Murder Mile by Tony Black Read Free Book Online

duty roster, it’s what we are budgeted for this month.’ He picked up another pile of papers, ‘And this is what has been added to it from your little escapade last night … Where am I supposed to find the savings?’
    Brennan rolled his eyes towards his feet. ‘I think that’s an administrative issue, sir … As I said, I’m running a murder investigation.’
    The Chief Super gasped, his neck seemed to shorten as he threw himself back in his chair. ‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this. Do you read the papers?’
    ‘Yes, full of crime, sir.’
    ‘I was referring to the recession … The country is in dire straits in case you haven’t noticed, and we are public servants, we have to do our bit. Do we understand each other?’
    When he was younger, Brennan knew, he would have flared up after a remark like that. But not now. For some time he had come to the conclusion that life was an endless succession of such blows. Wullie had called it ‘eating crow’. Brennan knew the bird was a staple of every man’s diet, and it was a measure of the man how much he could consume without reacting.
    He answered, ‘I think we understand each other, sir.’ His heart beat faster now, he felt it pounding beneath his shirt front, but his chest cavity felt strangely empty. He was trapped, but he knew it was futile to struggle in the trap. It only made things worse, made the job more difficult for you.
    The Chief Super painted a thin smirk on his face, ‘Good, I’m glad we understand each other. Because any further misunderstandings will have very serious consequences, Inspector.’

Chapter 7
    BRENNAN KNEW THAT life was never going to be easy for him. For some it was. For the brutes whose only aim was to get snout to trough, life was simple, a joy even. For the thinking, the intelligent, it was a complex affair. He recalled an interrogation of a repeat offender – a gangly youth he’d watched grow into a stocky recidivist – who said he’d been in trouble his whole life because he ‘just had one of those faces’. Brennan knew he had one of those faces too; but there was more. There was something inside him – an energy he was dimly aware of. He would often feel it rise in him, force him to rebel, and even when he held it in check – ignored it, sublimated it – it was still there. It shone out of him, it showed in his face, and the brutes scented it like pack dogs detecting adrenaline before an attack.
    Brennan had tried to deny his self, who he was inside – to have an easy life – but it didn’t work. It merely weakened him, his energy attenuated. Denial of his true self only brought in doubts, and ultimately lowered the innate respect he had for himself. By the age he was now, Brennan knew he should have accepted his lot. Both physically and spiritually – he was what he was. There was no point fighting it, denying himself. But he sometimes longed for an easier path from birth to death – how could he not when the ignorant brutes had it so good?
    He felt controlled like a marionette on strings. Life was all about control – who had it, who controlled whom – it dictated the level of your contentment and happiness. If you were a controller, the world felt like it was yours, even a small world. But if you were controlled, even a little, you were nothing but someone’s plaything. Brennan had sometimes wondered about leaving the force, the city, hauling up somewhere alien to him. Somewhere where no one knew him, where he could be free, untrammelled. But it was only a dream. There was no escape from his lot and he knew it. The inner scream could rage, roar louder, but it had to be suppressed. Exhibiting doubts was a weakness, and if they saw weakness on the force, it made their control of you even stronger.
    The door’s hinges wheezed as Brennan entered Incident Room One. At once heads turned in his direction: he managed to ignore them for his first few steps but when Lou and Brian turned round to greet him in