The Infirmary (DCI Ryan Mysteries prequel)(35)



“It certainly is,” he purred.

He returned the cheerful farewell, schooling his facial muscles into a smile, before letting them fall again into hard lines of anger as he caught the last lines of Ryan’s interview.

“…make sure to look over your shoulder because, one day, you’ll find me standing there.”

He stood perfectly still, long after the news programme had finished and was replaced with a show dedicated to houses sold at auction.

“Perhaps you should take your own advice, Chief Inspector,” he whispered.





CHAPTER 13


Will Cooper shared a smart student house in an upmarket area of Newcastle known as West Jesmond. It had a large student population and was within walking distance of the city centre and the dental hospital so, after bidding the undergraduate administrator a frosty farewell, Phillips and Lowerson decided to stretch their legs and cover the distance on foot.

Being far too proud to ask his younger colleague to slow down, Phillips puffed alongside Jack Lowerson and was forced to admit it might be time to start going to the gym. It wasn’t a question of trying to buff up for any woman; he wanted that to be clear from the start. It was purely a matter of staying fit and healthy in the long term. And that went for the smoking, too. It was absolutely nothing at all to do with Denise MacKenzie.

“Wonder why Cooper was suspended?”

Phillips was afforded a temporary reprieve as they paused beside a set of traffic lights.

“That’s what we’re going to find out, lad. It’s usually something to do with dishonesty, like cheating.”

“Could be some kind of dental negligence, if there is such a thing.”

“Aye, he might have pulled out the wrong tooth, I s’pose.”

“Maybe he was too embarrassed to tell us before,” Lowerson said.

Phillips turned to look at him.

“Embarrassed or not, he still lied in his statement. We don’t take too kindly to that, down at CID. He’s lucky we’re the ones to pay him a visit and not The Big Man.”

“Gregson?”

Phillips laughed; a rich, rumbling sound that disturbed a pigeon walking nearby.

“No, lad. I’m on about Ryan. It’s either black or white to him. No shades of grey in between, y’ nah what I mean?”

Lowerson nodded.

“Isn’t that what it’s all about? Good and bad?”

Phillips smiled a private smile as the lights changed and they stepped into the street.

“Jack, I was born and bred up here and I’ve lived here all my life. Wouldn’t have it any other way, neither. There are lads I grew up with, scrapped with, knocked a ball about with, who took a wrong turn too many and ended up in prison, or worse. I’ve seen their wives and their sons, some of them who went the same way, and thought: that could have been me.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he agreed. “But I nicked a loaf of bread or two when I was a nipper. That’s stealing, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Lowerson agreed, carefully.

“Aye, and m’ Da thrashed me for it, n’all,” Phillips remembered, with fondness. “But the fact was, we had nowt to eat. There’s kids on the streets with hungry bellies. It doesn’t make it right by the law but are you telling me you’d rather see them starve?”

Lowerson was silent, watching the toes of his shiny shoes against the paving stones.

“Now, you take Ryan. He’s a good, solid bloke,” Phillips said, and meant it. “There’s none better. He’ll do owt for anyone and you’ll never hear him complain. But he’s from a different sort of world. He wouldn’t know what it feels like to be really hungry or to wear shoes that’re too small. He does the job and does it like a pro but, all the time, he’s expecting better of people. He looks at people and expects them to do the right thing because he can’t imagine why they wouldn’t. That’s what I mean when I say that there are no shades of grey for him.”

Lowerson nodded his understanding.

“I wish I were more like that,” he confessed. “It makes me want to be better at what I do.”

“Aye, that’s what makes him the best,” Phillips mused. “That kind of raw idealism makes us all want to be better.”

They were silent for a few beats, then a thought struck Lowerson forcefully.

“What if he doesn’t catch this bloke—if it isn’t Will Cooper, or anyone else we can find. What if it ends up being one of those we have to let go?”

A shadow crossed Phillips’ face.

“I’ve never seen him so fixated,” he said. “Tell you the truth, lad, I’m a bit worried. It’s getting into his blood.”

“It’s been a couple of days, since the last one,” Lowerson muttered.

“Aye,” Phillips agreed. “There’ll be another one soon.”

*

Nicola regained consciousness slowly, her brain fighting its way valiantly through the mire of drug-induced stupor.

“Mm…Mmm…”

Her lips tried to form the word, to call for her mother or anyone who could help, but the sound could barely be heard above the patter of a light summer rain against the windowpanes.

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