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.Stand just inside.Taylor doesn't turn.Outside the door I can hear the office start to come back to life.They'll remember this.The last day that wanker Hutton came to work.'What the fuck were you doing, Sergeant?'I don't answer.He doesn't turn.I don't think I've ever seen Taylor this pissed off.This enraged.This is my level of rage, although I get angry at all that crap that's in my head, and at old people in the supermarket and at old people driving too slowly.'You were seen, outside the fucking station, two nights ago, talking to Mrs Stewart.You were seen getting into her fucking car.'He can barely restrain himself.He's trying.I can feel his rage.I know it.The anger where you want to grab something and kick fuck out of it.Hit it and hit it and keep on hitting it.And I'm the it.'Sergeant!''Yes.''You slept with her?''Yes.''Fucking hell.'He turns.His face is pale.Blanched with anger and betrayal.'Is there anyone, I mean, fucking anyone on this entire fucking planet, that you haven't slept with?'Nothing to say.She was going to be the last one.She was.Maybe she will be anyway, despite being dead with ten spikes in her head.That probably won't mean anything to him.Would probably sound pretty weak.Although I'd mean it.'What the fuck were you thinking, Sergeant? And I don't want any of your glib, defensive crap.What were you thinking? You'd spoken to her as part of an on-going investigation.What?'Exhale a slow breath.The only thing to do is tell the truth.That's all there is.It's not a defence, but it's all there is.'She was the one,' I say.Oh crap, did I have to put it like that?'What?'His voice is incredulous, and so it should be.I try not to be glib, I try to be forthright, and I end up sounding like the worst Hollywood fucking movie of all time, uttering a stupid fucking line that makes me sound like Ben Stiller, Adam Sandler and someone else completely shite all rolled into one.'I could talk to her.She understood.''She understood what? That you were a fucked-up piece of useless, washed-out crap?'Well, that pretty much nails it.'You all know that's who I am,' I said.'She understood why.I could talk to her.That's all.'He takes a moment.Can see him step back from the precipice, the precipice where if he falls over it, he comes at me swinging.That was better.Might still have been a bit Hollywood, but it cuts to it.He knows that's my problem.He knows that beneath all the shit, the fights and the alcohol and the women, he knows that what I've needed is someone to talk to.His anger begins to dissipate, but it's not making this any easier.'You didn't kill her,' he says.It's not a question.He knows.She died around midday, I'd been in work from before eight, although I had gone off on my own.Where had I been when she died?'No, I didn't.''Why did you sleep with her, Sergeant?'That, I don't have an answer to.And if I do answer it, it's liable to create a breach in the walls.Not these four walls in this room, as Taylor gets going again.My own walls.The walls that I've constructed to help me get up today, to allow me to not go straight back to the vodka bottle.The walls that separate me from her.I don't want the walls to be breached.I can't let that happen.I don't want to go back to last night.'Before you leave, is there anything that I need to know?'Before I leave.I shake my head.'I'd told you everything prior to seeing her that evening.We didn't discuss the church.It was personal.''There's no hint of her being in a group with these other four?''No.''She talk about Cartwright when you spoke to her previously? You know, we're going to have to get that guy in.Is there anything we can use?'Give it a second, but I'd been thinking about it on the way in here.One of the reasons I walked.So I could think.But she never mentioned him.'Nothing.She was at St Stephen's, and they thought themselves quite detached.''She wasn't that detached if she was in collusion with the others.''I got no hint of that.'Hands in his pockets, nothing else to ask.It would have been better if I'd had something else to give him, although, of course, the more involved I'd made her seem, the worse it would have looked for me.He finally leaves his position at the window and goes to sit down behind his desk.'What are you going to do today?' he asks.'I don't know.Hadn't thought beyond seeing you this morning.Presumed you'd show me the door.''You knew I'd find out?''I was going to tell you.Was going to tell you last night, then Connor turned up.''You look terrible,' he says.Nothing to say to that.'If I send you home, are you just going to go to the pub for breakfast?''It's Sunday.There's a pub I can go to for breakfast?'He smiles ruefully, puts his elbow on the desk, rubs his forehead.'I'm sorry, sir.Didn't mean to give you the extra headache.I should get out of your hair.It doesn't matter whether you're suspending me, or whether I'm taking the day, or the rest of the week, or month, off sick.I should just go, and let you get on with the investigation.You can get someone to let me know what the situation is.''You had breakfast yet?''Some.''Go to the canteen.Eat breakfast [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]