“Is it your intention to reply, ‘no comment’ to everything we ask you?” Sharma asked.
There was a pause, Quince looked at the lawyer, then he said, “no comment.”
“You were arrested while threatening our officers with a shotgun.”
“No comment.”
“We have a statement from Mr Shaver saying you paid him to commit two murders.”
“No comment.”
“We have your fingerprints on a large quantity of money paid to Mr Shaver.”
“No comment.”
“We have your computer, where we have a complete history of everything you looked up, including details regarding Karen Edwards, who we believe you tried to kill, after telling her to kill herself.”
“No comment.”
“We have found in your possession a laptop, belonging to Mr Cribb, which contains serious accusations against the man.”
“No comment.”
“Okay, well, I think we’ll bring this to a close here, because basically we are going to pass this case to the Crown Prosecution Service, and we expect them to charge you on several counts. Telling a person to kill someone is treated just as seriously as actually carrying it out yourself. You did it twice, before we get to pointing a gun at police officers.”
“No comment.”
“I thought you’d say that.”
“If the CPS turn this down, I’ll paint my arse blue and run through the retail park,” Lindleman said while picking a doughnut.
“No offence to the dead,” Sharma began, “but a small part of me now actually hopes they refuse it just to see that.”
“I thought you’d be repelled by the idea,” he shot back. Then realised “wait that doesn’t make me sound good does it. I mean of course you do! I am magnetic to people who like hot bodies.”
“You are certainly the biggest arsehole I know,” Sharma finished.
“I’m losing this aren’t I?”
“You really are. So, hurry up and pick a doughnut.”
There came a knock and the people in the Bunker turned. Sharma, Lindleman, Maruma, Grayling and Atkins looked expectantly at Wick, who was holding a phone to his ear. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then paused.
“Don’t play silly buggers,” Sharma told him.
“CPS say yes, will use all charges.”
The Bunker cheered and they all exchanged hugs. A major case had been cracked, and no additional people had died.
“I think you all deserve a break,” Wick said, “I want you all to take some time away from the Bunker. By which I mean go home now and come back tomorrow. Okay?”
“Yes boss!”
“And we know what us all being off at the same time means!” Lindleman cried.
“I know,” Sharma said, “Maruma, go get Susan.”
“Oh no, more pigs,” the front of house said as Grayling, Maruma and Susan walked in.
“Lovely to see you too,” Grayling replied with a wave.
“I suppose you want to sit in my restaurant and eat my food?”
“That is a concept which might just catch on.”
The newcomers went over and sat with Lindleman and Sharma.
“Are you ready to order pigs?” came the request.
“Yes,” Sharma said, “we want everything. One of everything. Bring us all the food.”
“Celebrations? You want celebration cake?”
The detectives all looked at each other. “Is that a thing?”
“It is new. We are trying it.”
“Then yes, one of them. So, Susan,” Sharma said turning her attention to the journalist. “You’ll be leaving us soon then?”
“Yes,” Susan said sadly. “Given the involvement of my sister, I will be stepping away from shadowing the police. I’ll write about my recent experiences, of course, but after that you won’t see as much of me.”
“That’s a shame,” Sharma replied, “I was getting used to having you around. It was like having an actual group of officers instead of our skeleton crew.”
“I didn’t actually do anything!” Susan protested.
“No, but you made the numbers up all right. That little morale boost of having a big team can be important.”
“You could always promote Atkins,” Susan suggested.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
Maruma leaned in. “What did you mean by ‘as much’? We’ll still see you?”
“Yes, look, I have the final article here, why don’t you read it and we’ll see what you think.”
She pulled out a tablet and they began to pass it round, reading it in their normal pairings. When they’d finished, they all smiled at each other and they let the DI do the talking. “So, I am very happy with the article, it shows we do a good job under tough conditions and reflects the fact it isn’t just tough because of the people in front of us, it’s due to the people above us too. Wick was pleased I gather?”
“Very.”
“Good. But I would also like to congratulate you on behalf of all the MCU on being made the newspapers dedicated court reporter. You, at the risk of sounding very wanky, fight the good fight.”
“That does sound wanky Sharma,” Lindleman pointed out. “But we know what you mean.”
“I also want to say thanks to you all too, I’ve had a very interesting time,” Susan said grinning.
“I mean you could have said good. Good would have worked too, interesting is sort of ‘not good but I don’t want to annoy you’.”
“Lindleman,” Grayling began, “I think the whole ‘sister nearly getting killed’ thing put the clappers on good.”
“Well everyone’s being picky today aren’t they. A few near-death experiences and hanging out with me isn’t fun anymore. I ask you.”
“What I wanted to say as well,” Susan said, “is let me pay for this meal as a thank you.”
“You probably wanted to say that before I ordered the whole menu,” the DI pointed out.
“No, no that’s fine, but you better buy your own drinks, court reporters don’t earn much.”
“Are you going to be allowed to report on Quince?” Maruma asked. “That’s going be one hell of a press circus.”
“In theory there’s a few issues with me doing that, but my paper isn’t one for worrying about ethics and I will indeed be reporting, as well as giving evidence.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Sharma noted. “But at least you’ll give an accurate picture of how it all came to this, not the hollering and hooting of the rest of the press.”
“Indeed, indeed,” they all chimed in.
“So, a toast then?” Susan said raising the bottle of water she’d walked in with. Everyone else picked up the drinks Sharma had got them.
“Yes, yes why not. Want to propose it?”
“To the Morthern detectives, may you always come through okay.”
“You could have said ‘catch your man’,” Lindleman pointed out.
“That’s probably copyrighted these days.”
“Well, may we always come through okay!”
THE END
The Morthern Detectives Return in Book 2: Gilded Hate Machine
Power and Control Page 25