‘Get rid of this.’ Blake prised the SIM from Sheridan’s phone, handed it to Quint.
‘Glad to,’ he said, taking it from her and pocketing it.
‘Not around here,’ she told him, ‘I’ll deal with the phone.’
They both looked at the body of her colleague slumped by the side of his car. Blood had sprayed all over the window and roof, and left smears where his body had slid down to the ground.
‘What we going to do with him?’ asked Quint. ‘You thought of that?’
‘Yep. Put him in his car and leave him here.’
‘He’ll be found.’
‘He will. But not till tomorrow and I’ll be involved in working his case. Now go on. Get him in there.’
Quint bent down, manhandled Sheridan into the driver’s seat, careful not to get any blood on his clothes. Blake stood there, watching him.
‘Don’t bother to help,’ he said.
‘I won’t. You’re off back to Cornwall after this. I’m not. I don’t want his blood on me.’
He finished his task, crossed to his bike, hidden in the bushes. Got on it, checked no one was watching them then roared away.
Blake watched him go. Looked at Sheridan’s car. Tried to decide what she was feeling.
He was her partner. No, had been her partner. But that didn’t mean she should be upset at his passing. Yes he had a wife and children who would be heartbroken at his death. And she would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a pang of remorse for them. But it had to be done. Had to. Once he realised what had been going on it was either him or her. And it wasn’t going to be her. He would never understand. That was the heartbreaking thing. If he had been any other kind of copper, more able to turn a blind eye or even, for a cut, help her, it would have been different. But he was straight by the book, boring Sheridan. Well, some of the things she had planned for him in death would put the lie to that. Tarnish forever his image as the perfect cop. Yes it was sad, but again, she had no choice.
She took out her phone. Not her usual one, a cheap pay as you go burner. Unregistered. Untraceable. Called a memorised number. Waited. It was answered.
‘It’s me. Sheridan’s been dealt with. You can move on Killgannon.’
She cut the call, didn’t wait for a response. Pocketed the phone and walked away.