Good Cop Bad Cop by Simon Kernick

Good Cop Bad Cop by Simon Kernick

Author:Simon Kernick
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Headline
Published: 2021-11-10T16:00:00+00:00


32

Tonight

Teller

Sketty finishes speaking. He’s told this part of the story in a manner that’s fast and furious, and I can tell that he’s genuinely reliving the events of that night. No one – no one – is that good an actor.

He takes a deep breath, sits – no, almost slumps – back in his chair as if the recollection has taken it out of him, and stares at me with a pain in his eyes that looks so real, it demands that you believe him. It’s what’s so disarming about this man. He looks as he sounds. Like one of the good guys.

‘And that’s how it happened,’ he says at last. ‘My best friend, Ty Quelch, died of his injuries, as I’m sure you know. He was wearing a ballistic vest, but he took a bullet in the eye. One of ten innocent people killed that night. And many injured.’

‘Including yourself,’ I say, giving him a sympathetic look.

‘Yes,’ he answers. ‘Including myself. I was hit by a single round in the hip, which caused a major fracture and eventually resulted in traumatic osteoarthritis and a shortening of the left leg. I’ve walked with a limp ever since. And do you know what? I don’t know about you’ – he nods towards my wheelchair – ‘but whenever I dream, I’m always able to walk normally, or even run. It’s like none of this ever happened.’

That’s another thing about Sketty. He draws you in like the best salesman. Finds shared experiences for you to talk about. Feigns interest.

‘I’m the same,’ I say with a rueful smile, pretending it’s working. ‘It’s as if a part of our brain refuses to accept what’s happened to us. But it makes it painful to wake up and have to accept reality once again.’ I sigh. ‘Thank you for sharing your recollection of that night with me. I know it must be hard to recount it.’

‘I relive it in my head all the time. Always wondering why I did what I did. I was mad running into that restaurant, and keeping up the chase like that. I should have just left it. There’s not a day that goes by when I don’t regret it.’

‘I can understand that,’ I say, and an image of dear, beautiful Victoria comes into my head. ‘There’s not a day that goes by when I don’t think about that night either. I lost the love of my life in Villa Amalfi.’

Sketty nods. ‘I know. I remember you telling me in the email.’

‘The Villa Amalfi was one of the worst terrorist atrocities in British history. It was also a terrible intelligence failure.’

‘I did what I could,’ he tells me, his expression hardening.

‘Yes. But there have always been so many questions unanswered. That’s why I’ve spent the fourteen years since searching for the truth.’

‘And I’ve been as truthful as I can. I’ve even told you about my part in the killing of Kerry Masters. No one else in the whole world knows about that.’

Which isn’t entirely true.



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