Vixen

5

Falls Had had a shitty day.

As regards the bomber, which was currently A-list, she was out of the loop. Her past connections to the principals — Brant, Roberts, Porter Nash — hadn’t cut any ice. Even the mundane crap, the bottom-feeder stuff, like the door-to-door slog, didn’t include her.

She’d managed to catch Roberts alone in the canteen, a rare moment for the man heading up the hunt and asked:

‘Join you for a sec, guv?’

He hadn’t quite rebuffed her but it was in the neighbourhood, said:

‘I don’t have a whole load of time.’

She wanted to shout:

‘You shithead, when your wife died and you climbed into a vat of red wine, who pulled you out… who had a whole lot of time then?’

But went with:

‘I won’t keep you, sir.’

As she sat, he glanced at his watch. There are many ways to say Hey, you’re no longer a player but this has the benefit of being the shortest. You also get to see the time. Nervous, she almost unconsciously reached for her smokes and he asked:

‘You’re not thinking of smoking are you, not into my face?’

Closed her bag, said:

“Course not, sir.’

Wondering when exactly he’d made the leap to complete prick. Worse, he was tapping the fingers of his right hand on the table and snapped:

‘What is it, Falls? I’m not a mind reader.’

‘Ahm, yes… right, I was wondering… if I might, er, help in the current investigation?’

He stared at her, appeared truly astonished, said:

‘Don’t you know you’re under a cloud? I mean, surely you realise your very job is hanging by a thread?’

‘I thought, sir, that… thought all that was behind me.’

He stood up, straightened his tie, ran his fingers through his hair and without looking at her, said:

‘You thought wrong.’

And was gone.