Only the Dead Read Online Free PDF

first.’
    ‘It never gives me any lip.’
    He placed a bottle on the desk for Hale and pulled up a chair. Hale took the beer and dropped his feet off the desk. He stretched forward and palmed the moisture ring.
    Devereaux said, ‘What are we listening to?’
    ‘A nice nocturnal nocturne.’
    ‘Hah.’
    ‘Bob Dylan, “Love Sick”.’ He had some beer. ‘I shouldn’t have to tell you these things.’
    ‘I knew it was Bob.’
    ‘But forgot it was his romance malady melody.’
    ‘Very clever.’
    Devereaux sat down.
    Hale said, ‘What happened?’
    Devereaux gave him the full story. Hale watched the window as he listened. He said, ‘What are his chances?’
    ‘Of living?’
    ‘Or dying. Whichever way you want to look at it.’
    ‘I don’t know. He wasn’t in good shape.’
    Quiet between them. Hale’s desk phone rang. He ignored it.
    ‘Prognosis?’
    ‘I don’t know. Probably not brilliant.’
    A nod, a small sip. ‘Did he deserve it?’
    ‘Depends whether or not he makes it.’
    Hale’s feet reclaimed desk space. They touched down in neat tandem, beside the phone. A small shelf held The Satanic Verses by Salman Rushdie, and an anthology of Kipling’s poetry. ‘Hindsight’s irrelevant. You either deserve it at the time, or you don’t.’
    ‘I don’t know about that.’
    Hale ceiling-gazed for a spell. Down the corridor, the elevator chimed politely. He said, ‘Forthcoming luck shouldn’t sway whether you’re deserving of something in the here and now.’
    ‘Meaning?’
    ‘Meaning, whichever way it turns out doesn’t change the fact he needed to be shot when he was.’
    ‘Maybe he didn’t need shooting.’
    Hale had another sip. He said, ‘If he had a machete, I’d say he probably needed shooting.’
    Devereaux didn’t respond.
    ‘Who was he?’ Hale said.
    ‘ Is . He’s still alive. In theory.’
    ‘Who is he then?’
    ‘Just a suspect. I never met him.’
    ‘Robbery-related stuff?’
    Devereaux nodded.
    ‘You feel bad, even though you know nothing about him?’
    He nodded again. ‘I’d say that’s the normal response.’
    Hale nestled the beer in his lap and tilted it so he could look straight down its throat. ‘I only feel guilty about the people I know.’
    ‘Is that good or bad?’
    ‘I don’t know. Other way around, I’d be feeling pretty guilty.’
    Devereaux didn’t answer.
    Hale said, ‘How was debriefing?’
    ‘I don’t think they’re too impressed.’
    ‘Did you follow standard procedure?’
    ‘Not really.’
    ‘Who questioned you?’
    ‘Guy called Lloyd Bowen. You ever meet him?’
    Hale nodded. He thought for a moment. ‘Sharp as a paper cut,’ he said. ‘And just as unpleasant.’
    ‘Yeah. That’s Lloyd. Frank Briar was there too.’
    ‘Frankie. Everyone’s most reviled human.’
    Devereaux said, ‘Bowen asked if I was planning on quitting.’
    ‘What did you tell him?’
    ‘I said I wasn’t.’
    ‘But you are.’
    ‘Yeah. I don’t want them to try to nudge me out the door, though.’
    ‘That old “depart on your own terms” lark.’
    ‘Yeah. That.’
    ‘So who told him you’re thinking of packing it in?’
    ‘I don’t know. That’s the other thing. I need to be around long enough to find out who leaked, so I can kick their arse.’
    Hale smiled, looked at the window. ‘I wouldn’t worry about anything just yet.’
    ‘Yet.’
    ‘He’s still alive. Wait until he clocks out before you panic.’
    ‘Thanks.’
    They sipped in silence. Devereaux scored a crucifix through his beer label.
    Hale said, ‘Would you quit something, even if it was the one thing you were good at?’
    ‘I’m good at more than one thing.’
    ‘I know. But would you?’
    ‘You mean, would I rather be unhappy doing something I’m good at, or happy doing something I’m shit at?’
    He shook his head. ‘That wasn’t really my question, but it would certainly merit some pondering.’
    ‘It would.’
    Hale said, ‘I turned down some work