Human Frailty, a Detective Mike Bridger novel by Mark Bredenbeck Page A

Bridger, old mum here sounds a bit
controlling.
    Mrs. Watson’s monologue was starting to
drill into his headache and Bridger found himself drifting off
again in a subconscious effort to relieve the pain. He suddenly
realized he had been staring at the floor. He did not know how long
he had averted his attention but the change in Mrs. Watson's voice
brought him out of his daze.
    "Are you all right Sergeant? Would you
like another cup of tea? ”
    He politely declined, "Perhaps we could talk
about when Marion was seen last".
    The crux of the matter was that Marion had
not arrived on Friday morning for her exam. Marion would never miss
an exam; she knew how important her education was to her mother.
Mrs. Watson had also not been able to contact her daughter on her
mobile or at that flat of hers.
    Today being early Saturday morning, Bridger
could think of numerous good reasons that she could not contact
Marion, but none of them he felt was appropriate to share with her
mother.
    He stood up and stretched his now stiff
back. “Mrs. Watson, your daughter is twenty seven; it's only been
twenty four hours. I bet she calls you later on with an excuse for
the exam. You'll see".
    "Sergeant, Marion's exam was last week; I
have not seen or heard from her for over seven days".
    Shit, thought Bridger, that changes things a
little.
    "Where does she live Mrs. Watson? I'm sure
she will be at home if the police checked her flat", he said,
trying to convince himself as well as Mrs. Watson.
    Mrs. Watson furnished him with an address
for the flat and names of her friends and then saw him to the
door.
    "Let me know as soon as possible will you
Sergeant, I am extremely worried".
    "As soon as I track her down Mrs. Watson, I
will let you know".
     
    Bridger got back into the car; he could see
Mrs. Watson standing behind her lace curtains in the window,
watching him from the safety of her living room. He left the window
slightly down, glad to be back in the fresh air. He could either go
to the address and make some inquiries, or fill in the forms and
pass it on as John Maine had suggested. He looked at his notebook;
he had hardly written anything on the page, subconsciously placing
little importance in the report.
    Despite the fact that no one had seen her
for a week, Marion was 27, not a child. It sounded like she moved
out to get some more out of life, she was hardly likely to tell her
mother everything now she was out of her immediate control. Mrs.
Watson was nothing, if not a bit strange. However, was she the type
to worry over nothing? His foggy mind could not put together a good
argument either way.
    He could not think of any reason Matthews
would want CIB involvement in a missing 27 year old at this early
stage. There was no reason to suspect foul play. Passing it on and
then going back to the office sounded very appealing in addition,
him right now. He thought of the chocolate milk he had in the
office fridge. In his state, anything but work, sounded very
appealing and chocolate milk was the elixir of life to a
hangover.
    As he switched on the car, Shane Carter's
voice leaked out of the speakers, singing about having 'Skin to
Wear'. The lyrics formed a disturbing picture in his head. He knew
he would have to make those inquiries, just for peace of mind. He
did not really think somebody was out there wearing Marion's skin,
but if anybody was wearing her skin, he hoped it was still
Marion.
    Chocolate milk would just have to wait.
     
     
     

Chapter Six
     
    He watched her often in the last few days,
lying there in the darkness, naked. She was exquisite, just like
mother. She did not even have to audition for the part.
    It had taken her a while to wake up after he
took her. He had feared he had put too much on the rag, used too
much to knock her out. Sitting, watching, waiting for her to awake
from her slumber he had grown anxious, if she had not woken, he
would never be able to lay his darkness to rest. She was the only
one who could make it