I called Erica on the way home.
"You woke me up," she said.
"Yeah, but listen-"
"You sodding well woke me up."
"You should come back to work," I said.
"What's it to you?"
"You can't let Dutton win."
"That's not why you rang," she said. "What do you want?"
"I need your advice. I've nobody else to talk to."
"Jesus, Collins, I'm not a cop any more."
"Course you are. You can't just walk away."
"Watch me."
"But you know the situation," I said. "You know the background. You've met Mrs Wilson. I just want to talk it through. It's not making any sense."
"Talk it through with your uncle."
"Come on," I said. "I can't wake him up at two in the morning."
She yelled down the phone and hung up.
I gave it five minutes and called again. But the phone rang out. I got the answering machine. "Hey," I said. "I miss you. Come back."
She didn't return the call.
I drove home with the fake finger inside an evidence bag on the passenger seat.
Allan Guthrie
Bye Bye Baby