The Wolves of London Read Online Free PDF Page A

just flutter in my stomach, they cramped.
    The beardy guys on the next table burst out laughing again, and I glared at them. One had a Dalek on his T-shirt, which was stretched across his fat belly. He caught my eye, and instantly the mirth dropped out of his face and he glanced quickly away. I might be a psychology lecturer these days, but I apparently still have the kind of face that makes people uneasy.
    Instead of answering my question, Candice said, ‘Did I tell you that Dean was an art student?’
    ‘You have now.’
    ‘Right, well… one night about, I dunno… eighteen months ago, he went to this party in Shoreditch with some friends of his, and met this guy, Mitch, who told Dean that he was a businessman. Mitch talked posh, and had a really expensive suit, and a girlfriend who looked like a model, and Dean was pretty much in awe of him, even though Mitch was only two years older than him. In fact, Dean said that Mitch made him feel like a kid – not in the way he treated him or anything, but just because he was so confident and… sorted, you know?’
    I nodded and finished my wine. I could have done with another, but I didn’t want to interrupt Candice’s flow.
    ‘Anyway, in spite of this, Mitch was really friendly towards Dean, and asked him what he did, and seemed really interested in Dean’s art and everything. They talked for a bit and then Mitch told Dean he had some really great grass and he asked him if he wanted to go outside for a smoke.’
    Candice stopped there and gave a little shrug. She reached out almost shyly and ran a forefinger through the frosting of condensation on the side of her glass.
    ‘By the way, I don’t want you to think Dean’s a druggie or anything, Dad, cos he’s not. He just smokes a bit of pot now and again when he can afford it.’
    She glanced at me and I wafted a hand to show it was of no consequence. Where I grew up the use of recreational drugs was an everyday occurrence. Taking a couple of Es or some speed, or smoking a joint to chill out, was no different to having a few pints down the pub. That doesn’t mean I would have condoned Candice popping pills every day, but despite the recent scare stories about marijuana causing long-term mental health problems, I didn’t know anyone whose brain had become fucked up just from smoking the odd joint.
    Encouraged by my response, she said, ‘So Dean and Mitch went out on the balcony. And while they were there Mitch started asking Dean about his student loan, how he managed to live on a pittance, all that. At first Dean thought Mitch was taking the piss, but then Mitch said he knew a way that Dean could earn a bit of extra cash.’
    ‘Let me guess,’ I said. ‘He wanted Dean to sell drugs for him?’
    A look of shame crossed Candice’s face. ‘Only grass. There’s no way Dean would have touched the hard stuff. And it’s not like he was getting kids addicted or anything. He was only selling it to other students who would have got it somewhere else.’
    ‘So what went wrong?’
    Candice sighed. ‘At first Dean was only getting a few ounces a time off Mitch. Every week or two Dean would meet some contact of Mitch’s in a pub or a park or somewhere, and Dean would hand over the cash he’d made from selling the stuff, and would get ten per cent back for himself, and the contact would give Dean more weed to sell. Then the last time they met, two weeks ago, Mitch’s contact told Dean that Mitch was pleased with the way things were going, and that this time he was going to arrange for Dean to have a few months worth of grass all in one go, so that he and Dean wouldn’t have to meet up so often.’
    ‘I’m guessing he told him it was less risky that way?’
    Candice nodded.
    I sighed. ‘So how much did Mitch let him have?’
    ‘Fifty ounces. It was too much for Dean to carry home, so one of Mitch’s men drove it round to Dean’s flat.’
    I whistled. ‘That’s a hell of a lot of weed to take possession of. How