Knocked over a few empty stout tins as I reached for the phone, said, ‘Hello.’ ‘Gus, that you?’ I recognised the hardy voice at once. ‘Mr Bacon … yeah, it’s me.’ ‘Good, good … How you keeping?’ Was this a fucking social call … this early? ‘What?’ ‘Aye, small chat, eh, screw that. Just calling to let you know I looked out that stuff you were after.’ ‘The files?’ ‘Oh, aye … quite a few. Some good reading in there as well.’ ‘There is?’ ‘Bastardin’ sure there is. That laddie was up to his neck in some muck!’ ‘Oh, really …’ Rasher’s voice arked up: ‘Fucking wee scumbag, so he was … Looking at this load on my desk, I’d say he wasn’t far off a stretch at Her Majesty’s displeasure. Total wee toley so he was.’ ‘Sounds like interesting stuff.’ ‘You’re no’ kidding, but that’s not the half of it.’ ‘It’s not?’ ‘Not by a long stretch. Turned up something that I think you might be interested in having a wee look at.’ ‘From the files?’ A spark of enthusiasm: ‘Aye, from the files … and let me tell you, Dury, you get a link to this wee beauty and there’s a page-one splash with your name on it!’ He had my interest.
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