The Silent Pool Read Free Page B

moment just to let them know he was still interested, and then sipped his drink.
    ‘I told your boss after the last case that was the end of it.’
    ‘What was that?’ asked Dan.
    ‘An assault case.’
    ‘An assault on what?’
    Erasmus knew then that Dan must have heard.
    His last case had been digging for dirt on an attendant at the local Blue Planet Aquarium. He'd witnessed Eramus’ client's son, high on meth, stabbing a stingray. But Erasmus had found someone who had sold the witness some marijuana the day before and the case had gone away. Not his proudest moment.
    ‘I am giving you a beautiful woman who will pay a proper billing rate.’
    ‘So she's beautiful and rich. Have you tried to bed her? Is your firm going to be facing a harassment suit? Is this what this is all about?’
    ‘Not at all. If I wasn't married then I may have been tempted but you know me, faithful to the bone.’
    ‘She turned you down, didn't she?’
    Dan laughed.
    ‘Oh and the part about her being rich, that's not strictly true either. It's her uncle-in-law, he's the rich guy. He has lots and lots of lovely money. He was a direct beneficiary of the war on terror. Before 9/11 he was running a wholesale business for medical supplies. Doing OK, but no Donald Trump. Post 9/11 he found himself with warehouses full of surgical masks, gloves and other stuff that he suddenly realised he could sell online to the public. Throw in a few flu pandemic scares and you have a very successful businessman.’
    Erasmus’ drink arrived. He took a sip. Dan shifted in his chair.
    ‘So she comes to see me last week. Tells me that the day he disappeared he just never showed up for work. He works as a bean counter for the council. She got a call from him early in the morning. Seems he pulled a pervo – calls and then breathes heavily down the line – and she still wants to find him.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘That's it. He's been missing ever since. His mobile phone company say his phone is switched off or broken. No trace of him at any of the hospitals or any contact with relatives or friends. The police think he's probably had a breakdown and done a runner. Apparently, he was under a lot of pressure. He worked for the council in the education department and his boss thinks things were getting him down. He was a strike breaker.’
    Before he could help it, an ugly word popped into Erasmus’ mind: scab. That's what his father would call a strike breaker. Inherited prejudices were often the hardest to break. He shook his head and tired to dismiss the thought.
    Dan cast a glance over to the corner table. The girls had been joined by two men. He groaned.
    ‘I don't want the case. I saw this happen in the Army: once a shit-kicker, always a shit-kicker. I'm going to have to say no to this one,’ said Erasmus.
    Dan had started to slur his words. Not a good sign at midday on a Friday afternoon, thought Erasmus.
    ‘Did I tell you I mentioned it to the Bean? You know how hard it is to get a training contract these days? Especially for a man of your, ahem, advancing years. Do this favour and you will be looked upon favourably. Does that help your decision?’
    Erasmus’ hand went to the empty cigarette pocket. He had sent off nearly fifty letters already trying to get a training contract at a law firm. Without one, the money he had borrowed, the exams he had passed, all of it would have been wasted. And more importantly, one of the final building blocks in the bridge to a new life wouldn't be in place. He thought of Abby and sighed.
    ‘Why do I feel I have no choice?’
    ‘Because you haven't, my friend. We never do.’
    Out of the corner of his eye Erasmus noticed that the two men were looking over in their direction and one of them was pointing at Dan. The man was in his late thirties, had a huge balding head and was wearing a tight T-shirt that stretched over bulging muscles. Erasmus sighed and out of habit scanned the room quickly for weapons and exits. Dan was