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Enigmatic Ensemble (Excerpt) |
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“Where
is it you’re off to, Brian? Costa Rica? Tomorrow, isn’t it?” Tony, another
detective in the homicide division, asked.
“Puerto Rico. Tomorrow. Friends of ours, Naomi and Rory
Brinwell, have just come back from there and highly recommend it. An island in the
Caribbean. Molly has been making all the arrangements,” Brian replied as he tidied
up his desk, thankful he wouldn’t be seeing it again for a month. Considering his
destination, Tony expected Brian’s voice to hold more enthusiasm, but with Chet
Henroy getting out of prison and their most recent case a family dispute that ended in
tragedy, Tony knew Brian was sinking into a depression they were both finding hard to
avoid.
“I’m glad
you’re getting out of the country for a month. If Chet’s going to surface, it’s
just as well you be rested up before you hear from him again, in case he decides to
carry out his threats.”
“I should have killed him,” Brian said through
clenched teeth. His face would have sent shivers up the back of any normal person.
“He’s just going to do it again. You know it. I know it. The department knows it.
Only the justice system believes he deserves another chance on the outside with
so-called civilized people.”
“And we both know there’s no point in dwelling on it,
Brian. It’s the way to insanity,” Tony reminded him. “Our job is to solve the
crime and bag the bad guys. We can’t help what they do with the garbage after
that.”
Brian ran his
fingers through his hair and sighed deeply. “I know. But I’m not sure how much
longer I can live with it. Time after time, we know we’ve just postponed rather than
eliminated the problem. I’ve lost my enthusiasm for this job, Tony. I’ve had it.
I’m ready to quit.” Brian slumped down in his chair and gazed off into nowhere.
Tony took his
feet off his desk, got up, and went over to Brian. Neither man was particularly
demonstrative, but now Tony put his arm on Brian’s shoulder. “I’ve seen that
coming, guy, what with Chet out. It reminds you too much of what he is and what he
did. But don’t do anything rash now. Go and have your holiday. Maybe when you return
you’ll feel differently—be able to cope with it all again. Come on.” He punched
Brian’s arm. “Up and out. Go home and pack.”
Brian got up
from his chair. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ll get lucky and someone will bump
the guy off while I’m gone. I don’t think I’ll be able to resist doing it myself
if I ever see him again.”
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