Silent As The Grave. Paul Gitsham

here, move along’.”

      He went quiet. “But I was wrong. About four o’clock in the afternoon the investigator in charge, some DCI Lowry, came back in, brandishing a fistful of photographs like a trophy. They’d found a shoebox hidden in the loft, with about eight grand in used notes all rolled up neatly in elastic bands, just like Obsanjo claimed.

      “Forensics found traces of drugs on the notes above the usual background levels and Obsanjo’s thumbprint on one of the envelopes. They also found a Pay-As-You-Go SIM card in my desk at work that matched the number Obsanjo claimed had been used to call him.”

      The man went silent, waiting.

      Warren thought hard. What the man was saying was incredible; the evidence as he’d laid it out was compelling and he could see why Professional Standards had arrested and charged him. The man in front of him was desperate, of that there was no denying and there was no reason to accept what he was saying as the truth. Except that the evidence he had given Warren so far had been largely true. And what did he have to gain by lying? The chances that Warren would find evidence to exonerate him were slim—even more so if he wasn’t actually innocent.

      “So why do you think Delmarno is behind this?”

      Sheehy sighed. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. Vinny Delmarno made it clear that he wanted revenge, that he wanted those responsible for sending him to prison to suffer. This happened barely six months after he was released. Then in December, Anton Liebig is killed in a supposed car accident and finally Reggie Williamson is stabbed to death on Middlesbury Common. It’s too much of a coincidence.”

      It wasn’t enough. Warren knew, but he couldn’t dismiss it. “So who was feeding the information to Obsanjo? You said that you thought it was authentic, that somebody had been passing material on.”

      Sheehy shrugged. “I don’t know. You know how big these sorts of operations are. Middlesbury was taking point because of our local knowledge and connections but there was a huge team behind this down at Welwyn. It could have been any one of them. Vinny Delmarno’s got deep pockets; he could definitely afford to pay somebody.”

      Warren chewed his lip, thinking hard. The idea that there were other corrupt officers beyond Sheehy—maybe even officers he knew and worked with—left a sour taste in his mouth. “What about Tony?”

      Sheehy grimaced. “What they did to him was spite, pure and simple. There was no reason to suspect him, other than his friendship with me. They humiliated him, dragging him into this. Poor bloke didn’t even know what it was about.”

      “You know that he’s been summonsed?”

      Sheehy nodded and sighed. “I’m innocent, but I’m a detective—I can put myself in their shoes. I can see why they arrested me and why they are confident of a conviction. But there’s no need to drag Tony into this. What’s he going to say? That I sometimes used my mobile phone or that I wasn’t always available?