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Authors: Mark Billingham
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lifted it again, trying and failing to ease a little of the tension in his back and shoulders.
It wasn’t difficult to work out what was going on, was it? There was no great mystery about why certain parts that
should
be working
weren’t
, no need for cuddles or counselling. He had a cow of an ex-wife and a bossy twat of a brother and both of them wound him
up to the point where he felt like something was going to snap.
End of story.
‘You just need to relax,’ Angie kept saying.
Oh … you
reckon?
He did his best to keep calm and to pretend that
he
didn’t think it mattered either. Truth was though, he knew it was only a matter of time before she started dropping hints
about ‘seeing’ someone. Made some joke about buying tablets off the internet. The sad, simple, sodding truth was, the tension
was everywhere except his cock, and the irony was that not being able to do the business in the bedroom was making him even
angrier.
A vicious cycle, or circle, whatever the fuck it was.
He realised that the water had stopped running upstairs. He listened, heard Angie’s footsteps as she walked from the bathroom
to the bedroom. He should probably go up himself and change into a clean shirt or something.
Make an effort.
Barry took one last look at the photograph as he carefully laid the placemat back in position. Five people staring straight
at the camera. And him.
He wouldn’t say anything, but he couldn’t help wondering if this was really the best photo that Angie could find. If there
was not one when, at the crucial moment, he had at least been looking the same way as everyone else. His eyes where they should
be, on the woman with the camera, and not fixed on something two feet to the left of her.
One of the pictures only half coloured in.
NINE
Detective Jeffrey Gardner awoke thinking about Patti Lee and Amber-Marie Wilson. He lay staring at the ceiling for a few minutes,
until the urge to visit the bathroom proved too strong, then he tried to slip out of bed without waking his wife.
The clock said 05.17.
His wife asked him if everything was all right and he said ‘shush’ and told her to go back to sleep. When she threw back the
covers, he told her there was no need for her to get up as well.
‘I’m awake now anyway,’ Michelle Gardner said.
He was still thinking about Patti Lee and Amber-Marie over breakfast, while his five-year-old daughter was busy decorating
the kitchen floor with Froot Loops. While his wife cooked eggs and tried to talk to him about something they were supposed
to be doing that coming weekend. She could see that he wasn’t really listening and called him on it. He apologised, and when
he told her what was on his mind, Michelle nodded, and said, ‘I think that woman needs to go home.’
Gardner knew his wife was right. He’d heard the same thing every day for a couple of weeks now. Almost every one of his colleagues
on the Crimes Against Persons Unit thought it was crazy that the girl’smother was still around, but there were few volunteers to have that awkward conversation and plenty of reasons people could
think of not to bother.
‘
It’s not like she’s hurting anybody, is it?
’
‘
Her choice, right?
’
‘
What’s that place cost anyway, like fifty bucks a night …?
’
He thought about it on the way to drop his little girl off at school. Then, once he was alone in the car, he began to think
specifically about what he might say; trying certain phrases out loud as he drove south through the city towards Sarasota
Police Department Headquarters.
‘You need to be at home, Patti. You need to be around the people that care about you.’
Gardner was not convinced that Patti Lee Wilson would respond to that kind of cheesy crap, to
any
kind of crap now he thought about it, but it was the best he could come up with. He talked it through with a couple of the
other detectives during the morning. He asked what his sergeant thought,
It wasn’t difficult to work out what was going on, was it? There was no great mystery about why certain parts that
should
be working
weren’t
, no need for cuddles or counselling. He had a cow of an ex-wife and a bossy twat of a brother and both of them wound him
up to the point where he felt like something was going to snap.
End of story.
‘You just need to relax,’ Angie kept saying.
Oh … you
reckon?
He did his best to keep calm and to pretend that
he
didn’t think it mattered either. Truth was though, he knew it was only a matter of time before she started dropping hints
about ‘seeing’ someone. Made some joke about buying tablets off the internet. The sad, simple, sodding truth was, the tension
was everywhere except his cock, and the irony was that not being able to do the business in the bedroom was making him even
angrier.
A vicious cycle, or circle, whatever the fuck it was.
He realised that the water had stopped running upstairs. He listened, heard Angie’s footsteps as she walked from the bathroom
to the bedroom. He should probably go up himself and change into a clean shirt or something.
Make an effort.
Barry took one last look at the photograph as he carefully laid the placemat back in position. Five people staring straight
at the camera. And him.
He wouldn’t say anything, but he couldn’t help wondering if this was really the best photo that Angie could find. If there
was not one when, at the crucial moment, he had at least been looking the same way as everyone else. His eyes where they should
be, on the woman with the camera, and not fixed on something two feet to the left of her.
One of the pictures only half coloured in.
NINE
Detective Jeffrey Gardner awoke thinking about Patti Lee and Amber-Marie Wilson. He lay staring at the ceiling for a few minutes,
until the urge to visit the bathroom proved too strong, then he tried to slip out of bed without waking his wife.
The clock said 05.17.
His wife asked him if everything was all right and he said ‘shush’ and told her to go back to sleep. When she threw back the
covers, he told her there was no need for her to get up as well.
‘I’m awake now anyway,’ Michelle Gardner said.
He was still thinking about Patti Lee and Amber-Marie over breakfast, while his five-year-old daughter was busy decorating
the kitchen floor with Froot Loops. While his wife cooked eggs and tried to talk to him about something they were supposed
to be doing that coming weekend. She could see that he wasn’t really listening and called him on it. He apologised, and when
he told her what was on his mind, Michelle nodded, and said, ‘I think that woman needs to go home.’
Gardner knew his wife was right. He’d heard the same thing every day for a couple of weeks now. Almost every one of his colleagues
on the Crimes Against Persons Unit thought it was crazy that the girl’smother was still around, but there were few volunteers to have that awkward conversation and plenty of reasons people could
think of not to bother.
‘
It’s not like she’s hurting anybody, is it?
’
‘
Her choice, right?
’
‘
What’s that place cost anyway, like fifty bucks a night …?
’
He thought about it on the way to drop his little girl off at school. Then, once he was alone in the car, he began to think
specifically about what he might say; trying certain phrases out loud as he drove south through the city towards Sarasota
Police Department Headquarters.
‘You need to be at home, Patti. You need to be around the people that care about you.’
Gardner was not convinced that Patti Lee Wilson would respond to that kind of cheesy crap, to
any
kind of crap now he thought about it, but it was the best he could come up with. He talked it through with a couple of the
other detectives during the morning. He asked what his sergeant thought,
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