Last Rites by Neil White Read Free Book Online

until a blast of parva spray sent him to the gutter, crying at the pain in his eyes. His bravado had melted now, and he had slept off most of the drink, but he was trying hard to keep his breakfast down. He'd been sick down his jumper, and he held it in his hands,putting it to his mouth whenever another wave of nausea hit him. Laura kicked the bin towards him and shook her head, trying to breathe through her mouth. This wasn't on the recruitment poster.
    Pete Dawson was frustrated. ‘Doesn't look like he wants to explain himself,’ he said to Laura. ‘Looks like the court will form its own conclusion.’
    ‘Do you really think it will get that far?’ asked the prisoner's legal representative, a young police-station runner in shiny pinstripes and gelled hair who looked like he wanted to be much further away from his client than the bolted-down chair would allow.
    ‘I wasn't talking to you,’ barked Pete.
    ‘Okay,’ the legal rep replied, his smirk forcing Pete to take a deep breath to keep his anger at bay. He turned to his client and said theatrically, ‘For the benefit of the tape, let's hear it one more time.’
    The prisoner held his jumper to his mouth. ‘No comment,’ came the muffled reply.
    Laura turned away as the smell of the jumper wafted towards her. She was frustrated by the no comment mantra, but she knew the advice was right. The other fighters didn't want to help, so if he didn't confess, he would win the day.
    ‘Let's suspend the interview,’ she said. ‘I think we all need some fresh air.’
    As Pete clicked off the tape machine, a twin-deck black cube, Laura said, ‘We're going to check out the CCTV. Your client can think about that as he sits in his cell.’
    As she headed for the door, Pete just behind her, sheheard a groan, and then the splash of the prisoner's vomit as he lost his battle with his stomach. From the curse that came from his rep, it seemed that he hadn't quite made it to the waste bin.
    Laura stepped into the corridor and smiled at Pete. ‘That's one interview room out of action for a while.’
    ‘Do you think we should have waited?’ he asked. ‘Let him recover? He can't think straight.’
    Laura shook her head. ‘The advice would have been the same, except the rep would have kept his shoes clean. I think I prefer it this way.’
    ‘So what now?’
    Laura checked her watch. The cells were full, the others on the CRT working their way through the list, and so when they had finished with this prisoner, it would be time to move on to another.
    ‘Like I said, I'm heading out to the town hall, see if the cameras picked anything up. Maybe we'll get something more than midnight lovers.’
    Pete scowled. The camera operators used to liven up their evenings by looking out for drunken couples snatching romance in alleys, just behind the bottle crates and dustbins, but two people had lost their jobs when the cameras missed an assault that put someone in a coma. Pete had been the one who had explained that to the victim's parents, and the memory wasn't a pleasant one.
    ‘And if we've nothing?’ he asked.
    She joined him in a scowl. ‘Then he walks, like always.’
    Laura felt her phone buzz. As she looked down, she saw that it was a text from Jack.
‘Coffee somewhere? Got some info for you.’
    ‘Got to go,’ she said to Pete. ‘Get him in a cell and write up the interview summary. I won't be long.’
    As she turned to walk away, the legal rep opened the door, his face white, his mouth set in a grimace. He glanced down towards his trousers. ‘Have you got a towel?’
    Laura was smiling as she left.

Chapter Eleven
    Rod Lucas had been to the hospital shop, and he looked up from his newspaper when he heard Abigail stir.
    He checked his watch. He had been there for a couple of hours.
    Abigail groaned and tried to roll over.
    ‘Miss Hobbs?’
    She turned towards him and reached out. There was a bandage over one eye, and the other one looked swollen and red. ‘Who is it?’