Page 35 of She Saw What He Did

The White Horse pub was a dump. Sparrow never frequented it as a rule. A chalkboard outside announced they were serving food. He was hungry, but he had no intention of eating here. Once the meeting was over he’d take himself to The Anchor for a decent dinner. He rested his hand on the rough paintwork of the door and hesitated. It was dimly lit inside which suited him. The place was crowded but then everywhere was this time of year. The jangle of voices made his head hurt. He stood at the entrance for a moment and then made his way to the alcove to the left of the bar, where he’d been instructed to go. Sitting at a battered wooden table was a man nursing a whisky. Sparrow assured himself the man looked harmless enough. He was about fifty, Sparrow judged. He was overweight. Sparrow would be able to handle him if there was trouble.

‘Mr Sparrow?’ enquired the man above the noise from the bar.

‘Might be,’ said Sparrow. He wasn’t going to commit himself. Not just yet.

‘Whisky?’ the man offered, and Sparrow then saw the bottle of single malt on the table. It was dim in the alcove and Sparrow wondered what else the man might be hiding.

‘Yeah, why not,’ said Sparrow.

He didn’t often get to drink single malt. He was sweating, and it wasn’t from the heat. He’d fucked things up, he knew that. He’d been surprised to get the call.

‘What happened?’ asked the voice.

‘Some couple took it. I can get it back.’

He wasn’t going to tell them about the murder.

‘I heard you fucked up.’

‘No one came to collect it,’ he said accusingly. ‘I waited.’

‘You fucked up,’ said the voice ominously. ‘They want to talk about it. Everything may not be lost. We did our bit. You have to deal with them now if you want your money. I won’t be in contact again. You made us look stupid.’

He needed that fifty thousand more than ever now. He had to get out of the country. He looked around, checking there was no one nearby that he knew. Once he was reassured he turned back to the man and pulled out the chair opposite.

‘So?’ he questioned, narrowing his eyes.

He gave the man a fake smile. There was another glass on the table and the man poured whisky into it. Sparrow looked around again. They wouldn’t do anything to him with all these people in the pub. Sparrow looked at the man in front of him. With his eyes accustomed to the dimness he could see that the man was even older than he had at first thought.

In a flat voice the man said,

‘Some people are not happy with you.’

Sparrow’s breathing quickened.

‘I can get the box,’ he said. ‘I know where it is.’

‘You don’t have it?’

Sparrow began to sweat.

‘I can get it.’

‘This wasn’t your usual cargo,’ the man reminded him. ‘You were being paid a lot of money to take care of this.’

He was well spoken. Not a typical drug dealer, Sparrow thought.

‘I can get it,’ Sparrow repeated in a strained voice.

‘We have a proposition for you.’ The man leant forward. ‘We’ll pay you extra,’ he met Sparrow’s gaze with the smile of someone who knows he has the upper hand.

‘How much extra?’ Sparrow asked.

‘Twenty thousand on top of what we’re already offering,’ said the man, topping up their glasses.

Sparrow looked at the man incredulously. He’d been preparing himself to take less.

‘You want to pay me more money?’ he said disbelievingly.

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