Jimbo Mullins had decided fairly quickly to reject D.C.I. Hunt's kind offer of slicing off his whole foot if it was hurting him and had opted instead to give them the name of his boss. It wasn't one Alex recognised, but Gene and Ray had both sucked air in through their teeth and Chris had muttered, 'Bloody hell…"
"Warren Driscoll," Gene repeated, adding, in response to Alex's interrogative expression, "Not a nice man, Drake." He swiped at a garden gnome with the spade. "Not a nice man at all."
As expected, the wheelbarrow had contained a couple of kilos of heroin hidden inside empty sacks and Mullins' shed, which boasted an array of locks which would have been impressive even by the standards of a proud gardener afraid of having his best tools stolen, had turned out to be full of wooden crates of cash. Ray whistled.
"Waste of good soil," observed Chris, looking down at the untended seedbeds. "I reckon he could've grown some nice stuff here if he'd been trying."
"I think he was a bit busy, mate," said Ray, patiently.
"Right," said Gene. "Warren Driscoll…"
He wasn't in. Not only that, but after Gene, Chris and Ray smashed their way into his office only to find it empty it seemed highly unlikely he would be caught there any time soon.
"You just went steaming in like a bull in a china shop," Alex snapped, exasperated.
"Well someone needed to. This isn't the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies, Bolly: there are greasy scum bastards out there."
"There is a time and a place for bullish!"
"Fair enough. Yours or mine?"
Alex threw up her hands. "You know, there's no talking to you sometimes."
"If only that were true - I can't seem to get you to shut up."
"A bull in a bloody china shop..." she raged, almost incoherent with frustration.
He stuck his thumbs in his belt loops. "Bloody hell woman, you're fixated but the answer is yes: a bull between the sheets and all."
"Oh, of course. And a donkey between the legs, naturally..." Alex, said, flinging up her arms in despair and knowing her mother would have been appalled to hear her.
Even Gene seemed slightly taken aback. "Steady on Bolly…"
Then he apparently thought better of it: "Still, if that's what you want, let's get the whole farmyard involved - I always knew you were a filthy mare."
The absurdity of the conversation almost made Alex laugh out loud, but then she remembered they were still at a dead end. She took a deep, steadying breath. "I haven't got time for this."
"No, you're right: you're not getting any younger and there are still drug-dealing rats infesting my streets. First things first, eh Bolls?"
"Exactly."
They headed for the car, Alex muttering: "Catch the dealers, then Hell freezes over and you and I go to bed together. Busy day..."