Scuddamore sat hunched on a chair, stuffing tobacco into the bowl of his pipe. “I’ve seen some bad people in my life, Sergeant, but those men scared me.” He used the tongs to lift an ember from the fire and applied it to the tobacco, puffing blue smoke into the duty room.
“Who scared you, Scuddamore? Start from the beginning.”
Scuddamore nodded and accepted the strong tea that Shaw passed to him. “Thank you, Shaw.”
“Wait,” Watters said and poured in some peat reek. “Drink that.”
Scuddamore drank half the cup. “Thank you, Sergeant. You may remember that two people approached me with offers to supply whisky to my shebeen. One was MacPhee, and the other didn’t give a name.”
“I remember,” Watters said.
“The second fellow came back with a couple of companions,” Scuddamore finished the whi
