One Bad Turn Read Free Page B

then?’ his eye had a sly gleam to it.
    ‘Something like that.’ Ashcroft murmured. He was taller than Coupland, around six foot two, with a waistline that suggested abs rather than paunch. The men weighed each other up. ‘Don’t be taken in by my Tweedle Dum exterior,’ Coupland warned him, ‘in my spare time I have been known to run into burning buildings and rescue small children.’
    ‘I was admiring your jacket,’ Ashcroft replied, ‘Ralph Lauren if I’m not mistaken.’ Coupland shrugged. ‘My missus shops at TK Maxx, can’t resist a bargain. I feel sorry for her at times, can’t seem to help getting ideas above her station. Goes to sleep dreaming of Daniel Craig and wakes up staring at Johnny Vegas. Mind you, she hasn’t changed the locks yet so I must be doing something right.’ Coupland eyed Ashcroft suspiciously. ‘You’re early for the day shift,’ Ashcroft shrugged. ‘Couldn’t sleep so I had the radio on. News report said a body had been found. Thought I might be more use here. Anyway, what’s your excuse?’
    ‘Me? When I finally sleep it’ll be the sleep of the dead. Might as well work up a head of steam before that happens.’
    Mallender passed by the window looking into CID . Did a double-take when he saw Coupland talking to the new DC. ‘I thought I’d told you to call it a night.’ He chided, putting his head around the door. ‘No point,’ Coupland rubbed the back of his neck, ‘besides, I’d rather crack on,’ He also didn’t fancy his chances of getting any shut eye with Sharon Mathers’ injuries etched into his brain. Mallender nodded. ‘Have you got a minute, then?’ Indicating that this was something he wanted to say in private. Coupland turned to Ashcroft, ‘Make yourself useful, start reading through the notes taken so far relating to the boyfriend, bring me up to speed on anything worth pursuing first thing. Oh, and get me something out of the drinks machine.’ With that he followed Mallender out of the room. ‘What do you want, Sarge?’ Ashcroft called after him. Coupland shrugged. ‘I’m not bothered, as long as it’s warm and wet.’
    ‘Sugar?’
    ‘I’d prefer it if you called me Sarge until I know you better,’ he chided, before shaking his head in answer, ‘no, I’ve got sweeteners…’ A hush descended on the CID room followed by sniggering. He could feel the collective mickey taking that would be triggered by this new revelation. ‘Lynn’s finally got me to pack in sugar, so what?’ he said defensively. Friends were already saying he looked better for it but this lot would never say anything nice now everyone knew the effort he was making. Christ, what the hell would they do when they found him in possession of a vapour stick? Where the hell was Alex Moreton when he needed her? ‘Neanderthals, the lot o’ you…’ he hissed under his breath.
    Mallender’s office was tidy but not obnoxiously so. His working life was bogged down with preparing reports for the Chief Super and the ever growing burden of making sure crimes had been recorded accurately, though it was a constant battle. Victims of robbery were often assaulted, but the Information Commission had found that several forces were recording data differently, resulting in bun fights further up the food chain and as the saying goes shit only ever runs downhill. Mallender’s role was a sticky one, Coupland didn’t envy it, but at least the DCI didn’t have to interview a grieving partner on little to no shut eye and not nearly enough caffeine to see him through.
    They sat down either side of Mallender’s desk. Coupland, resisting the urge to drum his fingers, waited him out. Mallender shuffled a few papers and cleared his throat, ‘Superintendent Curtis…’ he began, letting Coupland know as subtly as he could that he didn’t endorse the statement he was about to make, ‘…feels the murder should be treated as a Hate crime.’ Coupland blew out his cheeks, ‘I suspected he