”
“You’d better be quick, he’s eaten his custard and he doesn’t look to have much coffee left.”
“Watch me work,” said Brodie, getting to his feet.
“Hold on, what do you want to order?”
“Anything. Coffee.”
“And something to eat?”
“Yeah.”
“What?”
“Anything.”
“Can’t you be more specific?”
“For Christ’s sake I’m trying to work here. I don’t care, just get me anything.”
“Alright but don’t blame me if you don’t like it.”
“I won’t,” Brodie mumbled as he walked away, heading towards the toilets, going the long way round so he had to pass Lucas’s table. To Brodie’s satisfaction Lucas had his mobile phone out on the table beside his newspaper.
Just as he reached his mark Brodie covertly dropped a fiver on the floor. He made a show of stopping and looking down at it before scooping it up. “Is this yours pal?” he said, holding the crumpled fiver out to Lucas.
“No, it’s not,” he politely replied.
Brodie frowned at him. “You look familiar. Have we met before?” He cringed at the way the words came out, it sounded like he was hitting on him.
“No, I don’t think so.”
Brodie couldn’t help but stare at his eyes, they were weird but he could imagine women falling for them, especially Cass, she was a sucker for a pair of unusual eyes.
“Can I help you with something?” said Lucas uncertainly when Brodie continued to stare at him.
“I’m just trying to figure out where I know you from. Are you famous or something?”
“I’m an artist,” he replied modestly.
“Aye that’s right. The heids.”
“The what?”
“The faces. I read about them in the paper. That was you, wasn’t it?”
“Yes it was.”
At that point his little surprise for Lucas Thorne sashayed past, wriggling her backside for all she was worth and giving him the glad eye.
“Nice,” commented Brodie. “She likes you.”
Lucas shrugged. “She can like all she wants. I’m seeing someone and she puts her in the shade. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he said, returning to his newspaper.
When it became clear Lucas wasn’t going to interact anymore Brodie was left with no choice but to retreat to the toilet. He gave it a minute before exiting and making his way back to the table, glancing at Lucas sipping his coffee while flicking through the newspaper.
“Well?” said Pete when Brodie returned to the table.
“He passed my little test.”
“I take it the test was the blond with the killer bahookie?”
“Aye. He didn’t even react, just said he’s seeing someone who puts Kitten in the shade.”
“Kitten, is that the blonde’s name?”
“Yep,” replied Brodie, taking a sip of the coffee the waitress placed before him.
“How do you know someone called Kitten?” said Pete with a smirk.
“We go way back.”
“She’s gorgeous, sexy. Why don’t you forget about Cass and go for Kitten instead?”
“Because she’s married. She owed me a favour after I sorted out her nasty ex for her.”
“So you think Lucas Thorne is alright?”
“I never said that but he seems to like Cass and he showed no interest in Kitten. I don’t think he’d cheat on her.”
“How terrible,” said Pete sarcastically.
“Everyone has a flaw and I’m going to find his.”
Pete sighed and shook his head. “You know, I wasted years of my life on her majesty the dragon queen. When I married her I knew she wasn’t really right for me, we got each other’s backs up too much. Now I can never get that time back. If Cass has met someone she really likes and who will treat her well why don’t you just leave them alone? It’s hard enough to meet the right person. If she finally has then I don’t think you should interfere with that.”
“What a fucking soft thing to say. Did the dragon queen get your gonads in the divorce too?”
“I’m saying if you really care about her you’ll let this go.”
“And what if he’s a murdering psycho?”
“What if he’s not and your interfering messes this up for her? She’ll never forgive you then you really will lose her.”
Brodie went quiet and stared at the tabletop. “I’ll lose her anyway. He’ll whisk her away, she won’t need to work with the cash he’s got.”
“So that’s really it.”
“No it’s not. I honestly think he might have something to do with Fred’s disappearance.”
“I give up,” sighed Pete, shaking his head and biting into a cookie. “You’re a stubborn bugger.”
“I know, it’s what makes me such fascinating company,” he grinned.
“And what if you do succeed in splitting them up, what then? You go on pretending you’re not in love with her and she’s back to being single and lonely.”
His grin dropped. “Cass isn’t lonely.”
“She’s pining for something, I can see it in her eyes every time I look at her. Don’t screw up something that could be good for her.”
“Shut it you big tart,” said Brodie. He picked up his cake and frowned at it. “I hate éclairs. Why’d you get me one?”
“Because you said to get you anything, it didn’t matter.”
“I didn’t mean a bloody éclair. You know I don’t like them.”
“If I did know I wouldn’t have got you one. Shut up whinging and eat, it’s only chocolate and pastry.”
“I don’t want it,” he muttered, pushing the plate away.
“Did anyone tell you that you’re a big baby?”
They started to bicker then went silent when they realised they’d drawn attention to themselves again. Even Lucas was watching them with an amused smile.
“Great, everyone thinks you’re my boyfriend now,” muttered Pete.
“I’m way out of your league,” said Brodie as the door opened and his second accomplice walked in clutching a bag, approaching their table with his shoulders slumped.
“Hello Weasel,” said Brodie cheerfully.
The Weasel just gave him a withering look.
“Is that his real name?” said Pete.
Brodie’s smile was malicious. “Nope. It’s my nickname for him.”
“Oh dear Weasel, what did you do to piss off Mr MacBride?” said Pete, taking in his bruised face. “What are you looking at?” he snapped when his eyes flicked up to his hair.
“Nothing,” he hastily said.
“It’s not important what he did,” said Brodie. “What is important is that you do your stuff Weasel.”
He sighed again, pulled his laptop out of the bag and set it up. After a few minutes of stabbing miserably at the keyboard he leaned back in his seat. “Ready,” he muttered, folding his skinny arms across his skinny stomach. “All we need is for him to use his mobile.”
Pete sat up straight in his seat. “Mobile?”
Brodie’s look was withering. “You stupid Weasel.”
“Do you seriously expect me to sit here while you hack into some poor bastard’s private accounts?” said Pete. “I’m a detective inspector for Christ’s sake.”
“Detective inspector?” repeated the Weasel, paling.
They both ignored him.
“You want to protect Cass, don’t you?” said Brodie, addressing Pete.
“Course I do but I will not sit by and watch you commit a crime.”
“I’m not. The Weasel is.”
“Only because you asked me to,” said the Weasel, panicking.
“Shut up Weasel,” hissed Brodie. He turned his attention back to Pete. “I’m not going to do anything with the information. I just want to make sure he’s not dodgy.”
“The only dodgy one in here is you and this skinny wee prick,” he said.
“Hey,” objected Weasel.
“Listen,” pressed Brodie. “Once I know Thorne isn’t dodgy then I can let all this drop and he and Cass can live happily ever after. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Yes but…”
“All this over and done with then we can get on with our lives.”
“Aye but…”
“Then this is the only way. No one need ever know.”
“
I’ll
know.”
“You’ll get over it.” Brodie glanced at Lucas. “Look, he’s picking up his phone. I knew it, everyone checks their phone before walking out the door, just in case there’s some urgent last minute message. Do your stuff Weasel.”
The Weasel looked to Pete for permission.
“Go ahead,” sighed Pete, throwing himself back in his chair and glaring at his coffee. “But if anyone finds out I’m blaming it all on the Weasel.”
“Fine by me,” said Brodie.
The Weasel stared from one to the other, looking hurt. “That’s no’ fair.”
“Life isn’t fair,” retorted Brodie. “Get on with it.”
The Weasel jabbed at one button with a thin digit, the nail full of dirt.
“Is that it?” said Brodie.
“Aye. I’ve got all his information on my laptop.”
The three of them covertly watched Lucas shove his phone into his inner jacket pocket, get to his feet, pick up his cane, dump a generous tip on the table then exit the coffee shop.
“Well, let’s see then,” said Brodie, grabbing the laptop and turning it towards him.
“Careful, you’ll break it,” protested the Weasel.
“Stop it, you nearly spilt coffee over me,” said Pete, just managing to correct a falling cup at the last second before it spilt all over his legs.
They were so engrossed in their bickering that none of them spotted Lucas Thorne frowning at them through the window as he walked by.
“Nothing,” sighed Brodie as he trawled through all the information hacked from Lucas Thorne’s phone on the Weasel’s laptop. “Not even a dirty e-mail.”
“There you go, he’s clean,” said a relieved Pete.
“I don’t like it,” said Brodie. “He’s too clean. He didn’t even have any porn on there.”
“I don’t have any on my computer,” said Pete.
“Me neither,” said Weasel.
“You’re both lying bastards. Every man does.”
“Listen Brodie,” sighed Pete, massaging the bridge of his nose. “If there was something to find we would have found it. Now I know it’s not gone the way you would have liked but the man has no secrets. Can you please just let it go?”
“This proves nothing. If he is murdering people then he’s not going to put it on his social media profile, is he?”
The muscle in Pete’s jaw throbbed. “Speaking from my years of experience as a police officer I say there’s nothing to find. Leave the man alone.”
Brodie looked at the Weasel. “What do you think?”
“Me?” he said, surprised to be asked.
“Aye. You’re used to snooping through people’s private stuff. What do you think?”
“I think he’s okay.” He swallowed hard when Brodie looked furious. “But I might be wrong.”
“Aye you are you silly wee sod. If that’s all the help you’re going to be then you can both bugger off.”
“Charming,” said Pete. He scooped up the laptop in one meaty hand. “I’ll take that thank you.”
“Oy, you cannae take that,” protested the Weasel. “It’s private property and you don’t have a warrant.”
Pete thrust his face into his. “I can always get one. At the same time I can tell my colleagues that you get your jollies from hacking into people’s private accounts.”
“Alright, keep the laptop,” he squeaked.
“You’ll get it back once I’m certain it contains nothing that could be used in criminal activity and once I’m certain all Lucas Thorne’s information has been properly wiped.”
“Fine,” mumbled the Weasel, getting to his feet. “You promised me cash.”
“Here you go,” said Brodie, dumping two pounds in his hands.
The Weasel gaped at him. “You promised me two hundred.”
“Aye I did. Two hundred pence.”
“Hey, you can’t do that.”
“Did I sign a contract? Course not. Now do one before my friend here pulls out his handcuffs.”
“I’m gone,” he said before running out the door.
“You’re a sly bastard,” Pete told Brodie.
“I prefer the word wily. You gonnae stand there all day with that nippy sweetie look on your ugly mug.”
Pete unpursed his lips. “I turn a blind eye when you’re working for a good cause Brodie but I won’t let you sink yourself because of your crush. Pull yourself together for fuck’s sake or I’ll nick you myself.”
With that Pete left too, trembling with indignity, leaving Brodie alone with his miserable thoughts.