By Mark Billingham
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Brings them cold drinks now and again, or a few cut-up oranges. She takes Jason's hand and nods towards the bridge, a hundred yards ahead and to the left. They move quickly towards it. Normally they'd have come the other way, through the entrance opposite her own place, which would have taken them across the bridge on the way in. There would not have been any climbing on plastic chairs and scrambling over her friend's garden fence. But this was not a normal day. When she looks around again, she can see the man on the far side of the football pitch.
He laughed again, seeing that Thorne was doing his best not to. ' Thorne asked. Holland shook his head. ' He leaned down and spat into a drain. 'Stupid really, 'cause I'm bloody sure she knows. ' Holland and his girlfriend were another couple who had been talking about getting out of London, and about Holland giving up the Job. Thorne wondered if that was something else that was not being mentioned for fear of reigniting an argument. He had always been convinced that Holland should stay where he was, but he would never have said so.
And by the body they had leaked from. 'I think I'm about ready to turn her,' Phil Hendricks said. In the corner, a crime scene investigator was scraping at the edge of a low cupboard. She barely glanced up. ' Hendricks grinned and gave the woman the finger, then looked around and asked Thorne if he wanted to come closer. To squeeze in where he could get a better view. Thorne doubted that the view would get any better, but he walked across and placed himself between the still- and video-camera operators, opposite the pair of CSIs who were preparing to give Hendricks the help he needed.