Brothers' Tears by J. M. Gregson Read Free Book Online

immediately, no. I moved around, chatted to one or two people I knew. Then I went to the Gents’ and did the same thing in there. I also had a pee.’
    â€˜How long were you missing from the main banqueting hall?’
    â€˜You mean did I have the opportunity to creep outside and commit fratricide, don’t you? That’s the word for it, you know, in case coppers don’t have a Jesuit education.’ In his wish to score a meaningless point, he’d almost said ‘black coppers’. That showed how carefully you needed to watch your words, that did, he told himself.
    Northcott said calmly, ‘It’s a question our team will be asking of everyone who was present on Monday night. Unless we make an arrest before the process is completed, of course. Do you own a firearm, Mr O’Connor?’
    â€˜No. I don’t need one in the sort of work I do.’
    â€˜But you imply that your brother did. Did he carry a pistol?’
    â€˜I don’t know. I think he might have done. I think I would have done, if I’d moved among the people he associated with and the rivals he dealt with.’ For a moment, his distaste for the dead man flared about Dominic’s lips. It was instantly dismissed.
    Peach stood up. ‘In the meantime, we’d like you to go on thinking, Mr O’Connor. You’re a shrewd and intelligent man. You also know a lot of the people who were at that function better than any detective. If you have any thoughts, please ring this number: whatever you say will of course be treated in the strictest confidence.’
    They’d arranged to meet and this is where it had to be. Steve Tracey didn’t like it, but he wasn’t in a position to call the shots.
    The big Toyota saloon drew up alongside the murdered man’s head of security on the top of the multi-storey car park. He’d specified the spot himself. The woman on the other end of the line had gone away to consult, then returned to the phone and agreed to it. They’d determined on the multi-storey, but he’d said it must be on the top floor. Somehow, he felt more public up here; with the open air around him and the sky above him, he must surely be safer. Now he wondered whether that was so.
    The window beside the driver slid slowly down. ‘Hop into the back, Mr Tracey,’ the face said with false cheerfulness.
    â€˜No way. You get out and we talk here.’
    The big face beamed like that of a man with four aces in his hand. ‘You don’t have a choice, Steve.’ He grinned sideways at the invisible muscle beside him, then repeated, ‘Hop into the back, Mr Tracey.’
    Steve opened the door, slid his bulk swiftly over the leather of the rear seat. One down already. But with his employer dead, he didn’t see how he could call the shots.
    â€˜Boss wants to see you. You could be a fortunate man.’
    They were the only words spoken in fourteen miles. They drove fast, over the moors on the A666 to Bolton, through the town and into the urban sprawl where it merged into greater Manchester. Tracey didn’t know this area and he was correspondingly more nervous. If they beat him up and pitched him out here, he wouldn’t know where to turn for help. If they shot him, there were plenty of places beneath water or concrete where they could dump his corpse so that it would never be seen again. Strange roads and strange buildings brought the sort of wild fears which you did not feel on your own patch.
    He said nothing. They wouldn’t answer his questions and he wasn’t going to attempt any other sort of talk with men like this. They were alien, yet strangely like himself. They were acting under orders and they had no interest in him, unless he prevented those orders being carried out. He knew one of these men and that told him a lot. He thought he knew who they worked for. He wondered whether it was one of the two close-shaven, squat men he could see in