'Five to eight.'
So, where did I go now? Kathy was nowhere to be found, my
children were with my mother-in-law, and my house felt pretty
much out of bounds. It didn't leave a lot of places. I felt like I
needed a drink. Maybe a couple. There are few things that beat
the consumption of alcohol in a crisis.
I got to my feet and followed McFee out of the cell and
through the corridors into the station's main reception area. It
was a small, drab space dotted with posters warning potential
criminals of the supposedly dire consequences of their wrongdoing.
Along the length of one wall were bulletproof Perspex
screens behind which the police dealt with their customers. The
latest, two rat-faced teenagers in the delinquent's uniform of big
trainers, baggy jeans and hoodies, were being booked in by the
same custody sergeant who'd dealt with me nearly three hours
earlier. Their expressions were boredly defiant. Unlike me when
I'd been brought in, there was no fear on their faces either.
A younger copper appeared on the other side of the screen
and took me to one of the other windows, where I was booked
out. In the background, the phone was ringing. No-one made
any move to answer it.
'Thanks for your co-operation, sir,' said the young copper as
he got me to sign for the bag containing my possessions. He
sounded so chirpy I thought he was going to add a 'Don't go
being a stranger now', but somehow he managed to resist it.
I grunted something in reply, and asked if there was any
chance of a lift over to the university to pick up my car.
'I'm afraid we're rather short-staffed tonight, sir. We can call
you a taxi if you like.'
The old saying that there was never a copper around when
you needed one rang truer than ever. 'Forget it,' I said. 'I could
probably do with the walk.'
I gathered my stuff together, turned on my mobile and walked
out of the double doors with Douglas McFee in tow. When we
were on the steps, he handed me one of his business cards and
told me to call him if the police needed to question me again.
'I'd offer you a lift, but...' he added.
'But what?'
'Unfortunately, I'm expected home. Graham's cooked a
special meal. Sea bream baked in rock salt, which won't keep,
and the university's in the wrong direction. Take care, Mr
Meron.' With that, he gave me a comradely pat on the arm and
hurried off down the steps, making me feel more like a leper
than ever.
I followed him down, and walked through the car park to the
gate, imagining him and Graham munching away on a huge wet
fish in their cosy parlour. For some reason I couldn't quite
fathom, I pictured McFee wearing a pair of clogs and a well
worn smoking jacket.
I was also thinking that as well as a drink I was going to buy a
pack of cigarettes and have my first smoke in almost ten years.
My mood was beginning to change from terrified and confused
to why-the-hell-not mode. But as I reached the gate, I heard
someone shouting my name. I turned round and saw McFee
standing by his car with his keys in his hand, waving over in my
direction. It was him doing the shouting. Then I saw why. He
wanted me to stop. Not, I suspect, because he'd had a change of
heart and wanted to give me a lift, or offer me a fish supper. More likely it was because two uniformed officers were hurrying down the steps in my direction, looking very much like they wanted to speak to me.
My first thought was that they'd finally located Kathy, and I
was already preparing to walk back to them, when a second
thought crossed my mind. What if whoever was trying to set me,
or her, up had planted further evidence, giving them a fresh opportunity to do what they'd wanted to do these last three
hours, and charge me with a killing I'd had nothing to do with?
I had twenty yards on them, and I made a snap decision.
Run.
I turned and charged through the open gates and out onto
the»high street, where evening revellers were just beginning to
gather. Dusk was turning to darkness, and I welcomed it. I didn't
look round, but
So, where did I go now? Kathy was nowhere to be found, my
children were with my mother-in-law, and my house felt pretty
much out of bounds. It didn't leave a lot of places. I felt like I
needed a drink. Maybe a couple. There are few things that beat
the consumption of alcohol in a crisis.
I got to my feet and followed McFee out of the cell and
through the corridors into the station's main reception area. It
was a small, drab space dotted with posters warning potential
criminals of the supposedly dire consequences of their wrongdoing.
Along the length of one wall were bulletproof Perspex
screens behind which the police dealt with their customers. The
latest, two rat-faced teenagers in the delinquent's uniform of big
trainers, baggy jeans and hoodies, were being booked in by the
same custody sergeant who'd dealt with me nearly three hours
earlier. Their expressions were boredly defiant. Unlike me when
I'd been brought in, there was no fear on their faces either.
A younger copper appeared on the other side of the screen
and took me to one of the other windows, where I was booked
out. In the background, the phone was ringing. No-one made
any move to answer it.
'Thanks for your co-operation, sir,' said the young copper as
he got me to sign for the bag containing my possessions. He
sounded so chirpy I thought he was going to add a 'Don't go
being a stranger now', but somehow he managed to resist it.
I grunted something in reply, and asked if there was any
chance of a lift over to the university to pick up my car.
'I'm afraid we're rather short-staffed tonight, sir. We can call
you a taxi if you like.'
The old saying that there was never a copper around when
you needed one rang truer than ever. 'Forget it,' I said. 'I could
probably do with the walk.'
I gathered my stuff together, turned on my mobile and walked
out of the double doors with Douglas McFee in tow. When we
were on the steps, he handed me one of his business cards and
told me to call him if the police needed to question me again.
'I'd offer you a lift, but...' he added.
'But what?'
'Unfortunately, I'm expected home. Graham's cooked a
special meal. Sea bream baked in rock salt, which won't keep,
and the university's in the wrong direction. Take care, Mr
Meron.' With that, he gave me a comradely pat on the arm and
hurried off down the steps, making me feel more like a leper
than ever.
I followed him down, and walked through the car park to the
gate, imagining him and Graham munching away on a huge wet
fish in their cosy parlour. For some reason I couldn't quite
fathom, I pictured McFee wearing a pair of clogs and a well
worn smoking jacket.
I was also thinking that as well as a drink I was going to buy a
pack of cigarettes and have my first smoke in almost ten years.
My mood was beginning to change from terrified and confused
to why-the-hell-not mode. But as I reached the gate, I heard
someone shouting my name. I turned round and saw McFee
standing by his car with his keys in his hand, waving over in my
direction. It was him doing the shouting. Then I saw why. He
wanted me to stop. Not, I suspect, because he'd had a change of
heart and wanted to give me a lift, or offer me a fish supper. More likely it was because two uniformed officers were hurrying down the steps in my direction, looking very much like they wanted to speak to me.
My first thought was that they'd finally located Kathy, and I
was already preparing to walk back to them, when a second
thought crossed my mind. What if whoever was trying to set me,
or her, up had planted further evidence, giving them a fresh opportunity to do what they'd wanted to do these last three
hours, and charge me with a killing I'd had nothing to do with?
I had twenty yards on them, and I made a snap decision.
Run.
I turned and charged through the open gates and out onto
the»high street, where evening revellers were just beginning to
gather. Dusk was turning to darkness, and I welcomed it. I didn't
look round, but
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