Page 166 of In Too Deep
So Jake pocketed the dead phone and crossed over to another damaged section closer to the edge. Behind him, Roman muttered something beneath his breath.
Jake glanced back. “You what?”
“Nowt.”
“Didn’t sound like nowt.”
Roman took another drag of his cigarette. “You always have to report everything?”
Jake frowned. “When there’s a chance someone might get killed by a fucking roof, generally, aye.”
Roman gave a quiet laugh. “Course you do.”
Something in his tone made Jake look at him properly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just noticed you like sticking your nose in. See summat you don’t like, straight on the phone.”
Jake straightened. “You got a problem with me telling your dad his roof’s fucked?”
“Not the roof.”
There was a beat.
Jake stared at him. “Then what?”
Roman flicked ash onto the cracked felt. “Salvage yard.”
Jake flinched.
Roman watched him across the roof. No grin anymore. None of the usual piss-taking Jake had spent the last week tolerating over tea breaks and pub pints.
“You went poking around there,” Roman said. “Then ran straight to your detective. Next thing, police are crawling all over the fucking place.”
Jake rested his hands on his hips. “You been chewing on that since Friday?”
“Been wondering what you found.”
“Why?”
Roman shrugged. “Interested.”
“In a scrapyard?”
“In what you were doing there.”
Jake studied him. “None of your fucking business.”
Roman smiled faintly. “See? That’s what I mean. Everything’s your business, but no one else gets to ask questions.”
“Is there a point to this?”
“Aye.” Roman took another drag and let out the smoke. “You need to learn when to leave shit alone.”
Jake snorted. “That why you dragged me all the way up here? Give me life advice?”
Something changed in Roman’s face. Only slightly, but enough for the unease that had been prickling at Jake since they arrived to sharpen.
Roman looked down at the roof beneath Jake’s boots. “You really think my dad gives a fuck about that?”
