Page 107 of The Rat

“Inspector… Hamish?”

Rory nodded, then looked down at theletter in his hand.

“I wrote youthis. Itexplains everything. What I did, how I feel about you. Read it,you’ll never see me again, I swear. I’m gonna go away—”

“I don’t wanta letter.”

Rory scrunched up his face. “Please,please read it.”

“No.”

Rory shoved it through thehatch. “You have totake it, I have to apologize, I have toexplain.”

“I don’t want yourapology.”

Rory flapped the letter. “Takeit.”

Sebastian snatched it from hishand, then tore the letter in half, then into four, then intoeighths, then he threw the pieces back throughthe door. “If you really want toexplain, you’ll talk to me, you’ll explain to me while I can seeyou. While I can talk back.”

Rory licked his lips.“Okay…I—”

“No. Not here. Not where there’speople listening, and I’m trapped in a box. Friday. Meet meoutside theprison.”

“What?”

“Bethere.” Sebastian mumbled. “Then I’ll hearyou out.”

He moved away from the hatch and laydown on the mattress on the floor.

“Sebastian…”

“That’s enoughnow, Rory,”The governor whispered, “You gave him the letter, he didn’t wantit, now it’s time to go home.”

Rory got to his feet.“Home.”

****

Rory leaned against the walloutside the prison. He knew he should ask reception to call him acab, and go back to his flat, but he couldn’t. His mind had slammedthe breaks on, and he was stuck, lost in a pit of his own making, with noclue how to climb out of it.

He had to go back to his flat,he had to contact the hospital, and make arrangements for Erica,but he couldn’t even motivate himself to get a cab, let alone tryto accept theloss of his sister. It wouldn’t matter anyway, he’d be deadby Saturday.

A suited man stepped out thereception door, and immediately dropped all his files. He cursed,got down on his knees, and began collecting them. Rory stared atall the scattered papers, and folders.

The man gotto his feet, slotted the filesunder his armpit, then glared at Rory. “So you could’vehelped…”

Rory blinked out of his depressivestate.

“What?”

The skin at the top of the man’snose dented with a frown. His eyes were brown,the same shade as the hair onhis head, and his cheeks were sprinkled with faintfreckles.

“I dropped all my stuffover the ground, and you stood there and stared.”

“I’m sorry, I—can Ihelp?”

“I’m okay now, thanks, but what aboutyou?”

“Huh?”

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