‘Okay, Phil, leave it with me. I’ll pay him a visit.’
‘Gov, do you think he may have torched it, revenge and all?’
‘No, Phil, it’s not his style, but, Phil, leave Regan out of this. He’s … Let’s just say he’s helping us with our inquiries.’
Lowry wiped the tomato sauce from around his mouth and let out a heavy sigh. Releasing Mike Regan and his firm early in return for cleaning the streets of the Flakka drug was questionable at every turn and not a decision he’d agreed with at the time. As far as he was aware, the firm had found the gang leader, the man they referred to as the Governor, and that was the end of it. The team were told not to ask questions, and, sure as hell, he wanted the least bit of involvement as possible. His superior, the Police Commissioner Conrad Stoneham, was on leave, and it was a good job too since it wasn’t looking good for him at the moment. For Stoneham’s sister, the MP, had been arrested for failing to stop at an accident, and, right now, with the Commissioner’s face plastered across every newspaper, he was right to take time off. Having Regan brought in for questioning was something he really didn’t relish, but it might have to be done. He would put it off though until Stoneham returned. The Commissioner could take the stick if Regan had killed his ex-wife. He himself wanted nothing to do with it.
‘Damn you, Stoneham. You should’ve let sleeping dogs lie,’ he mumbled to himself.
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