20

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

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