A Taste for Malice by Michael J. Malone

behaviour.
    ‘DC McBain, I will tell you, like the countless times I have told my wife. No, I did not sleep with Lucy Hepburn.’
    I may be making the wrong judgement call on this, but I can see how a woman confined to a wheelchair might be riddled with fear that she would lose her able-bodied husband. Hepburn had picked up on that and as a final throw of the dice sent the accusing letter. Perhaps she thought that if the couple fought about this it would detract from the details that would emerge from the kids about how she treated them. What a manipulative bitch. That this continued to be a source of discord in this home was a testament to the power that woman still held over this household.
    ‘What’s wrong, Douglas? Weren’t you man enough for her? Did you try and she knocked you back?’ Liz’s expression is cold.
    Douglas jumps to his feet and stares down at his wife. There’s a look in his eyes that suggests that he has had enough. Police presence or not.
    ‘She wasn’t my type, darling. I prefer cripples.’ He turns and leaves the room.
    People do tend to save the worst of themselves for their loved ones and in my job I get to see plenty of such behaviour, but even I lost breath over the callousness of Douglas’s remark.
    Liz is wearing an expression that is part profound tiredness and part self-loathing and stares at the glass of the window. Eventually, while Alessandra and I wonder what to do with ourselves, she speaks.
    ‘Sometimes, I think, despite what I really want, all I can do is push him away.’

Chapter 6
    Ben was doing his usual budgie impression when Jim collected him from the nursery. He kept up his soprano chatter from the backseat all the way home. He’d been looking at books of dinosaurs and they were the biggest creatures ever to walk on the world he told Jim, his voice tight with awe.
    ‘They’re bigger than our house, Daddy.’
    ‘Yeah?’
    ‘Much bigger. The biggest one was a brachiosaurus. He had a long, long neck.’ His tone was so emphatic Jim couldn’t help but get caught up in it.
    ‘Wow.’ If only life could be that simple for everyone: enthuse so completely about one thing and let the rest of the world take care of itself.
    ‘And he ate leaves from the top of giant trees.’ The word “giant” never received such great stress. ‘Will Mummy want to see me tonight?’
    The abrupt change almost caused Jim to miss a red light. Braking in time, he searched for a suitable answer. ‘Mummy always wants to see you, son. She’s just a bit confused just now. Sometimes that happens when people are in accidents.’ He scanned his brain for a parallel in a child’s existence and couldn’t find one. ‘It’s like she woke up and found out she was suddenly married to me and had a new son called Ben.’
    ‘But she’s always been my mummy, Daddy.’ Jim could hear in his tone that Ben was doing his utmost to keep the tears at bay. The car behind blared his horn to let Jim know that the light had changed to green. He used his horn again. Jim shot him the finger and roared, ‘Piss off, prick.’
    ‘What’s a prick, Daddy?’
    Christ. You need to keep calm, Hilton. He searched for a stupid reply. ‘It’s a kind of sandwich, son.’ Where did that come from? The good thing with that answer was that Ben hated bread, so he was unlikely to ask someone for a prick sandwich. If he did, they’d be on to the social department quicker than you could dial 999.
    As soon as Jim could stop the car safely, he did. Then he clambered over into the back seat and sat beside Ben. He unlocked his seat belt and climbed into his father’s lap.
    ‘Why does Mummy not love me anymore?’ The tears that threatened earlier were now in full flow, the colour of his eyes washed into a pale green. Jim kissed his head and fought back the emotion that was tightening his throat.
    ‘Aww, Ben, Mummy does love you. She’ll always love you. It’s just that she’s not well just now. Remember when you