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Authors: Fernando Trujillo Sanz
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you was correct. The court was open to the public and everything that was said there too. I didn't have to rummage in your rubbish bin."
"It wasn't necessary," he accused her. "The defence lawyer had already taken care of that."
They always talked about the same case. And as far as Aidan was concerned, there'd been no need for her to print the lawyer's damaging character profile of him in the newspaper. She gave the public all the details along with the final punch in the face he'd given the lawyer outside the court.
It hadn't been a pleasant way to meet each other. It had been a bad time for Aidan, and seeing the drug dealer walk scot free didn't help either. It was better not to talk about it. Only Lance could bring it up without him going into a rage.
Carol hadn't chosen a good moment to get an interview. She was a young journalist full of talent and ambition, and Aidan was the news of the moment. On one occasion she'd followed him an entire morning looking for his version of what had happened. Lance was sure that if she'd been a man she would have gone to work the next day with a black eye and a broken jaw. Lance saved her that day, pulling her away from Aidan before she found out the hard way the type of man she had been harassing.
Even after that, she kept on seeking interviews with Aidan, and the strange thing was that she was usually successful. Lance had nearly fallen off his chair a month later when he found out the two of them were going to have lunch together. He had to control the temptation to spy on them and listen to what they had to say. He even thought about fixing a microphone on one of them. In the end he just made do with Aidan's version of what had taken place during that lunch. And that consisted of more than a fair share of grumbling and gave Lance the impression that it had been more argument than interview.
Lance suspected that, despite being seventeen years younger than him, Carol was one of the few women in the last few years to kindle Aidan's dormant sex drive. Although nothing had happened between them she was the first woman to have gone out with his partner more than three times since his wife's death. Lance was no expert in affairs of the heart, but he suspected Carol had more on her mind than just interviews. As far as Lance knew, she wasn't in a relationship with anyone else.
"I only reported what they said in the court," Carol said, defending herself. "And I've already apologized for that. Can't we just shelve it this time?"
"You concentrated on the juicy bits. You didn't mention anything about my work in tracking that criminal down. But to sell more papers you wrote about my drinking problem and my wife's death. It was worth more to you to ruin my reputation as a human being than praise my work as a policeman. Don't forget that I was the one responsible for bringing one of the major cartels in the city to justice."
"I wrote that as well," Carol screamed, twitching. She was losing her composure, fast. "I'm impartial. It's my work."
"You dedicated three lines to the detention and three paragraphs to my medical and psychiatric reports," he snapped.
"Damn it, Aidan. I've already explained it to you," she said, visibly upset. "I have bosses at the newspaper, you know. I'm not the owner of what they publish. They edit my articles. And whether you like it or not, everybody was interested in your medical report. There aren't too many who've survived what you have, Aidan. Christ, there's no one. You broke your back in the accident and you lost your wife. You could have been paralysed. But you came out of it all unscathed."
"That's my business," Aidan roared, "And no one else's."
"That's enough. More than enough," Lance said, stepping between them and forcing them apart. "You know, I don't understand you two. Why don't you work your differences out in bed? That looks like what both of you want."
"Shut up, Lance!" Aidan screamed. "This argument's finished. I've got work to do. You can
"It wasn't necessary," he accused her. "The defence lawyer had already taken care of that."
They always talked about the same case. And as far as Aidan was concerned, there'd been no need for her to print the lawyer's damaging character profile of him in the newspaper. She gave the public all the details along with the final punch in the face he'd given the lawyer outside the court.
It hadn't been a pleasant way to meet each other. It had been a bad time for Aidan, and seeing the drug dealer walk scot free didn't help either. It was better not to talk about it. Only Lance could bring it up without him going into a rage.
Carol hadn't chosen a good moment to get an interview. She was a young journalist full of talent and ambition, and Aidan was the news of the moment. On one occasion she'd followed him an entire morning looking for his version of what had happened. Lance was sure that if she'd been a man she would have gone to work the next day with a black eye and a broken jaw. Lance saved her that day, pulling her away from Aidan before she found out the hard way the type of man she had been harassing.
Even after that, she kept on seeking interviews with Aidan, and the strange thing was that she was usually successful. Lance had nearly fallen off his chair a month later when he found out the two of them were going to have lunch together. He had to control the temptation to spy on them and listen to what they had to say. He even thought about fixing a microphone on one of them. In the end he just made do with Aidan's version of what had taken place during that lunch. And that consisted of more than a fair share of grumbling and gave Lance the impression that it had been more argument than interview.
Lance suspected that, despite being seventeen years younger than him, Carol was one of the few women in the last few years to kindle Aidan's dormant sex drive. Although nothing had happened between them she was the first woman to have gone out with his partner more than three times since his wife's death. Lance was no expert in affairs of the heart, but he suspected Carol had more on her mind than just interviews. As far as Lance knew, she wasn't in a relationship with anyone else.
"I only reported what they said in the court," Carol said, defending herself. "And I've already apologized for that. Can't we just shelve it this time?"
"You concentrated on the juicy bits. You didn't mention anything about my work in tracking that criminal down. But to sell more papers you wrote about my drinking problem and my wife's death. It was worth more to you to ruin my reputation as a human being than praise my work as a policeman. Don't forget that I was the one responsible for bringing one of the major cartels in the city to justice."
"I wrote that as well," Carol screamed, twitching. She was losing her composure, fast. "I'm impartial. It's my work."
"You dedicated three lines to the detention and three paragraphs to my medical and psychiatric reports," he snapped.
"Damn it, Aidan. I've already explained it to you," she said, visibly upset. "I have bosses at the newspaper, you know. I'm not the owner of what they publish. They edit my articles. And whether you like it or not, everybody was interested in your medical report. There aren't too many who've survived what you have, Aidan. Christ, there's no one. You broke your back in the accident and you lost your wife. You could have been paralysed. But you came out of it all unscathed."
"That's my business," Aidan roared, "And no one else's."
"That's enough. More than enough," Lance said, stepping between them and forcing them apart. "You know, I don't understand you two. Why don't you work your differences out in bed? That looks like what both of you want."
"Shut up, Lance!" Aidan screamed. "This argument's finished. I've got work to do. You can
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