back to another time. One of such happiness. All dashed in the blink of an eye.
'Yeah, I know,' he said, 'but-'
'Hey, Sam, I told you when you left, take as long as you need to get in touch. How are you, anyway?'
Sam thought about it for a moment.
'I'm getting there...I think.'
He heard Richie clear his throat. His old friend wanted to ask about the nightmares. The drinking. The things that had driven Sam away.
'How about you, Richie?' asked Sam quickly. 'Are the family okay?'
'Yeah, bud. They're all good. And I'm still working my arse off for little thanks. For Peters now, rather than Walters. So, no change there.'
Walters.
Hearing the name again rekindled the old rage deep within Sam.
'You're still working there?' he asked.
Richie drew a deep breath.
'I gave it a lot of thought, Sam. I questioned everything after what happened. Myself, the job, the force, everything. But it's all I've ever done. All I've ever known.'
Sam knew it was. Richie had started with the force on the very same day as Sam. Just two raw kids setting out on their careers. They had hit it off immediately. Progressed through the ranks together. Watched out for each other. Worked alongside each other right up to the-
'As for Walters,' continued Richie, interrupting Sam's thoughts, 'it broke him.'
Sam tried to quell two years of anger. He didn't want to let it out on Richie.
'Richie,' he said quietly. 'I don't want to hear about Walters.'
There was a moments silence.
'Sam,' Richie said tentatively. 'I know you don't want to hear about him, but I want to tell you because it might give you some sense of justice.'
Sam closed his eyes and said nothing, allowing Richie to continue.
'Walters couldn't look us in the eye after what happened. The guilt began to get to him. It made him ill. He broke down and admitted it was all his fault. They sent him home on sick leave. Two days later, he blew his brains out.'
Silence again.
Sam swallowed hard. Richie's news gave him no satisfaction. There was no justice to be had now. It was time to move on.
'Richie, I'm ringing because I need a favour.'
'Fire away, buddy,' said Richie, sounding relieved. Sam imagined his old friend carrying the burden of that news around with him all this time. Wanting to tell Sam. Hoping it would bring closure in some way.
'I'd like any information you can find on an environmental activist group called Red 71.'
'Red 71? Can't say the name rings a bell.'
'Apparently, they're an offshoot of Save the Countryside.'
Sam smiled as he heard Richie tapping away down the line. It had always been one of Richie's traits, tapping his fingers excitedly when something came to him.
'Ah, Save the Countryside! Now that lot I do know. Green-fingered lunatics looking for any excuse to get their wellies on and go on a march.'
'The very same,' laughed Sam, suddenly missing Richie's droll sense of humour. 'I need to know what Red 71 have been up to over the last couple of years, and I could really do with finding out if they're active right now.'
'Any particular part of the country?' asked Richie.
'Up North,' Sam told him. 'A small district called Bursleigh.'
'Is that where you are now?'
Sam didn't answer. He heard Richie cuss softly.
'Sorry, bud. Didn't mean to pry. I'm sure you'll tell me. If and when you're ready...'
Chapter 13
Sam's next task was to pay a visit to the library. He drove into town feeling heartened after his conversation with Richie. The two men had talked a while longer before Richie rang off, promising to call Sam as soon as he found out anything.
He parked up in a side street. There were few people about in town, just the odd early-evening reveller braving the bitter cold. Sam hurried into the warmth of the library, where he found a studious looking young man behind the reception desk stamping one book after another with careful precision. Beyond the desk, the main reading area was empty.
The young librarian, Gareth, according to his name badge, led Sam over
'Yeah, I know,' he said, 'but-'
'Hey, Sam, I told you when you left, take as long as you need to get in touch. How are you, anyway?'
Sam thought about it for a moment.
'I'm getting there...I think.'
He heard Richie clear his throat. His old friend wanted to ask about the nightmares. The drinking. The things that had driven Sam away.
'How about you, Richie?' asked Sam quickly. 'Are the family okay?'
'Yeah, bud. They're all good. And I'm still working my arse off for little thanks. For Peters now, rather than Walters. So, no change there.'
Walters.
Hearing the name again rekindled the old rage deep within Sam.
'You're still working there?' he asked.
Richie drew a deep breath.
'I gave it a lot of thought, Sam. I questioned everything after what happened. Myself, the job, the force, everything. But it's all I've ever done. All I've ever known.'
Sam knew it was. Richie had started with the force on the very same day as Sam. Just two raw kids setting out on their careers. They had hit it off immediately. Progressed through the ranks together. Watched out for each other. Worked alongside each other right up to the-
'As for Walters,' continued Richie, interrupting Sam's thoughts, 'it broke him.'
Sam tried to quell two years of anger. He didn't want to let it out on Richie.
'Richie,' he said quietly. 'I don't want to hear about Walters.'
There was a moments silence.
'Sam,' Richie said tentatively. 'I know you don't want to hear about him, but I want to tell you because it might give you some sense of justice.'
Sam closed his eyes and said nothing, allowing Richie to continue.
'Walters couldn't look us in the eye after what happened. The guilt began to get to him. It made him ill. He broke down and admitted it was all his fault. They sent him home on sick leave. Two days later, he blew his brains out.'
Silence again.
Sam swallowed hard. Richie's news gave him no satisfaction. There was no justice to be had now. It was time to move on.
'Richie, I'm ringing because I need a favour.'
'Fire away, buddy,' said Richie, sounding relieved. Sam imagined his old friend carrying the burden of that news around with him all this time. Wanting to tell Sam. Hoping it would bring closure in some way.
'I'd like any information you can find on an environmental activist group called Red 71.'
'Red 71? Can't say the name rings a bell.'
'Apparently, they're an offshoot of Save the Countryside.'
Sam smiled as he heard Richie tapping away down the line. It had always been one of Richie's traits, tapping his fingers excitedly when something came to him.
'Ah, Save the Countryside! Now that lot I do know. Green-fingered lunatics looking for any excuse to get their wellies on and go on a march.'
'The very same,' laughed Sam, suddenly missing Richie's droll sense of humour. 'I need to know what Red 71 have been up to over the last couple of years, and I could really do with finding out if they're active right now.'
'Any particular part of the country?' asked Richie.
'Up North,' Sam told him. 'A small district called Bursleigh.'
'Is that where you are now?'
Sam didn't answer. He heard Richie cuss softly.
'Sorry, bud. Didn't mean to pry. I'm sure you'll tell me. If and when you're ready...'
Chapter 13
Sam's next task was to pay a visit to the library. He drove into town feeling heartened after his conversation with Richie. The two men had talked a while longer before Richie rang off, promising to call Sam as soon as he found out anything.
He parked up in a side street. There were few people about in town, just the odd early-evening reveller braving the bitter cold. Sam hurried into the warmth of the library, where he found a studious looking young man behind the reception desk stamping one book after another with careful precision. Beyond the desk, the main reading area was empty.
The young librarian, Gareth, according to his name badge, led Sam over
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