Joe hadn’t known what to expect. He was taken to the Manchester Royal Infirmary, where another, more senior, detective and a nurse greeted them. He didn’t recognise Detective Inspector Irwin either. But Irwin seemed to know him. “When did you last see Hill?” he opened with.
“This morning.” No point in lying when they others had seen him.
“He’s planning something. Wanted me involved. Look, we haven’t even established this body is him. I’m here to identify a body, not undergo interrogation.”
“They told me about you.”
Joe just looked up at the ceiling, didn’t say anything. The nurse was giving him an ‘I know your type’ look.
“This way.” Irwin led the group off.
The body was on a bed in the A&E. The curtain had been drawn to hide it from prying eyes. “An ambulance brought him in an hour ago. He was pronounced dead on arrival. One of the officers who came to investigate recognised him and called for you.”
Joe had been expecting more wires and tubes connected to the body. But if he had been dead already there wouldn’t have been any need.
Hill’s face was pale. There was a gouge across the left side of his throat, flaps of skin either side of a jagged cut.
They had been friends, once. But it had ended so badly that none of that mattered. Looking at the body, all Joe could feel was anger. That Hill would now never repay his debts, that he had embroiled Joe in another Police investigation and that they’d ever met in the first place. “That’s Hill. Can I go now?”
“We have questions.”
“I won’t have answers.”
“When did you last see him?”
“I told you. This morning. I threw him out of my house.”
“What was he planning?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.”
“Don’t bullshit me.”
“Don’t bullshit me. If you really do know all about me you’ll know I was his victim last time. He wasn’t caught because Wilson was too dumb to see that. You lot came within a few signatures of a major harassment case.” Irwin’s expression had changed briefly at the mention of Wilson. “How is the Chief Inspector?”
“He was transferred.” Irwin was simmering, knowing he couldn’t say the things he wanted to. Joe had more he wanted to say, but kept his counsel as well. “Sergeant, take mister Irwin home.”
Notes I’m dropping behind with my NaNoWriMo project, but I’ve reached a section with lots of sex scenes in it, so that might lead to me speeding up.
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Technorati tag: Fiction, Crime, Manchester