Violent Crimes Against Children program the past three years. I haven’t worked any murder cases there.”
“This is my first. Same for DCI Simmons too.”
At the time, Ingrid hadn’t been able to understand Mbeke’s sudden confessional mood. But now she’d had time to think about it, she supposed the reality of a potential suspect had brought his insecurities to the surface. She felt a little sorry for the guy. Their little tête-à-tête had been abruptly curtailed when the detective inspector took a call from the pathologist. As the EMTs had suspected, Matthew Fuller had died of a massive coronary. However, the pathologist’s initial investigation had found no evidence of poisoning in Fuller’s major organs. But they would know more tomorrow.
Ingrid checked her watch again. McKittrick had precisely three more minutes to make an appearance. She crossed the narrow cobbled street and took a good look at the exterior of the bar. Apparently, it had only opened the weekend before and had created quite a buzz. Ingrid had been reliably informed that it was situated in the ‘Williamsburg of east London’. That was Williamsburg, New York, rather than Williamsburg, Virginia, she presumed. Even if it were true, she wasn’t sure it was recommendation enough. She just hoped it sold a good range of tequilas. After her nights out with McKittrick, she was becoming quite a connoisseur.
“Hello!”
Ingrid turned to see her friend ambling toward her.
“You look vaguely suspicious loitering on the pavement like that,” McKittrick said. “Different shoes and a short skirt and you might get arrested.”
“That’s hilarious.” Ingrid grabbed McKittrick’s arm and dragged her across the street. “Let’s get inside, I’m really ready for a drink.”
“I can’t stay long.”
“What?”
“Sorry—I’ve got more crap to deal with from Internal Investigations. They sprang a seven a.m. meeting on me just as I was leaving tonight. I’ve got to get to bed at a reasonable time. And I can’t get too bladdered either.”
Ingrid let her silence tell McKittrick how disappointed she was.
“I’m sorry OK? If it had been anything else I’d say sod it, let’s party. But we are actually talking about my future career here.”
“Are we?” Ingrid pushed open the door into the bar. Immediately the noise of dozens of excitable twenty-somethings swallowed up McKittrick’s reply.
It took a full ten minutes to get served at the bar. After nine of those, Ingrid got so pissed off with the wait that she stooped to using what her dad was fond of calling her “feminine wiles” to jump to the front of the line. She felt a little pathetic, flirting her way to a jug of margarita and two large salt-rimmed glasses, but at least it got the job done.
“We’re not doing shots then?” McKittrick sounded disappointed when Ingrid arrived at the table the detective had secured in a slightly quieter corner of the bar. Ingrid suspected McKittrick had used her warrant card to stake her claim to the bench and two stools.
“You said you didn’t want to have a big night. Margarita is a good compromise.” Ingrid found herself shouting against the din. Was she really so old the atmospheric trance track sounded more like noise than music? She hoped to hell she wasn’t.
“There’s big and there’s enormous.” McKittrick filled their glasses.
“So are you finally going to tell me what Internal Investigations are actually investigating?”
McKittrick shrugged. “It’s just a pain in the arse. A suspect I arrested has made an allegation about me. Says I pocketed some of the drugs we recovered. Claims he saw me slip a few packs into a pocket before we bagged up the evidence.”
“Why are your bosses taking him so seriously? Surely they won’t believe his word against yours.”
“They have to be seen to take every allegation seriously. The Met’s had enough scandal to deal with lately, they can’t take any chances.”
“What
“This is my first. Same for DCI Simmons too.”
At the time, Ingrid hadn’t been able to understand Mbeke’s sudden confessional mood. But now she’d had time to think about it, she supposed the reality of a potential suspect had brought his insecurities to the surface. She felt a little sorry for the guy. Their little tête-à-tête had been abruptly curtailed when the detective inspector took a call from the pathologist. As the EMTs had suspected, Matthew Fuller had died of a massive coronary. However, the pathologist’s initial investigation had found no evidence of poisoning in Fuller’s major organs. But they would know more tomorrow.
Ingrid checked her watch again. McKittrick had precisely three more minutes to make an appearance. She crossed the narrow cobbled street and took a good look at the exterior of the bar. Apparently, it had only opened the weekend before and had created quite a buzz. Ingrid had been reliably informed that it was situated in the ‘Williamsburg of east London’. That was Williamsburg, New York, rather than Williamsburg, Virginia, she presumed. Even if it were true, she wasn’t sure it was recommendation enough. She just hoped it sold a good range of tequilas. After her nights out with McKittrick, she was becoming quite a connoisseur.
“Hello!”
Ingrid turned to see her friend ambling toward her.
“You look vaguely suspicious loitering on the pavement like that,” McKittrick said. “Different shoes and a short skirt and you might get arrested.”
“That’s hilarious.” Ingrid grabbed McKittrick’s arm and dragged her across the street. “Let’s get inside, I’m really ready for a drink.”
“I can’t stay long.”
“What?”
“Sorry—I’ve got more crap to deal with from Internal Investigations. They sprang a seven a.m. meeting on me just as I was leaving tonight. I’ve got to get to bed at a reasonable time. And I can’t get too bladdered either.”
Ingrid let her silence tell McKittrick how disappointed she was.
“I’m sorry OK? If it had been anything else I’d say sod it, let’s party. But we are actually talking about my future career here.”
“Are we?” Ingrid pushed open the door into the bar. Immediately the noise of dozens of excitable twenty-somethings swallowed up McKittrick’s reply.
It took a full ten minutes to get served at the bar. After nine of those, Ingrid got so pissed off with the wait that she stooped to using what her dad was fond of calling her “feminine wiles” to jump to the front of the line. She felt a little pathetic, flirting her way to a jug of margarita and two large salt-rimmed glasses, but at least it got the job done.
“We’re not doing shots then?” McKittrick sounded disappointed when Ingrid arrived at the table the detective had secured in a slightly quieter corner of the bar. Ingrid suspected McKittrick had used her warrant card to stake her claim to the bench and two stools.
“You said you didn’t want to have a big night. Margarita is a good compromise.” Ingrid found herself shouting against the din. Was she really so old the atmospheric trance track sounded more like noise than music? She hoped to hell she wasn’t.
“There’s big and there’s enormous.” McKittrick filled their glasses.
“So are you finally going to tell me what Internal Investigations are actually investigating?”
McKittrick shrugged. “It’s just a pain in the arse. A suspect I arrested has made an allegation about me. Says I pocketed some of the drugs we recovered. Claims he saw me slip a few packs into a pocket before we bagged up the evidence.”
“Why are your bosses taking him so seriously? Surely they won’t believe his word against yours.”
“They have to be seen to take every allegation seriously. The Met’s had enough scandal to deal with lately, they can’t take any chances.”
“What
Similar Books
