Love Story, With Murders
“Some of my wounds need their dressings changed and it takes longer than I expected. So I text Watkins to tell her I’ll be late and do the job properly. One of the cuts on my hand opens up any time I move it too much, so there’s fresh blood on the bandage by the time I’ve finished. I’m fairly sure that even the Watkinsian Handbook of Personnel Management prohibits you from ripping someone’s head off when they are newly wounded in the line of duty.
I dress with more formality than normal. Ski...rt, shirt, jacket. Not quite Hobbs-posh, but still. All part of my gossip-suppression strategy. Put a handful of aspirin in my jacket pocket. A couple of amisulpride tablets as well, just in case.
I’m with Watkins in the interview room by eight fifty. She glowers, but doesn’t give me a bollocking. The room is bare. There’s a video camera, a computer screen, a table, a couple of chairs. The place ought to look like the movies, where everything is painted battleship grey and maverick cops beat crap out of the suspects, but mostly it just looks like the sort of thing you have in local government.MoreLess
I dress with more formality than normal. Ski...rt, shirt, jacket. Not quite Hobbs-posh, but still. All part of my gossip-suppression strategy. Put a handful of aspirin in my jacket pocket. A couple of amisulpride tablets as well, just in case.
I’m with Watkins in the interview room by eight fifty. She glowers, but doesn’t give me a bollocking. The room is bare. There’s a video camera, a computer screen, a table, a couple of chairs. The place ought to look like the movies, where everything is painted battleship grey and maverick cops beat crap out of the suspects, but mostly it just looks like the sort of thing you have in local government.MoreLess
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