Things were going well between them for a while.
The bolt cutters lay below a steel box, it too had a lock on it. The padlock was under the hasp and Jeff lifted the lid, a 9mm self-loading pistol lay encased in foam rubber. It was Army issue. He picked up the cutters and walked over to Joe. ‘Anything you want to tell me about the box under the seat?’
‘Nope.’
‘It’s not locked.’
‘And you looked?’
‘The policeman in me, I’m curious.’
‘That’s what got the cat killed.’ Joe said. He had not looked at Jeff and
worked the cutters on the chain.
‘Got a licence for it.’
‘Not only that, but I am cleared to use it in any situation that demands
it.’
‘Your old employer?’
‘We can never be free of them, it’s better if you don’t know.’
‘I’m a copper too, Joe.’
‘Not anymore,’ He turned and glared into Jeff’s eyes. ‘You don’t want to
know Jeff. Just leave it okay. I don’t want to get into it with you, Tilly, or
anyone.’ He threw the bolt–cutters at Jeff’s feet and took him by the
shoulders. ‘Let it go. The last thing I want to do is make life harder for you,
and Tilly, and Emily. Don’t get any of your copper mates poking into it okay.
It will only bring a shitload of trouble to all of us.’
‘Whoa, I’m on your side Joe, I get the message loud and clear.’
‘Good.’
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