Mum would like that.
But first:
Andrew settled his bum against the patio table, grinning as he tapped away at his phone – slipping into DS Davis’s DMs on a secure messaging app, because he wasn’t an idiot.
YOU DON’T KNOW WHO I AM BUT I KNOW WHAT YOU DID
SEND.
Perfect.
Andrew took a sip of Red Bull – as if he wasn’t fizzing enough already – and settled back to wait.
Not for long though, because the reply came dinging right back.
UNKNOWN:
You’ve got the wrong number.
Oh really?
His thumbs flew across the screen.
NATASHA AGAPOVA SAYS DIFFERENT
I’VE GOT YOU ON VIDEO!!!
WANT PROOF???
Didn’t take more than a couple of seconds to bring up a still of DS Davis dragging Natasha out to the kerb, with a lovely view of the bastard’s face.
SEND.
And off it went, scurrying through the aether, like a bubonic rat. Bringing the plague to DS Davis’s life.
This time the reply took alotlonger.
Andrew saved the contact into his phone, giving it an inconspicuous name to avoid suspicion.
Ding.
MURDERINGBASTARD:
What do you want?
There we go.
THOUSAND QUID TO START WITH
IN CASH!!!
THEN WE’LL SEE
SEND.
Ding.
MURDERINGBASTARD: