“No!”
“… f**k the father while the kids are snorting behind the bike-shed. Is that the plan?”
“I don’t sell drugs.”
“So that stash we found was all for personal use, was it? Single tablets? Individual zip-bags. What about the money we found? That’s a lot to keep at home.”
“It’s not mine. I only keep a bit of cash in my purse. Someone planted it.”
Cappelli nods. Yeah… Right…
Bech watches and listens. The lawyer sits beside her, arms folded, face a blank as he listens, occasionally interjecting if Cappelli gets too pushy.
Who’s the suit?
The lawyer tries to cover it, poker-faced, but he’s pissed about something…
Not happy about being here?
The w***e is denying everything of course. It doesn’t matter. The evidence will do the job for him.
He eyes the lawyer again. They all look muc
