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term Burke was fairly certain he was trying to make
catch on. The man himself gave off a sombre air, with plenty of
implied annoyance at having to do this, though it was obvious to
anyone with the mental capacity to breathe and stand upright at the
same time that he was loving it. He just lived for moments like
these. Probably paced round his room in the small hours addressing
the assembled masses from his own private version of the world
stage.
    Burke did not
love it. Maybe it was a dim view of human nature brought about by
too much time investigating the inherent flaws, but he got the
sense the press were out for blood. He sat, sandwiched between Gray
who proudly wore his best ill-fitting suit, and Superintendent
Steele who was doing her best to look sombre, in tune with the mood
of the day and not like someone who saw things largely in the form
of figures and stats.
    “ Is there any
truth in the rumour that the two killings are connected?” asked an
ageless hack who looked a lot like the crazy frog.
    “ We’re
keeping an open mind at this time,” Gray replied, looking to his
superior for reassurance that this was what he was allowed to say.
“Best to keep thinking outside the box.”
    Pity the head
hadn’t been found in a box, Burke thought. That would have
scuppered him. He couldn’t resist a smile at this but was woken
from his smug satisfaction by a glare from Steele. It would not
have surprised him if it had burned.
    “ Is this
connected to the large amount of cocaine that’s been hitting the
streets?” asked a woman with a film crew in tow and an unmoving
forehead.
    “ We are
pursuing multiple lines of enquiry,” Gray parroted.
    “ Meaning, you
don’t know where to start?” asked a nasal voice from a red faced
white haired man in a corduroy jacket with an outstretched hand and
a dictophone.
    “ Meaning,”
Steele interjected forcefully, “we are pursuing multiple lines of
enquiry.”
    “ Who is
responsible for the spike in drug related crime in the city?” asked
the woman with the botoxed brow.
    “ We’re ehm,”
Gray began, looking at Steele like a dog might view its owner after
ruining the carpet with one of its bodily functions “not here to
discuss drug related crime. Best to stay on topic I think.” He took
a deep breath, before evidently picking a spot on the wall behind
the congregation of local media, focussing and beginning his
sermon. “This isn’t necessarily about the well-publicised war on
drugs. It isn’t about a crime wave or statistics or how well we’re
doing and it isn’t about what a victim may or may not have done. In
each case it’s about someone’s son, someone’s partner, possibly
even someone’s father. It’s about stopping this happening again,
not for the statistics or the clear up rates but for the safety of
the public. If anyone knows anything or knows anyone who knows
anything, no matter how inconsequential it might seem, we would ask
that they please come forward and share this information with us as
soon as possible. This could have been your partner, your father,
your son and if we don’t sort this out and bring the perpetrator or
perpetrators to justice it could be next time.”
    Give me strength Burke
thought as someone at the back of the room did a mocking hand
clap.
    Gray had his sound bite.
Within a couple of hours it would be on the news in people’s living
rooms as they chomped on their TV dinners. It may even put them off
their TV dinners.
    Address over,
the boss rose from his seat, jerking his head forward in an
affirmative manner and adjusting his jacket so it hung off him in a
forwards direction before triumphantly leaving the room.
    Burke caught
Steele’s gaze as she made to exit and thought he saw her stifling
an eye roll.
    He followed
the pair down the corridor as the media scrum headed out the door
on the other side of the room. They regrouped in Steele’s office,
neither man wanting to sit down as the Detective Superintendent
stared