to his muscular body like a life raft as he rode
the waves of their passion. She remembered his soft
eyes wet with emotion as he shuddered to a climax,
taking her with him. She remembered the absolute
nakedness of his emotions as he held on too long
afterwards, kissing her salty shoulder and whispering
her name like a prayer.
And she remembered the love she felt for him.
She looked over at the curtained window and felt
tears running down her cheeks again.
Caroline Akunin looked up at her. Misunderstanding
her tears. 'I'm sorry. I have to ask.'
'That's okay, Caroline. It was three weeks ago.'
Caroline nodded. 'I am going to take some swabs,
is that okay?'
Kate nodded. Her body was already feeling like it
was something apart from her once more. Distancing
herself from her feelings, something she had learned
at a young age. Something she had lived with for
years until Delaney had made her feel connected with
her body again. Now she felt violated and ashamed
and wretched. But most of all, she felt angry.
A buzzing sound then a sharp ring. Kate looked
across at her mobile phone that was vibrating on Jane
Harrington's desk. 'You better pass that to me,
Caroline. I told the office to call me only if it was
really urgent.'
Delaney looked at the bloodshot eyes of Martin
Quigley. Eyes that darted nervously back and forth.
Eyes that squirmed under his scrutiny with pain and
with fear. His right arm was suspended in a sling and
covered with plaster. His fingers, that were visible,
flexed nervously. His lower jaw was covered with
wire and metal and held immobile. He grunted
through the metal but quite clearly couldn't speak.
He was a large man, somewhere in his forties. His
nose had been broken many times in the past, and the
home-made tattoos on his neck would quickly dispel
any lingering suspicions that this man was employed
in white-collar work.
Delaney didn't know the man, but he knew the
type. Bruisers who communicated with their
knuckles. Strong-arm men for cleverer criminals. A
foot soldier, cannon fodder, a gorilla just like Kevin
Norrell. He moved around the side of the bed, closer
to him. 'You attacked Kevin Norrell, and I want to
know why.' The man grunted again, an animal in
pain. Delaney couldn't make out what he was saying.
Sally Cartwright took out a pad and a pen and held
it out to Quigley's good hand. He flicked his broken-veined
eyeballs to the left, where she stood, then back
at Delaney and grunted again, but made no move to
take the pen or notebook.
Delaney smiled at him. 'You taking what our
American cousins would call the fifth, Quigley?'
Quigley glared at him with defiance in his eyes and
didn't move.
Delaney glanced over at Sally. 'Give him the pen,
Sally.'
Sally put the pen in his left hand but he made no
move to hold it. Delaney reached over, put his own
hand over Quigley's broken one and pulled it.
Quigley grunted, loudly, his face red with pain and
tears starting in his eyes. Delaney released his grip.
'He'll take the pen now.'
This time Quigley held the pen. Sally put her
notebook under it so that he could write.
'Why'd you attack him, Quigley?'
Quigley wrote one word. The scrawl was nearly
undecipherable but Sally could just make it out. 'He's
written "Nonce", sir.'
Delaney looked at Quigley. 'You saying you
attacked Norrell because he was a paedophile?'
Quigley grunted an affirmative.
'Who put you up to it?'
Quigley grunted again and wrote some more. Sally
read it out again. 'He says no one.'
'Just doing your civic duty, were you?'
Quigley grunted again, trying to keep his head as
still as possible. Sally looked over at her boss. 'Do
you believe him?'
'I don't know.' Delaney smiled at her then tugged
on Quigley's hand again. Quigley's breath hissed
through the metal mask of his teeth and he gurgled in
pain. Delaney let go of his hand. 'You telling me the
truth, Martin?'
Quigley's eyes pleaded with Delaney, his gurgling
the waves of their passion. She remembered his soft
eyes wet with emotion as he shuddered to a climax,
taking her with him. She remembered the absolute
nakedness of his emotions as he held on too long
afterwards, kissing her salty shoulder and whispering
her name like a prayer.
And she remembered the love she felt for him.
She looked over at the curtained window and felt
tears running down her cheeks again.
Caroline Akunin looked up at her. Misunderstanding
her tears. 'I'm sorry. I have to ask.'
'That's okay, Caroline. It was three weeks ago.'
Caroline nodded. 'I am going to take some swabs,
is that okay?'
Kate nodded. Her body was already feeling like it
was something apart from her once more. Distancing
herself from her feelings, something she had learned
at a young age. Something she had lived with for
years until Delaney had made her feel connected with
her body again. Now she felt violated and ashamed
and wretched. But most of all, she felt angry.
A buzzing sound then a sharp ring. Kate looked
across at her mobile phone that was vibrating on Jane
Harrington's desk. 'You better pass that to me,
Caroline. I told the office to call me only if it was
really urgent.'
Delaney looked at the bloodshot eyes of Martin
Quigley. Eyes that darted nervously back and forth.
Eyes that squirmed under his scrutiny with pain and
with fear. His right arm was suspended in a sling and
covered with plaster. His fingers, that were visible,
flexed nervously. His lower jaw was covered with
wire and metal and held immobile. He grunted
through the metal but quite clearly couldn't speak.
He was a large man, somewhere in his forties. His
nose had been broken many times in the past, and the
home-made tattoos on his neck would quickly dispel
any lingering suspicions that this man was employed
in white-collar work.
Delaney didn't know the man, but he knew the
type. Bruisers who communicated with their
knuckles. Strong-arm men for cleverer criminals. A
foot soldier, cannon fodder, a gorilla just like Kevin
Norrell. He moved around the side of the bed, closer
to him. 'You attacked Kevin Norrell, and I want to
know why.' The man grunted again, an animal in
pain. Delaney couldn't make out what he was saying.
Sally Cartwright took out a pad and a pen and held
it out to Quigley's good hand. He flicked his broken-veined
eyeballs to the left, where she stood, then back
at Delaney and grunted again, but made no move to
take the pen or notebook.
Delaney smiled at him. 'You taking what our
American cousins would call the fifth, Quigley?'
Quigley glared at him with defiance in his eyes and
didn't move.
Delaney glanced over at Sally. 'Give him the pen,
Sally.'
Sally put the pen in his left hand but he made no
move to hold it. Delaney reached over, put his own
hand over Quigley's broken one and pulled it.
Quigley grunted, loudly, his face red with pain and
tears starting in his eyes. Delaney released his grip.
'He'll take the pen now.'
This time Quigley held the pen. Sally put her
notebook under it so that he could write.
'Why'd you attack him, Quigley?'
Quigley wrote one word. The scrawl was nearly
undecipherable but Sally could just make it out. 'He's
written "Nonce", sir.'
Delaney looked at Quigley. 'You saying you
attacked Norrell because he was a paedophile?'
Quigley grunted an affirmative.
'Who put you up to it?'
Quigley grunted again and wrote some more. Sally
read it out again. 'He says no one.'
'Just doing your civic duty, were you?'
Quigley grunted again, trying to keep his head as
still as possible. Sally looked over at her boss. 'Do
you believe him?'
'I don't know.' Delaney smiled at her then tugged
on Quigley's hand again. Quigley's breath hissed
through the metal mask of his teeth and he gurgled in
pain. Delaney let go of his hand. 'You telling me the
truth, Martin?'
Quigley's eyes pleaded with Delaney, his gurgling
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