Page 37 of Pure Killers

"Jesus, taking the day off, huh? You got a real shiner there." Olivia lifts a lock of hair off my temple.

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna stay home for the rest of the week." Not least to avoid explaining that bruise to anyone. There's only so much that makeup can cover, after all. And, to avoid looking anyone in the eye until I fully comprehend what I agreed to last night. Jesus, how could I… and withhim? He must be just toying with me, he can’t actually think…

Olivia is stepping past me, starting the coffee machine. "There's leftovers in the fridge. You want me to stay home and take care of you?"

"No, but thank you. I just need to make a call, then I'm going back to sleep."

"Okay, call if you need anything. And put some ice on that!"

By the time the front door taps closed, I’ve grabbed the phone off the wall and dialled Dirk, but now I wait with my thumb on the call button. His arm… he would have been in hospital when… but it was only a graze.No, I tell myself,stop that.

But I can’t, the thoughts out of the bottle now. Was Needler favouring one arm? Vaguely, I recall him tossing the mad woman at the window with only one arm. But remembering anything else elicits rememberingeverythingelse, his mouth,his words, the deal. Collecting. What’s the price of a deal with the devil?

I press the receiver against my forehead. It’s quite cool. Apparently fucking Dirk was thesecondto last thing I should be doing. Supposing he's not… I pull the phone back.

He's not.

There must be a special circle of hell for widows who make nondescript deals with their husband's killer to get out of being connected to a crime scene. And another circle, just for me, for the ones who are detectives and should know better.

Dirk answers on the second ring. “El, are you alright?”

“I, uh… yeah. I was calling to check on you.”

“They found a body, fallen from Cadden’s office. You didn’t go there, did you? I haven’t mentioned it to Tawill.”

“No, I went straight home.” I wince. And a whole deeper circle for the killer-fucking detectives who lie to their partners. “Who… who was it?”

“Sharna Wells,” he says, confirming what Needler knew. “Nurse, suspected accomplice of Greg Talisof. But when he didn’t rat anybody out, we assumed he’d been working alone after all. We don’t know what the connection between her and the politician was, though. Except…”

“Needler.”

“Yeah.”

“Shit. Listen…” I start.

“Hey, stay home today.”

“Uh.” I blink, having just been about to make an excuse to do that very thing. “Why?”

“The reporters are out in force. And they’ve got blood on their minds. This Sharna Wells, she’d have stayed out free if not for her nose-dive out of the office window. There’s a bit of hate, well, a bitmorehate around for time and resources being spent on the Needler while the granny-killer’s sugar-mom was on the loose.”

“You mean hate for me,” I assert.

Dirk hesitates. “It’ll pass.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll stay in. I have a headache anyway. How’s the arm?”

“Just a nick, like I said. Barely even got to the hospital before they let me go home.”

“Interesting.”

“Waste of time, more like.”

That makes me chuckle. “That’s not how most people react to being shot.”

“Eh, done it once, done it a million times. Alright El, gotta go. Watch some trash TV for me.”

Trash TV and falling asleep on the couch turns out to be a much better alternative to sitting and staring at a wall, not to mention thinking too much. But by midday, numbed on headache pills, I’m antsy.

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