The City Trap (26 page)

‘So, man, you haven’t made it to the Canary Isles yet?’

‘Haven’t been much further than the end of my road.’

‘You should go, man.’

‘I’m working up to it, but, you know, I’ve just felt too weary, too flattened out to even lift a finger.’

‘Well, I did say, didn’t I, man, that job and you being out on your own, there’s no clocking off like with me. Your sort of position, it goes through the front door, through
you and on, deep. You get eaten up, burnt out.’

‘Guess I should go and seek Pearl, long shot that it is.’

‘Yeh. You won’t be up to your necks in shit this time.’

‘And what a lot of shit we had. I mean, Errol, now, it’s hard to see what the fuss was about.’

‘What you mean?’

‘Sex.’

‘Sex? It’s what you do when you aren’t working. Sometimes . . . if you’re lucky.’

‘Yeh, but going to those lengths for a bit of kinkiness, doing murder for Christ’s sake!’

‘I guess it’s all about the buzz of it. Like drugs, man, you always need to go further to get the same fix. For some screwballs, murder must be the ultimate.’

‘Maybe that’s what was with Scobie, but Wainwright?’

‘Power, I guess. When you’re right up there in the clouds, you don’t have to face the reality of the decisions you take. A bit of lechery goes wrong – what’s he
care what Scobie did?’

‘He shouldn’t have needed to get anything done. Getting caught with a whore, who cares?’ Des shivered inside. Somehow, all the rationalizing didn’t sound convincing.

‘You and me don’t give two fucks, but this country, man, it still got a tight-arsed establishment that demands respect. They might screw donkeys in their spare time, but it just
ain’t acceptable that anybody should know.’

Des eased back in his seat and downed the last of his whisky. The booze was working. About time. He could feel it sizzle in his veins, and see it too in Errol, in that sudden flush on his
face.

‘Yeh, well I reckon it’s definitely Las Palmas for me then.’

‘Des.’ Errol looked him squarely in the eyes. ‘Go there.’