Die Happy by J. M. Gregson

fear and vulnerability to another human being. ‘I shouldn’t have shredded it, should I?’
    â€˜Probably not. But it’s no use our worrying about that now.’
    Marjorie found the simple fact that she’d said ‘us’ rather than ‘you’ massively comforting. ‘I expect I was just trying to convince myself that it was a trivial thing, not something serious. What do you think I should do now?’
    Christine frowned. ‘I think we’ve got to let the police know about it. It’s probably just a trivial, silly prank, as you thought it was when you shredded the letter, but it should be treated as serious until we know the facts.’
    She expected an argument. It was evidence of how shaken her visitor was that she said only, ‘I don’t think you should bother your husband with this. It’s way below his level. And it would expose me to him as a silly woman, who can’t even be sensible enough to retain the evidence.’
    â€˜John isn’t stupid. What he’d see is a competent woman suddenly exposed to an anonymous and alarming threat to her life, to a level of malice she’s never had to contend with before. That’s a frightening situation for anyone.’
    â€˜All the same, I wouldn’t want to be seen to be receiving special treatment. If you think this has to be reported, I’d prefer to go through the proper channels, in that phrase beloved of Civil Service mandarins. I think I should just go into the police station at Oldford and tell them what’s happened. If that means I deal with PC Plod, then so be it.’
    â€˜I’m no expert on police procedures, but I think this would be a CID matter. I take your point that you don’t want special treatment. However, I think you should report it as you suggest without further delay.’
    Christine went out to the car with Marjorie. The daffodils were over, and she picked a few dead flower heads off them as her friend reversed out of the drive. Perhaps she hoped the resumption of dull everyday tasks could convince her departing visitor that the abnormal was really quite normal. She decided that she would have a quiet word with John about this tonight, despite Marjorie’s understandable reservations.
    She did not know that her decision would be overtaken by other events.
    â€˜I’ve got the stuff you wanted.’ Sam Hilton was surprised how breathy and dramatic he sounded, when he had meant to be businesslike and impersonal. You needed to be more relaxed and in control, when you were selling.
    â€˜I told you not to ring me at work.’
    The voice was younger and more nervous on the phone than the man he remembered. That gave Sam confidence. ‘You also told me not to ring you at home. I had to let you know somehow that the goods had arrived.’
    â€˜You could have sent a message to my computer at home. I gave you the e-mail address.’
    â€˜I don’t put things in writing. Rule of the game, Paul.’
    â€˜All right. I’ll meet you at the usual spot. The place where I ordered the stuff. After work tonight. Six fifteen.’
    You didn’t let the punters dictate the terms. ‘No. The back room at The White Hart. And make it nine thirty. I don’t care to operate in daylight.’
    â€˜All right. And – and I might be able to take more coke, next time.’
    â€˜Got friends who want the best, have you?’ Sam smiled at the phone, taking his time, relishing the feeling of power this gave him. ‘Good idea to get a little circle organized. Put ten per cent on my price, you can end up getting your own stuff for nothing.’ This was the way you built up a dealer network and increased your sales, but he wasn’t going to tell the young solicitor that. Let him get in deeper, let him do your work for you. ‘I can supply all you need, and you know the quality’s right.’
    â€˜Yes. And if I can increase my