Material Evidence (A Jack Carston Mystery Book 1) by Bill Kirton

Author:Bill Kirton [Kirton, Bill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-18T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Back at the station, as they went along the corridor towards the squad room, they were surprised to hear McNeil’s voice yelling ‘Fuck off, Spurle.’ Carston opened the door and the scene in the room froze for both of them. McNeil was standing beside the photocopier, Spurle was facing her, Fraser was sitting on the edge of one of the desks and Bellman was behind another desk in a corner. A sudden silence had fallen over it all.

‘What the bloody hell’s going on?’ said Carston.

‘Nothing sir,’ said McNeil, her white face making it very clear that something was.

Carston looked at Ross, motioned with his head for him to come into his office, turned back to the others and said, ‘Right. Spurle, McNeil, in here.’

He went back inside. Without looking at one another, the two constables followed him, McNeil moving quickly, the anger that had made her shout still evident, and Spurle affecting an air of troubled innocence. With a look at Fraser and Bellman, Ross went in after them, closed the door and stood beside it.

Carston sat at his desk, gave each of the two constables standing in front of it a long look, then asked quietly, ‘Right. What’s it all about?’

McNeil stared ahead of her and said, ‘I lost my temper, sir. Sorry.’

Spurle was looking at Carston.

‘My fault, sir,’ he said.

Carston waited. There was silence.

‘Look, stop pissing me about,’ he said. ‘What’s going on. I don’t have time for playground games.’

Spurle shook his head slowly to suggest that this was all a fuss about nothing and said, ‘It was about Fraser’s French, sir. I made a wee joke.’

‘It wasna a joke,’ snapped McNeil.

‘Let me decide that,’ said Carston, his tone as sharp as hers. He nodded his head at Spurle for him to go on. Spurle looked embarrassed.

‘Just eel’s for men and elle’s for women, sir.’

Carston looked at him, waiting for more. Spurle’s embarrassment thickened. His voice dropped as he explained his feeble joke.

‘Fraser was telling us that and I said, right enough, women was hellish.’ He stopped, shrugged.

‘And that was it?’ said Carston. Spurle shrugged again.

‘Well, Julie got a wee bit…’

‘Who’s Julie?’ interrupted Carston.

Spurle hesitated, looked at him.

‘McNeil, sir,’ he said.

‘Say so then,’ snapped Carston.

‘Yes, sir,’ said Spurle, still with no idea of what Carston was getting at. ‘Well, sir, McNeil was a wee bit upset, and I just… well, I was taking the mickey, sir. I was out of order.’

Carston looked at McNeil.

‘What’s your story?’ he said.

‘That’s it, sir,’ she said. ‘Just like Spurle said. I lost the head.’

Fleetingly, Carston wondered if this was a time-of-the-month reaction, then realised that that was probably exactly the sort of thing that Spurle had said. He knew that he wouldn’t get any more out of them and recognised that, in the face of his authority, they’d at least managed to team up on the same story. For the time being, their solidarity before him had overcome their differences.

‘Right,’ he said. ‘Spurle, no more of this crap. I don’t care how bloody macho you are, don’t bring it in here.

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