STATUS DRIFT: A gripping undercover detective crime thriller by Ian Robinson

Author:Ian Robinson [Robinson, Ian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: THE BOOK FOLKS bestselling crime fiction publisher
Published: 2024-04-07T00:00:00+00:00

17

Razor has a face like a revenue officer whose most wanted has been given a rebate. We’re in what I have come to know as “The Bunker”. It’s his den. The same one I was in earlier this morning. This time the air is thick with the fumes of disdain emanating from Razor’s pores. He’s pacing like a caged lion awaiting his midday feed. He stops and goes behind his desk and takes a seat. A house butler hands him a cigar box. Razor takes a cigar and leans in to the proffered lighter. He takes a lungful and expels the smoke, his pursed lips hostile to the gathered crowd. It’s as if a faulty smoke grenade’s misfired enough for a weak effect. Trigger has said nothing. The bike’s radio mic was killed on the way back. Snowy and Kat have their respective places in the room. I’m done with the games and kick things off.

‘I don’t know about all of you but I’ve got plans. Let’s get this done and dusted.’

As anticipated, the fuse was short enough to let Trigger explode.

‘Get things done and dusted? You stupid prick! You fucked everything up out there and you know it. From the off you had the filth on you. You wouldn’t fucking listen to common sense and let me handle it. To top it all, you let the Turk go. Now your plans can go fuck themselves, sunshine, because you’ve cost us big time.’

He sits down after his speech. His shirt collar is open at the top button. He’s left room to breathe. I lean on the pool table because a cue is on the surface and I may need it. Snowy is at the door, Kat is sat close to Trigger. I’ve had worse times in the dock. I know my notes for this jury. I intend to present them, leaving His Honour, Razor, in no doubt as to where the guilt lies.

‘You done? Now let me explain how I see things. I got here as I was told to. I was met by Trigger and waited whilst he did a drift of snow and a double of Club Scotch before being told to follow him on the bike.’

Razor’s eyes shift to Trigger, his lips’ tension on the tight-rolled cigar becoming more pronounced.

‘I follow him whilst he draws attention to us by doing childish moves through traffic that only a novice on a job would pull.’

Trigger takes the bait. Before he can get up, Razor waves him to remain seated. I carry on regardless.

‘He gets the attention of Plod at a set of lights. I know he’s going to get a tug and would get nicked because of the toot in his system. I make off and Plod go after me. I had to create a diversion, as Trigger was the only one who knew where we were going and what the job was. I get away with my ruse and we then link up. Trigger fancies himself as Bruce Lee and decides to pull a knife on me; so I take him out.

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