Still Waters by John Harvey Read Free Book Online

Charlie. No two ways about it. Your lad, got himself in a right bloody mess.”
    â€œTell me,” Resnick said.
    Wiggins shook a packet of Benson Kingsize in Resnick’s direction, raised an eyebrow at his refusal, lit one for himself and inhaled deeply. “Leaving aside the scraps he was into in half a dozen pubs beforehand, it’s the ruckus at Buckaroos that’s the dog’s fucking bollocks.”
    Resnick had driven by the place several times in the past: a sprawling nightclub with a kicking stallion in pink neon over the door and bouncers who wore bootlace ties with their DJs.
    â€œNone of this corroborated, of course. Not fully. Not yet. My lads out asking questions now. But the way it seems, your lad was abusive to the bar staff right from the start; he asks this girl to dance and when she says no, drags her out onto the floor anyhow. She manages to pull away and when he comes after her, lobs her drink in his face. Your boy slaps her hard for her trouble.” Wiggins tumbled ash from the end of his cigarette. “When security shows up, he sticks a pint glass in one of’em’s face.”
    â€œProvocation?”
    â€œLike I say, we’re asking questions. No problem there. More witnesses than you can shake a stick at.”
    â€œAnd the injuries?”
    â€œSeventeen stitches in some other poor bastard’s face. One lad with a cut across his hand, tendons severed, doubtful if they’ll mend. When the first uniforms arrived, that was when he pulled the knife.”
    â€œWhat knife?”
    â€œStanley knife. Inside pocket of his suit.”
    â€œAnd he used it, is that what you’re saying?”
    Wiggins shook his head. “Not what we’re hearing so far.”
    â€œThreatened to?”
    â€œApparently.”
    â€œIt’s not possible the officers misinterpreted, heat of the moment?”
    â€œCome on, Charlie.”
    â€œIt’s possible, though? Couldn’t he have been handing it over?”
    Wiggins chuckled. “Blade first?”
    Resnick was on his feet, hands in pockets, pacing the room. “Divine. You know what happened to him. A few months back.”
    â€œI’d heard something.”
    â€œHe was raped. Smashed round the face with a baseball bat and raped.”
    â€œDoesn’t excuse …”
    Resnick brought the palms of both hands down against the inspector’s desk, flat and fast. “Reasons, not excuses. Reasons. This is a serving officer …”
    â€œSuspended …”
    â€œSick leave.”
    â€œSame thing.”
    Resnick let that pass. “A detective constable with a commendation for bravery …”
    â€œAnd a knife in his pocket.”
    â€œHe’s frightened.”
    â€œFunny way to show it.”
    â€œEver since he was attacked, frightened. Months before he’d go out at all.”
    â€œAh, well, always find a reason, eh, Charlie. Search hard enough. Excuses for every fucking thing. I don’t doubt but you could find him some psychiatrist, half an hour in the witness box, make it seem as if nowt ever happened.”
    Resnick shook his head. “I just want you to understand.”
    â€œOh, I understand. One of yours, Charlie, you want to do your best for him, I can appreciate that. Respect it. Good management. Good for the team. But see things from my point of view; think how the papers’d look at it, bloody television, some copper runs amok with a blade and we pat him on the head and tell him to take it easy, dole out a few aspirin.”
    â€œThat’s not what I’m saying. Not what I want.”
    â€œWhat do you want, Charlie?”
    â€œTo think your people’d treat him with some understanding. And go easy when it comes to laying charges. Think about the whole picture.”
    â€œThe whole picture,” Wiggins smirked. “We’re good at that. Noted.”
    â€œDon’t keep him locked up longer than you have to.