“That Stokes was cuckooed?” Gerry suggested. “And that Samir just arrived at Hollyfield Lane on Sunday evening, for the first time, to sell drugs. That something went wrong.”

“A replacement cuckoo, then?” said Banks.

“I think so,” Gerry said. “The other boy had been gone about two or three weeks, according to Margery Cunningham. Though she did say her sense of time might be a bit off. It was a while, anyway. It probably took them that long to get everything organized and set up again.”

“OK,” said Banks. “So it was all change in the county line. Someone took it over.”

“The Albanians?” suggested Annie. “Along with Blaydon and the Kerrigans?”

“Possibly. But was it a hostile takeover, or what? What happened to the other boy, the fair-haired one?”

“Well,” Annie replied, “both Howard Stokes and Samir are dead. Even if Stokes did die of a genuine heroin overdose, it still all points toward a drug war on some level. And I’d say that it is pretty hostile.”

“So whoever got displaced might have been taking revenge by murdering Samir?”

“Maybe,” said Annie.

“And it could even have been the fair-haired lad who did it?”

“Again,” said Annie, “I don’t think that’s beyond the bounds of possibility. Either him or his controller down in Leeds probably came up and did it. Remember, we have a bus driver who saw Samir get off a bus from Leeds, and they would have been in a position to know where he was going.”

“Where does Blaydon fit in?” Banks asked.

“Blaydon doesn’t live in Leeds,” said Annie, “and he has a respectable veneer. I still can’t really see him running a county line drug operation.”

“Me, neither,” said Banks. “But I can see him being somehow involved, doing a favor for someone who did, someone he wants to impress, who may be in overall charge of a number of county lines.”

“The Albanians again?”

“Very likely. Leka Gashi and his pals. And Blaydon was either trying to ingratiate himself, or he owed them one. We already know he has a history with Gashi going back to Corfu ten years ago, and their possible collusion in the murder of Blaydon’s business partner at the time, Norman Peel. I think we’d better have another chat with Mr. Blaydon soon.” Banks glanced over at Vic Manson, who seemed as if he had something to add. “Vic, you found Samir’s fingerprints in the house, didn’t you?”

Manson nodded. “Others, too. It’s kept us busy for quite a while. Stokes, naturally, and several unidentified sets.”

“Any matches so far?”

“A couple. I put them through IDENT1. One, so far, is a match with prints from the break-in at The Crown and Anchor last month, and another set are a match for a lad on file we arrested for dealing E around the college toward the end of last year.”

“Which would seem to point toward the Stokes house being used as a county lines distribution center,” Banks said. “Good work, Vic. You, too, Jazz.”