Linger Awhile

22 Detective Inspector Hunter

18 January 2004. Harry Burke and I were drinking London Pride at The Anchor & Hope by the River Lea. A cold winter evening but we took our pints outside and sat down on a bench under the street lamp to enjoy the peacefulness of it. Across the river a train clattered with its windows all lit. It went over the bridge and the Sunday quiet moved in again behind it. Four murders, two suicides, three rapes and assorted burglaries this past week. Life goes on.

We didn’t say much for a while, drinking in the quiet with the London Pride. ‘Well,’ I said, ‘we’ve had nothing new in the vampire line.’

‘Early days,’ said Burke.

‘You’re still expecting another one?’

‘You’re the detective, not me. What do you think?’

‘I think I’d feel a lot better if we could catch whoever killed Rose Harland.’

‘Have you made any progress with your suspects?’ He was looking at me the way he looks when he’s waiting for me to catch up with his mental processes.

‘Not yet,’ I said. ‘I’m pretty sure Istvan Fallok didn’t kill her.’

‘How do you explain his saliva on her jacket?’

‘I think you know what’s in my mind about that, don’t you?’

‘Maybe,’ said Burke.

‘Go on,’ I said, ‘say it.’

‘You’re wondering if someone else left Fallok’s saliva on Rose Harland’s jacket?’

‘That’s right. How could that have happened?’

‘And you’re wondering why Justine Trimble’s saliva on the 10th of January was a match with Chauncey Lim’s?’

‘OK, why was it?’

‘This is as new to me as it is to you, but what if Justine has no cellular identity of her own?’

‘Go on.’

‘What if she needs blood in order to survive, and Istvan Fallok gave her some before she killed Rose Harland? And Chauncey Lim topped her up before we took her saliva on the 10th of January? Tell me, am I talking nonsense?’

One of the locals came out of the pub and nodded to Burke. ‘All right, Harry?’ he said.

‘All right, Mick?’ said Burke.

‘Inspector,’ said Mick. I’m known there because Burke is local and we always go to The Anchor & Hope when I visit.

‘Good evening to you,’ I said.

‘Terrible, that vampire case,’ said Mick.

‘What are you talking about?’ I said.

‘That woman as didn’t have no blood left in her,’ said Mick.

‘Don’t believe everything you read in the tabloids,’ I said.

‘Didn’t read it,’ said Mick. ‘My wife works at the mortuary and she saw the body when they brought it in. Proper drained, it was. Have you got any leads?’

‘I’m not able to say anything at this time,’ I said.

‘Right you are, guv,’ said Mick. ‘Mum’s the word.’ He nodded again and left.

‘What can I say?’ said Burke. ‘His wife does work in the mortuary.’

‘Small fucking world,’ I said.

‘To get back to Justine, what do you think you’ll do?’

‘I think I’ll have to talk to her and Fallok and Lim again and this time I’ll ask better questions.’

‘I’m looking forward to the answers,’ said Burke. And on that note we finished our last pints and went home.