‘So we can agree the Perrys have unsavoury political views,’ Gill said.
‘Is the EBA a banned organization?’ Janet asked.
‘Not yet, there hasn’t been time, but I believe it’s under consideration,’ Gill said. ‘Have the Perrys any history of firearm offences?’
‘No,’ Mitch said.
‘Connected?’ she asked, thinking about the criminal fraternity.
Mitch shook his head.
‘Right,’ Gill said, ‘once we’ve more hard evidence we’ll have a word with the Chuckle Brothers. Who are the main players on the estate? Who’s causing us grief on Manorclough these days?’
‘Most of the drug traffic is believed to be controlled by Marcus Williams,’ Mitch said. He’d been talking to the neighbourhood policing team and to the drug squad. ‘Williams stepped up when Keith Grant was busted. Been in charge ever since. A cannabis farm closed down in January was believed to be his. Steady business, handles the lot, Class Bs, some Class As.’
‘Except he doesn’t handle anything,’ Gill said.
‘That’s right, hands free.’ Mitch showed his palms. ‘There’s even talk of him standing for the local council.’
‘You’re kidding,’ said Janet.
‘The lure of respectability,’ Gill said.
Mitch smiled.
‘Anyone picked up for the cannabis farm?’ Gill said.
‘Suspects are awaiting trial, no one’s talking,’ Mitch said.
‘So who is our victim? Has he started a turf war? Is Williams the trigger-happy type?’
‘No. Things been very quiet on that front,’ Mitch said.
‘Is Williams into any other business, prostitution, loan sharks?’
‘Concentrates on the drugs,’ said Mitch. ‘Known associate, Stanley Keane, a bruiser, he’s probably Williams’s enforcer.’
‘We park that information,’ said Gill. ‘If we find any link between Williams and company and our victim then we’ll come back to it.’
‘Maybe it’s been set up to look like a hit when it’s actually a domestic,’ Kevin said. ‘The wife or whoever has had enough. Hires a hitman.’
‘Thinking on an empty stomach, Kevin, never a good idea,’ said Gill.
‘It happens,’ Kevin said.
‘Thinking?’ This from Rachel.
‘Hired hitmen,’ Kevin said.
‘Rarely,’ Gill said. ‘If you’re right I’ll buy you a pint. And a pot to put it in. OK, what else… nothing as yet to indicate the body was moved to the site post-mortem. Good start,’ she wound things up, ‘get some kip. See you tomorrow.’
Gill was surprised to find Sammy at home when she finally got back after ten. ‘Thought you were going to your dad’s,’ she said, surveying the empty pizza box, the baking tray in the sink, and half a dozen dirty mugs and glasses on the counter.
‘We rearranged,’ he said.