Page 25 of Pure Killers

“No.”

“They got the plaster off in the morgue.” Dirk almost visibly shudders. “Of all the nutjobs in this city, he’s the most fucked up. Gives me nightmares. The way he takes his time and wraps them up like that, alive and well until the final piece to drown in.”

I eye Dirk sidelong. A softly waved lock of hair flops across his brow as he idly nudges at a rock with the toe of his boot. He’s sat close enough beside me that his wide shoulder brushes mine,and I feel that I should move away, but I don’t. “I didn’t know it got to you.”

He shrugs, as though it’s nothing. “We’ve all got something, right? I’d just hate to know what was coming like that. That my final state was gonna be as some asshole’s ‘art’.”

Taking a breath, I can’t disagree with him. “People think it’s a copycat.”

Dirk’s glance is sharp, then he gives a humourless laugh. “That didn’t take long.”

“So you’d heard that. Why didn’t you mention it to me? We were just talking about the theories.”

“I don’t know,” he sighs, looking away. “I knew what it would mean to you. That his death wasn’t for nothing, right?”

“Well…” I trail off. Who knew he knew me so well?

“I just didn’t want to give you something like that just to have it taken away.”

With a deep breath, I slide off the wall. “Okay, I’m gonna head home.”

He’s peering at me, a slight frown between his brows. “Are you angry at me?”

“No. Really, I’m not. I just… I’m tired. And I think I’ve gotten all I can from this excursion.”

"Alright. Give me ten minutes, and I'll walk you home."

Usually, I'd wave off the offer. But with the certain individual who keeps showing up lately…

"Ten minutes?" I ask.

"There's one more avenue to explore."

I follow his eye to a stripper doing the rounds, trying to pull some sad sod into getting a hundred-dollar lap dance.

"Can't you get lap dances on your own time?" I ask.

Dirk gives me a cheeky look. "Strippers hear plenty. Who's more likely to brag and spill something than a guy with an ass in his face?"

I give a sweet smile. "It seems like you could be the one to answer that question." He snorts. I take a jab. "How does Yolana feel about your evidence-gathering tactics?" I ask, naming his current… something.Girlfriendis not quite the word. I've met her once, and that was because she happened to be coming out of his building at the same time that I picked him up for work one day. Nice girl, though none of them last more than a handful of sparse months before they work out they're wasting their time going for anything more than a semi-frequent sleepover with him. Then he’s usually single for a few months until another woman decides to have a go at making him into husband material.

Dirk snorts. "We're not exactly headed for the altar. Besides," he says, always keen to change the subject away from his lady friends. Which, to be fair, there’s only been three that I know of since we became partners. "You really want to talk about not doing things by the book?"

I cringe. Tawill doesn't know about my midnight escapade, just like she's not going to know about this one.

"Fine, whatever. Just make it quick."

***

Tawill looks up at me slowly as I take the seat across from her at her desk. I wasn't invited in.

"Commissioner."

"Are you here to tell me the real reason you took a week off last month?"

I resist pulling a face. "No."

"Hm." Her attention cuts back to the paperwork she was perusing. I can hardly blame her. Managing a bunch of detectives must be akin to running a camp for reformed alcoholics. Except most of us aren't reformed.

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