Faithfully: Chase & Halshaw #1 Read Free Page B

Evans.”
    Chase thought he detected a whiff of alcohol on the young
man’s breath. “Don’t move, Mr Evans,” he commanded. “I’ll deal with you later.”
Then he marched back across the road, crouched down next to his Sergeant, and
laid a tender hand on his shoulder.
    “Hang on, Ken,” he whispered. “The ambulance is coming. Can
you hear the siren? It’ll be here any moment. Hang on, please. For God’s sake,
hang on.”

Chapter 2 .
    Faith is... absolutely necessary and altogether impossible.
    Stanislaw Lem
     
     

1
    “Names, Darren! I want names!”
    Darren Hitchins sprawled back in the orange plastic chair,
his legs spread wide in his baggy jeans, and shook his head stubbornly.
    “You’ve owned up to five of the burglaries on the list. Now
I want names for the others.”
    The youth shook his head again.
    Chase sighed and sank into the chair opposite. “Look,
Darren. We disturbed a burglar in Chiltern Park last night. He almost killed my
Sergeant. He might still die.” He swallowed hard. “So this isn’t just about
burglary, Darren. It could be murder.”
    Darren smiled slowly. “Wasn’t me, mate. I was here all the
time, and you fuckin’ know it.”
    The Inspector shrugged. “Granted. But we’ve still got
fifteen more burglaries we can get you for.”
    Darren’s smile broadened. “No you ain’t. My brief says you
shouldn’t have done what you did, to get me to fess up to them five. I ain’t fessin ’ up to no more.”
    Chase looked intently at the young man and said nothing.
    “Was he the one what nicked me, your Sergeant?” Darren
asked.
    “Yes.” Chase saw no reason to lie.
    “Bastard! I hope he fucking dies!”
    Chase stared at the young man in disbelief. It was all he
could do to stop himself from thumping him in the face. Instead, he climbed to
his feet and threw open the interview room door.
    “Constable!” he called, his voice trembling. “Take Mr
Hitchins back to his cell, please.”
    The last thing Chase saw as he turned away was the broad
grin across Darren’s face.
    *
    “How’s Ken?” asked Sergeant Baker.
    “Still in intensive care, Bridget,” sighed Chase. “They
spent most of the night operating on him. He still might need more surgery on
his leg in the future.”
    “Is he out of danger, though?”
    “It’s too early to tell. We’ll find out more later, when he
comes round from the anaesthetic.”
    “How’s his wife doing? What’s her name? Nicky, isn’t it?”
    “That’s right. She’s with him now. She’s terrified,
distraught, angry, philosophical, all at the same time.” That’s the worst part
of this job, he said to himself. The effect on the families. Officers’
families, criminals’ families, victims’ families, they all spent the rest of
their lives paying for what was often a moment of madness.
    “And the kids?”
    “They’re at her Mum’s. Fortunately, they’re too little to
really understand.” You don’t believe that for a moment, any more than I do, he
added silently. But the pretence makes it all a little less heart-breaking.
    Bridget Baker nodded thoughtfully. “Oh, by the way,” she
said. “The Chief said he wanted a word. When you have a moment.”
     “Is he in now?”
    “Yes, I think so.”
    “Better get it over with, I suppose,” grunted Chase.
    *
    “Come in, Allen, come in,” boomed Chief Superintendent
Royce, rising to greet Chase. “Have a seat. Coffee?”
    “Oh, yes please,” sighed Chase.
    Royce filled a Styrofoam cup from the Kona filter coffee machine
behind his vast Victorian oak desk and handed it to Chase. “Here you go,” he
said. “Coffee Mate and sugar are just beside you.”
    Chase helped himself to creamer and sugar and stirred his
cup vigorously as he waited for Royce to continue.
    The Superintendent resumed his seat, sipped his own mug of
coffee, and stretched his long, immaculately trousered legs out in front of
him. “How’s Thomas?” he asked.
    “Too soon to say, Sir. He’s still