here, DI Monahan, I want to speak to you in my office.”
“Yes, sir.”
Garret paused by the
door and looked at Harlan. “To think that you were once one of our most
promising young DIs, looking at you now it, well, it just makes me very sad.”
Despite himself, Harlan
blinked from Garrett’s gaze. A familiar surge of self-loathing burned through
him as he caught sight of his ragged reflection in the room’s one-way
observation window. There was nothing left of that young DI to see. There was
only a pitiable broken creature, with the desperate, bloodshot eyes of an animal
in pain rather than a human being. He fought a sudden wild urge to snatch up
the pistol and put a bullet in his reflection.
“Patronising bastard,”
muttered Jim, once they were alone. “You deserve gratitude, not pity.”
“Forget it.” Harlan forced
a smile. “Sounds like I’ve got you in trouble.”
Jim smiled crookedly in
return. “So what else is new?” He sighed. “Sometimes I think I’m getting too
old for this job.”
“Bullshit. You’re the
best copper this force has ever had.”
Jim gave Harlan a meaningful
look. “No I’m not. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”
As they made their way
past the booking area to reception, Jim said, “Garrett’s got his head so far up
his arse that he can’t see for the shit in his eyes, but he said one thing that
makes sense – get on with your life.” He stopped at the front entrance and
looked Harlan in the eyes. “Eve called me again. She’s broken up with her
boyfriend.”
An involuntary rush of
something close to elation swept through Harlan. “Why?” he asked, keeping his
voice carefully level, not daring to acknowledge, even to himself, the strength
of his feelings.
“Call her and find
out.”
They shook hands. “Call
her,” Jim shouted, as Harlan made his way to his car.
Harlan took out his
phone and found Eve’s number. His finger hovered over the dial button, his face
screwed up with indecision. One minute passed. Two minutes. Suddenly, as if
it’d burnt his hand, he threw the phone onto the passenger seat. Fatigue heavy
in his bones, he drove back to the flat and fell into a dreamless dead sleep.
When Harlan awoke, it
was afternoon of the next day, and hunger gnawed at the pit of his stomach. He
went to the kitchen and opened a cupboard at the front of which was the tumbler
of sleeping-pills. He stared at it a moment, then reached past it for a box of
cereal. He switched on the television and sat eating at the table. Eve smiled
at him from the photo. Catching himself drifting into a fantasy about her in
which they were talking and embracing, he reached to flip the photo face down.
The sound of Garrett’s voice drew his eyes to the television. He was stood
outside the police station, saying, “All I can tell you at this time is that
there have been significant new developments in the case.”
“Can you confirm the
rumours that these developments are related to an incident which took place at
St Mary’s church last night?” asked one of the gathered journalists.
“No I can’t. No more
questions right now. There’ll be a full press briefing later today. Thank you.”
Garrett turned and
headed into the station. The cameras cut back to the studio where, after
speculating about what the developments might be, the news reader announced
that nearly twenty thousand quid had been raised by the all-night vigil to add
to the ten thousand already on offer. Harlan’s thoughts began to slide away
from the TV back to Eve. He closed his eyes, feeling her fingers crawl up his
back, her mouth nuzzle his neck. As if she was right there in the room with
him, he heard her murmur, “I love you.”
I love you too ,
Harlan thought. But before the words could form on his lips, he shook himself
free of the fantasy. He jerked to his feet, grabbed his jacket and left the
flat. He needed to walk, to clear his head. As he pounded the streets, though,
scenes of Eve tumbled
“Yes, sir.”
Garret paused by the
door and looked at Harlan. “To think that you were once one of our most
promising young DIs, looking at you now it, well, it just makes me very sad.”
Despite himself, Harlan
blinked from Garrett’s gaze. A familiar surge of self-loathing burned through
him as he caught sight of his ragged reflection in the room’s one-way
observation window. There was nothing left of that young DI to see. There was
only a pitiable broken creature, with the desperate, bloodshot eyes of an animal
in pain rather than a human being. He fought a sudden wild urge to snatch up
the pistol and put a bullet in his reflection.
“Patronising bastard,”
muttered Jim, once they were alone. “You deserve gratitude, not pity.”
“Forget it.” Harlan forced
a smile. “Sounds like I’ve got you in trouble.”
Jim smiled crookedly in
return. “So what else is new?” He sighed. “Sometimes I think I’m getting too
old for this job.”
“Bullshit. You’re the
best copper this force has ever had.”
Jim gave Harlan a meaningful
look. “No I’m not. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”
As they made their way
past the booking area to reception, Jim said, “Garrett’s got his head so far up
his arse that he can’t see for the shit in his eyes, but he said one thing that
makes sense – get on with your life.” He stopped at the front entrance and
looked Harlan in the eyes. “Eve called me again. She’s broken up with her
boyfriend.”
An involuntary rush of
something close to elation swept through Harlan. “Why?” he asked, keeping his
voice carefully level, not daring to acknowledge, even to himself, the strength
of his feelings.
“Call her and find
out.”
They shook hands. “Call
her,” Jim shouted, as Harlan made his way to his car.
Harlan took out his
phone and found Eve’s number. His finger hovered over the dial button, his face
screwed up with indecision. One minute passed. Two minutes. Suddenly, as if
it’d burnt his hand, he threw the phone onto the passenger seat. Fatigue heavy
in his bones, he drove back to the flat and fell into a dreamless dead sleep.
When Harlan awoke, it
was afternoon of the next day, and hunger gnawed at the pit of his stomach. He
went to the kitchen and opened a cupboard at the front of which was the tumbler
of sleeping-pills. He stared at it a moment, then reached past it for a box of
cereal. He switched on the television and sat eating at the table. Eve smiled
at him from the photo. Catching himself drifting into a fantasy about her in
which they were talking and embracing, he reached to flip the photo face down.
The sound of Garrett’s voice drew his eyes to the television. He was stood
outside the police station, saying, “All I can tell you at this time is that
there have been significant new developments in the case.”
“Can you confirm the
rumours that these developments are related to an incident which took place at
St Mary’s church last night?” asked one of the gathered journalists.
“No I can’t. No more
questions right now. There’ll be a full press briefing later today. Thank you.”
Garrett turned and
headed into the station. The cameras cut back to the studio where, after
speculating about what the developments might be, the news reader announced
that nearly twenty thousand quid had been raised by the all-night vigil to add
to the ten thousand already on offer. Harlan’s thoughts began to slide away
from the TV back to Eve. He closed his eyes, feeling her fingers crawl up his
back, her mouth nuzzle his neck. As if she was right there in the room with
him, he heard her murmur, “I love you.”
I love you too ,
Harlan thought. But before the words could form on his lips, he shook himself
free of the fantasy. He jerked to his feet, grabbed his jacket and left the
flat. He needed to walk, to clear his head. As he pounded the streets, though,
scenes of Eve tumbled
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