restaurant or bar, and this little toe-rag stumbled across it and decided to invent a story for money. I take it that has crossed your mind?’
‘Of course, but he hasn’t asked for money. Well, not yet. And he didn’t even ask for money when he gave me the pass.’
‘Yeah. But he will. You know that.’
‘I know. But he hasn’t, Mick. And he’s given me the pass.’
‘So you think he’s telling the truth?’
Rosie sat down on the bed, plumped up the pillows and lay back.
‘It’s hard to say, but I don’t think he’s making it up. My instincts tell me that. Just something about him, the way he told the story. I know he looks like a little kid, and that guys from the street like him could probably buy and sell most of us. Yet I get the feeling that he’s just found himself in the middle of something and hewants to get it out there. His information about someone lifting the kid won’t make a whole lot of difference to the hunt. I suppose he can describe to the cops what he remembers of the man on the beach, though that’s not really going to help track Amy down. It’ll be too vague, plus it’s a bit late. But for us, the story is not just in what he saw, it’s in who he claims he was with. It’s going to take a bit of digging, but it will be massive if we can do it. Massive.’
McGuire went quiet for a moment.
‘Tell you what, Rosie. I need to make a couple of discreet inquiries with my political allies, and see what Carter-Smith does in Spain at this time of year … if he has a place, or visits friends or whatever. We might find out what he’s doing there, and if he has police protection and stuff. And what about this boy? Where is he now? Are you going to see him again?’
‘Yes, I’ve arranged to meet him tonight. He called me a little while ago. He says he has some more information but I don’t know what it is. I need to keep him totally on side so I might drop him some cash. Keep him sweet.’
‘Great. Tell Matt to get a picture of him.’
‘Already done. I called Matt just after we spoke and got him to bag a snatch pic of Taha as he was leaving the hotel.’
‘Excellent. Well, let’s see what he says tonight. I’ll talk to some friends, then we’ll speak again tomorrow. The arse will fall out of the empire if we can run this story.’
Rosie now told him what Taha had said about the manand the woman coming out of the house, and how it differed from the version given by Jenny and O’Hara.
‘This is beginning to stink a bit, Rosie.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘But there’s a missing girl here, Mick. Let’s not forget the bigger picture.’
‘Yeah, but it’s something we have to bear in mind. We’ll see how it goes. Talk tomorrow.’ He hung up.
Behind the bravado as she talked the story up to McGuire, Rosie was already troubled, again thinking of Mags Gillick. She could see her face, clear as that day when they’d first met in the cafe and Mags spilled the lot about Gavin Fox. Rosie thought she’d dealt with the guilt of Mags being murdered because she’d blabbed to her about the corrupt cops, but this Moroccan kid with his story was bringing it all back. She told herself to get a grip. She had a job to do.
It was already after eight by the time Rosie arrived at the restaurant in Fuengirola. Taha had said he would meet her in the last chirunguito , the Spanish name for the beach restaurants strung along promenade. It would be easy for her to find. Matt dropped her off and was waiting nearby. She’d give him a call when the time was right, but Rosie wanted meet Taha on her own and gain his complete confidence.
The restaurant was quiet except for three older Spanish men sitting at a table watching basketball on the wall-mounted television in the corner. Rosie nodded to the waiter and walked past him to sit outside in the warm night air, choosing a table as far away as possible fromtwo British couples who were finishing their meal and talking loudly. They were
‘Of course, but he hasn’t asked for money. Well, not yet. And he didn’t even ask for money when he gave me the pass.’
‘Yeah. But he will. You know that.’
‘I know. But he hasn’t, Mick. And he’s given me the pass.’
‘So you think he’s telling the truth?’
Rosie sat down on the bed, plumped up the pillows and lay back.
‘It’s hard to say, but I don’t think he’s making it up. My instincts tell me that. Just something about him, the way he told the story. I know he looks like a little kid, and that guys from the street like him could probably buy and sell most of us. Yet I get the feeling that he’s just found himself in the middle of something and hewants to get it out there. His information about someone lifting the kid won’t make a whole lot of difference to the hunt. I suppose he can describe to the cops what he remembers of the man on the beach, though that’s not really going to help track Amy down. It’ll be too vague, plus it’s a bit late. But for us, the story is not just in what he saw, it’s in who he claims he was with. It’s going to take a bit of digging, but it will be massive if we can do it. Massive.’
McGuire went quiet for a moment.
‘Tell you what, Rosie. I need to make a couple of discreet inquiries with my political allies, and see what Carter-Smith does in Spain at this time of year … if he has a place, or visits friends or whatever. We might find out what he’s doing there, and if he has police protection and stuff. And what about this boy? Where is he now? Are you going to see him again?’
‘Yes, I’ve arranged to meet him tonight. He called me a little while ago. He says he has some more information but I don’t know what it is. I need to keep him totally on side so I might drop him some cash. Keep him sweet.’
‘Great. Tell Matt to get a picture of him.’
‘Already done. I called Matt just after we spoke and got him to bag a snatch pic of Taha as he was leaving the hotel.’
‘Excellent. Well, let’s see what he says tonight. I’ll talk to some friends, then we’ll speak again tomorrow. The arse will fall out of the empire if we can run this story.’
Rosie now told him what Taha had said about the manand the woman coming out of the house, and how it differed from the version given by Jenny and O’Hara.
‘This is beginning to stink a bit, Rosie.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘But there’s a missing girl here, Mick. Let’s not forget the bigger picture.’
‘Yeah, but it’s something we have to bear in mind. We’ll see how it goes. Talk tomorrow.’ He hung up.
Behind the bravado as she talked the story up to McGuire, Rosie was already troubled, again thinking of Mags Gillick. She could see her face, clear as that day when they’d first met in the cafe and Mags spilled the lot about Gavin Fox. Rosie thought she’d dealt with the guilt of Mags being murdered because she’d blabbed to her about the corrupt cops, but this Moroccan kid with his story was bringing it all back. She told herself to get a grip. She had a job to do.
It was already after eight by the time Rosie arrived at the restaurant in Fuengirola. Taha had said he would meet her in the last chirunguito , the Spanish name for the beach restaurants strung along promenade. It would be easy for her to find. Matt dropped her off and was waiting nearby. She’d give him a call when the time was right, but Rosie wanted meet Taha on her own and gain his complete confidence.
The restaurant was quiet except for three older Spanish men sitting at a table watching basketball on the wall-mounted television in the corner. Rosie nodded to the waiter and walked past him to sit outside in the warm night air, choosing a table as far away as possible fromtwo British couples who were finishing their meal and talking loudly. They were
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