Blood & Breakfast by William Stafford

Author:William Stafford
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: crime, humour, detective, murder, mystery, whodunit, fantasy, police, Nordic noir, Scandinavian, thriller, The Killing, Norse mythology, funny, Dudley, local history, policing, spoof, parody, The Bridge
ISBN: 9781782341062
Publisher: Andrews UK Limited 2012
Published: 2012-06-29T00:00:00+00:00

Raid

It’s all right for him, Melanie Miller grumbled to herself. Single bloke, no responsibilities. He can work late at the drop of a police helmet. Others - by which I mean me - ain’t so privileged.

She chewed a fingernail while she waited for her mother to pick up the phone. There’d be no point booking a manicure with this investigation going on. She’d only end up cancelling. She could imagine the arched, sculptured eyebrows of Sheba, her manicurist, curving upwards in some inscrutable expression, the rest of her face hidden by her white cloth mask.

Miller calculated the number of rings it would take for her mother to realise the landline phone was ringing, haul herself from the armchair, cross the living room, open the door, launch herself into the hall with her walking frame rebounding from the door jamb, reach the telephone on the hall table and perform the balancing act that allowed her to support herself on the Zimmer and pick up the receiver.

“Hello,” her mother spoke in what she imagined was a posh accent and then recited the telephone number as though it identified her.

“Mum, it’s me,” Miller began.

“Mel’s not here; she’s out,” said her mum.

“WAIT!” Mel panicked, hoping to avert being cut off. It was one thing to be connected and yet another to actually get through to her mother. “It’s me. This is Mel.”

“Hello, Mel,” said her mother, in that impatient tone that suggested she was keen to hobble back to her quiz show.

“I’m working late tonight, Mum. So I’ll get my own tea. And if you could give Jerry his tuna - there’s some open in the fridge so you won’t have to mess about with the tin opener. You won’t forget, will you, Mum? I don’t want to find he’s done another dirty protest on my duvet.”

“Mel’s not here,” said her mother. The line went dead.

D.S. Miller sighed and slipped her mobile into her handbag. She dared to linger a moment or two longer in the Ladies in order to primp in the mirror. Not that the new detective inspector would notice. Not that anyone ever noticed. She could smear her faces with the contents of Jerry’s litter tray and no one would blink.

“Come on, Melanie love,” she looked her reflection in the eye. “Professional face, professional head space. Let’s catch this bugger.”

She clicked her tongue as though geeing a horse and left to join Brough in the incident room. It was going to be a long night.

***

Brough walked through Reception, wishing they’d hurry up and give him his access code for the door at the back. He was clutching a paper bag already developing shiny patches where the grease of his cheese and onion pasty was coming through. Not the best thing for him to be putting into his body, he was well aware of that. He resolved to do a few extra turns of the park near his flat at the earliest opportunity.

“Sir!” Trevor Dobley called from behind the desk. He was pulling on a padded anorak.

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