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Grizzly. Even when he wasn't doing anything, he wore the potential for explosive action like a cloak. Riotous assemblies quietened down when he walked past. Having fists the size of butchers’ hams didn't hurt.
    ‘Sorry,’ he said belatedly. ‘Around here, that's what passes for wit.’
    She grinned at that. ‘Here, and every other police station I've been in this last twelve months.’
    To be fair, she wasn't a beauty, probably wasn't even as a girl. Perhaps she was handsome; perhaps it would be more accurate to say that she was attractive, because attractiveness goes beyond appearance and speaks also of the personality, the intellect, even the soul. Deacon couldn't put his finger on what it was but – like the joke – he knew he wasn't the first man to spot it.
    He gave himself a mental shake. This wasn't why either of them was here. ‘So how can I help, Inspector Hyde?’
    ‘This is a courtesy call,’ she said, ‘in a way. I'm after one of your local villains and it seemed only polite to let you know. And also…’ And there she stopped.
    Deacon frowned. ‘What?’
    The strong lines of Alix Hyde's face twisted momentarily in a gargoyle grimace. ‘It might be awkward. You know the man.’
    ‘I should hope I do,’ grunted Deacon. ‘I should hope I know every villain within a thirty mile radius who's big enough for SOCA to have got wind of.’
    ‘Yes, of course.’ But there was something she wasn't saying, something she felt the need to be tactful about. ‘I mean personally. Don't read any more into this, and don't think I'mreading any more into it, but you personally know him personally. I wanted to be sure that wasn't going to be a problem.’
    Now Deacon knew what she was pussy-footing around. ‘You're talking about Terry Walsh.’
    She nodded. ‘I'm told – and I may have been told wrong -you were friends once.’
    For a moment Deacon didn't react, left her guessing. Then he sniffed disparagingly. ‘You weren't told wrong. You may have been misled. I knew him when we were boys. His family lived in the next street to us. We went to the same school, played for the same football team – it was that sort of friendship. Long but not particularly close. I moved down here – what? – ten years ago now. A few years later Terry bought a site up on the Firestone Cliffs and built that damn mansion of his. I think he was as surprised to see me as I was to see him.’
    ‘He's done well for himself,’ said Inspector Hyde guardedly.
    Deacon gave a sharkish grin, at once more honest and more attractive than his Cary Grant impression. ‘No, Inspector,
Vve
done well for myself. Terry has made more money, but he hasn't done it legally. There's a difference.’
    She nodded appreciatively. ‘Indeed there is. About eight years, with good behaviour. I take it, then, you've no problem with me going after him?’
    ‘Of course I haven't,’ he assured her. ‘We could have been a lot better friends and I'd still help you bust him if the evidence was there.’
    Alix Hyde raised an eyebrow. ‘You're saying it isn't?’
    ‘I'm saying Terry Walsh is a clever man, and a careful man.I know he didn't make that kind of money by diligent endeavour. A lot of police officers have reached the same conclusion over the years, but none of us has been able to bring him down. I'm not saying you won't, and I'm certainly not saying you shouldn't try, but don't think it'll be easy. Terry came from nowhere with nothing. Even then he could outsmart just about anyone else. Imagine how much better he is after thirty years’ practice. Good luck to you, Inspector -you'll need it.’
    She rocked a broad, perfectly manicured hand. ‘Well – I have some ideas about that. This isn't just housekeeping. I didn't get a memo from Head Office telling me it was time someone had another go at Terry Walsh. I wouldn't be here if I didn't think I had a good chance of getting him. I think this time he's going down. But I would appreciate your