“Lie still,” said Harlan, holding him down.
“I can’t breathe.” The man’s voice came in a strangled gasp.
“Where is he?”
“I need an ambulance.”
“I’ll call one as soon as you tell me where Ethan Reed is.”
“How would I know that?” The man groaned. Spittle muddied with blood dribbled from the edges of his mouth.
“Listen to me, you’ve probably got serious internal injuries. You might not have long left to live. This could be your last chance to make amends, to save your soul. So why don’t you tell me where Ethan Reed is?”
“Oh God,” whimpered the man. “Oh God. I didn’t want to hurt anybody…I didn’t…I…” His voice faded out and his eyes rolled again.
“Stay with me,” urged Harlan, but he couldn’t keep the man from slipping back into unconsciousness. He checked through the man’s pockets and found a wallet. Inside it there was some loose change, a baggie containing a small amount of white powder, and six credit cards, each with a different name. In the distance, he heard the wail of approaching sirens.
Chapter 6
Harlan examined his arms. Bruises were already beginning to flower where the punches had landed. He folded his hands — which were trembling from the fading rush of adrenaline — together on the table in front of him. He looked at the uniform standing by the door of the interview room. “Don’t suppose you could get me a coffee and some painkillers?”
The uniform nodded and turned to leave. A short while later, Jim entered the room and put a polystyrene cup and a couple of tablets on the table. “How you doing?” he asked.
In answer, Harlan held up his shaky hands. “What about our man?”
“Still unconscious.”
“Will he live?”
“The doctors aren’t saying.”
“Who is he?”
“We don’t know. We’re running his prints.”
Harlan took out the gun. “I found this in his car.”
Jim looked at it with distaste. “Seems like every scumbag out there is carrying one of those pieces of crap these days. You’re lucky you didn’t get a bullet through your damn fool-”
Before Jim could finish, Garrett stormed into the room, and planting his hands on the table, said to Harlan, “Just what the fuck did you think you were doing? You put innocent peoples’ lives at risk out there tonight. Detective Monahan told you to stay put and do nothing.”
“I’m not a cop anymore, and I don’t take orders from anybody.”
“That’s right, Miller, you’re not a cop.” There was a tone of stung pride in Garrett’s voice. It was deeply embarrassing to him that one man, regardless of who that man might be, had succeeded where several hundred officers and detectives under his command had failed. Moreover, it was a blow to his career — it was no secret that he was an ambitious man with an eye on the Chief Constable’s office. “You’re an ex-con who’s failed to show for a meeting with his case officer. That’s a serious parole violation. I could have you put back inside.”
“So do it.”
The two men stared at each other, neither flinching. Garrett shook his head. “No. As much as it pains me to admit it, our main suspect would still be on the streets but for you. That’s why I’ve spoken to your case officer, explained that there were extenuating circumstances for your failure to show.”
“Do you expect me to say thanks?”
“No. I expect you to go home and get on with your life. I don’t want to hear your name in connection with this case again. If I do, I won’t hesitate to have you thrown back in prison. Do I make myself clear?”
What fucking life? Harlan felt like saying, but he said, “Perfectly.”
“Good.” Garrett straightened, casting Jim a stern glance as he turned to leave the room. “As soon as you’re finished 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.”