Human Frailty, a Detective Mike Bridger novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

trouble, might have to take
the next couple of days off. Not a bad thing though, I know how you
hate early shifts".
    "We'll see", she replied standing up.
    That is the second time tonight I have
felt detached from the scene, she thought to herself, I need a
break.
    Breathing in and looking around her from her
standing position, she saw various intoxicated people in handcuffs
sitting against the wall. An eclectic group of specimens found only
in the darkness of night. The tide had gone out and left everything
behind that was to slow to realize the difference. She saw her
colleagues talking to some very intoxicated Detectives; one had his
tie wrapped around his head like a bandana.
    "Don't tell me Mike ’ s lot ended up here, were
they involved in this? ”
    "I don't think so from what they are
saying," Grant replied, "But they are pretty pissed".
    "Is Mike with them? ”
    "Darren saw him slipping off into the
darkness with a certain blonde lawyer just after it all went pear
shaped. He's married isn't he? ”
    "Does that stop any man when he's pissed",
Gillian said.
    "Hey I don't play around on my girlfriend
when I'm drinking", Steve said with mock offence, “If anything it
makes me want her more the drunker I get".
    "You're a saint Steve", Gillian replied, her
mind already on the paperwork ahead as well as what to do with Mr.
Sutcliffe and his abusive wife.
    Looking at her watch the time was ten
minutes past one in the morning, they were supposed to have knocked
off at ten o’clock the previous evening, it was turning out to be a
long night.
     
     
     

Chapter Three
     
    He could hear the phone quietly
ringing somewhere in the distance, the ring tone was
Beethoven ’ s
ninth symphony, a fitting tune for the warm comfortable place he
had found himself on the sand to watch the waves crash on the
beach.
    Bloody cell phones can let people reach you
anywhere, he thought.
    The ringing got louder, the waves
started to disappear into the horizon. Left in their place was a
feather duvet wafting up and down in front of his face. “ Your phone is
ringing ” ,
the duvet was telling him in a singsong female voice. He opened his
eyes fully just as the duvet settled on top of him, looking around
with a start at the vaguely familiar surroundings. He saw a shapely
half-naked figure walking out through a door on the other side of
the room.
    He tried to sit up, his head protested and
his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. The ringing got
louder, its piercing screech drilling into the hangover making
itself at home in his head. He followed the sound to the side of
the bed and saw his cell phone vibrating itself across the bare
wooden floorboards.
    Picking it up he could see the caller
display showing a private number, reminding him painfully that he
was supposed to be at work. Perhaps that last drink offered last
night was not such a good idea, then when had it ever been a good
idea to mix beer with whiskey.
    He pulled himself out of his lethargy and
stood up unsteadily. Jaded memories of last night flashed in the
damaged synapses of his aching brain. Pressing answer, he mumbled
something unintelligible into the mouthpiece.
    "Mike Bridger? You ’ re not the person I expected
to hear on the phone this morning". The voice was raspy but
unnaturally chirpy. "The way you were putting them away last night
I'm surprised you ’ re still alive. Have you even been home yet
or did you sleep in the bar?" There was some chuckling followed by
a coughing fit.
    "I pulled the weekend duty shift John,
but you already knew that. That ’ s why you’re calling me, what do you
want?"
    "I guess it's not every day you get to
celebrate a promotion is it Mike, but you looked as if you were
celebrating for two last night, I don't know how Laura puts up with
you. She must be a saint".
    Bridger tried to swallow through his dry
mouth. He remembered Laura had called his cell phone in the very
early hours of the morning. She was ‘just wondering’ when he