SHOLTO WAS about to give Darian a warning about the googly eyes he was giving DC Vicario, had it all planned out in his mind, spelling out how dangerous a beautiful cop could be to a private detective, when he heard more footsteps on the stairs outside.
Sholto looked at the ceiling and, instead of his worldly warnings, said, “Oh, bloody hell, give me strength, it’s busier than Ciad Station in here today.”
It was only their second visitor of the day, but Darian didn’t point that out. He was thinking instead that the new arrival must have been watching Angela Vicario, waiting for her to leave before they called in. He could only think of a short list of people who would wait for her to go before they thought it safe to enter.
The knock came on the door, an elaborate rat-a-tat. Sholto got up from his desk and opened it, looking at the new arrival. His face fell.
“Noonan. DS Noonan, I mean.”
“Sholto, you old bugger, how the hell are you? Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
DS Dennis Noonan. Darian had heard the name before, heard Sholto talking about him in terms that would make an honest man’s skin crawl. Noonan was, according to Sholto, corrupt to his core. He was the very worst of the bad news that floated around in Challaid Police Force. Avoid at all costs, that was the easy-to-follow advice. Couldn’t avoid a man who had just walked into your office, though.
Noonan was in his late forties, stocky and with a gut, graying hair that looked like it needed a visit to the barber, blotchy skin and a fat, red boozer’s nose. He had a mocking smile on his face as he sat down in the chair on the other side of Sholto’s desk, glancing across at Darian.
Noonan looked at him and said, in his thick, working-class Challaid accent, “You must be the Ross boy, eh?”
“Darian Ross.”
“Aye, aye. I remember your father, you know. Didn’t work with him, probably a good thing, isn’t it, given what happened to him. Not a man to be associated with.”
He was chuckling as he said it, and Sholto, who had worked closely and extensively with Darian’s father, sat heavily opposite him. “What do you want, Noonan?”
“Noonan? Dennis, it’s Dennis, call me Dennis, Sholto. I wanted to come and see this place, see how you work. Oh, I fancy this, I do, I really do, you know, when I pack in the proper job. A wee office like this, nice and easy cases, none of the shite we get in the force, get a nice wee assistant. Wouldn’t have one like yours, a lad like that, oh no. I’d have a wee dolly bird with tits out to here, have her answer the phone in a short skirt, just sit here watching her. Och, it’s a good wee gig you have here, Sholto, eh.”
Sholto didn’t smile, didn’t nod along, didn’t react at all. It was unlike him, Darian was so used to seeing him try to ingratiate himself with whoever was sitting opposite him, always trying to be pally with the old cops. Not Noonan, though. Not this time.
Sholto said, “It’s no picnic. We have tough cases, and we have a lot more restrictions in how we handle them than you do. A lot more. We’re working very hard here, Dennis, so don’t go thinking it’s an easy retirement plan.”
Noonan smiled, looking round and grinning at Darian with yellow teeth, then back at Sholto. “Well, it’s good to see you still care, eh, got some of the old passion for this job. No, I still think I’d like to do it. Getting toward the end of my run with the force, they’re always dropping hints about my age, makes a man feel unloved, you know. I think something like this could be for me. And there’ll be a gap in the market, won’t there, eh, Sholto, because you’re not going to be doing this for very long.”
“Is that right?”
“Oh, aye, aye, you’ll be evacuating the office. Hey, you know, I might even rent this very office for my own, eh, if I decide to follow in your footsteps. That would be a laugh, wouldn’t it, Sholto? I’ll sit where you are and get my glamourous assistant sat over there by the window where the boy is, get her in a tight top with a breeze coming in the window. You’ll be…Well, I don’t know where you’ll be. Might be in The Ganntair, but probably not. You’ll get convicted, I mean, that’s guaranteed, you know that, but I don’t suppose they’ll waste a cell on either of you two. You’ll be pottering about your garden, if you have one.”
Sholto was still expressionless when he said, “That a threat, Dennis?”
“Not a threat, oh no, come on now, I would never threaten a friend, a former copper. No, no, I’m trying to help you out here, Sholto. The force, it’s watching you and it doesn’t like what it sees. Let you get away with a lot of nonsense in the past, all that palaver with Corey and his mob, and now you’re at it again. They’re coming for you, Sholto. Coming for Douglas Independent Research. Running an unregistered private detective agency, oh, Sholto, tut, tut, they’re not going to let that go on.”
Sholto glanced past Noonan to Darian, then said, “We didn’t fold when Raven tried to lean on us, tried to lure Darian away. We didn’t crumble when Harold Sutherland came in here shouting his mouth off, and we won’t be intimidated now.”
Noonan smiled and said with mock shock, “Harold Sutherland? You’ve been making an enemy of Harold Sutherland? Oh, Sholto, I had no idea, things must be even worse than I realized. I came here to try and warn you, help you, but I can see now it’s too late. You’re finished, the pair of you.”
Noonan got up and walked to the door as he was speaking, that last sentence delivered sternly enough to be a threat, whatever the cop wanted to call it. He let himself out, left Sholto and Darian sitting in the office. Darian leaned back in his chair and looked out of the window, watching Noonan stroll off down Cage Street, making sure he was gone before they spoke.
“A cop.”
Sholto nodded. “A dirty cop. And he wasn’t here representing the force, he was here on behalf of his other employers. He was here for Harold Sutherland.”
“He could shut us down, though. You’ve always said it, cops are the ones we have to fear the most.”
Sholto was looking unusually thoughtful, staring down at his desk. “They are, but Noonan is a bad choice for Sutherland. He works out of Bakers station, not Bank, so this isn’t his patch, and he’s not loved. Other cops hate Dennis Noonan. Other humans hate Dennis Noonan.”
“So…?”
“So we still have a job to do and we’re still going to do it. We’ll, uh, keep an eye out for Noonan and his colleagues, though, maybe try and shore up a few friendly cops of our own. The police can destroy us, but they can rescue us, too.”