Calibre

11

Andrews marched right up to Falls, went:

‘Did you have anything to do with what happened to McDonald?’

Falls gave her the look, waited, then:

‘You get to ask this just one time.’

Andrews didn’t like the expression on Falls’s face, but she was committed now so went:

‘Did you?’

‘No.’

Andrews wasn’t sure how to proceed. Falls waited then began to turn, paused, moved right into Andrews’s face, asked:

‘And if I’d said yes, what were you going to do? If I’d helped you out, you were going to do what exactly?’

Then she moved away, heading for the door, when Brant caught her up, said:

‘Terrific, you’re doing exactly like I wanted, but one thing, could you keep it for civilians, you don’t need to intimidate the good guys.’

Falls laughed, said:

‘You’re the one who once said there are no good guys.’

He considered that, then:

‘You don’t want to put too much stock in what I say. Oh, and could you lighten up on Porter Nash. He’s had a rough day, might be nice if you cut him some slack.’

Falls got outside, she was feeling fine and wasn’t about to let anyone ruin it. The truth was, she was getting a kick out of Brant’s assignment, sticking it to people. It was a rush, behaving like you thought they were total crap. She might continue to do so even if they caught the psycho. Coming to work, she’d stopped in her local mini-mart for the paper and a guy was holding everybody up with a Lotto entry.

She’d gone:

‘Hey, moron, you want to show some thought for people who work for a bloody living?’

He was stunned. He’d moved right out of the way. Then, parking her car, a woman had tried to beat her to the place and she’d rolled down the window, shouted:

You want to mess with a policewoman?’

She didn’t.

Falls reckoned it called for a celebration. She’d go to some pub she hadn’t tried before and put the staff through their paces. She felt a pounding in her blood at the thought of it and wondered if aggression wasn’t as hot as a line of coke.