Caroline Akunin looked up at her. Misunderstanding her tears. 'I'm sorry. I have to ask.'
'That's okay, Caroline. It was three weeks ago.'
Caroline nodded. 'I am going to take some swabs, is that okay?'
Kate nodded. Her body was already feeling like it was something apart from her once more. Distancing herself from her feelings, something she had learned at a young age. Something she had lived with for years until Delaney had made her feel connected with her body again. Now she felt violated and ashamed and wretched. But most of all, she felt angry.
A buzzing sound then a sharp ring. Kate looked across at her mobile phone that was vibrating on Jane Harrington's desk. 'You better pass that to me, Caroline. I told the office to call me only if it was really urgent.'
Delaney looked at the bloodshot eyes of Martin Quigley. Eyes that darted nervously back and forth. Eyes that squirmed under his scrutiny with pain and with fear. His right arm was suspended in a sling and covered with plaster. His fingers, that were visible, flexed nervously. His lower jaw was covered with wire and metal and held immobile. He grunted through the metal but quite clearly couldn't speak. He was a large man, somewhere in his forties. His nose had been broken many times in the past, and the home-made tattoos on his neck would quickly dispel any lingering suspicions that this man was employed in white-collar work.
Delaney didn't know the man, but he knew the type. Bruisers who communicated with their knuckles. Strong-arm men for cleverer criminals. A foot soldier, cannon fodder, a gorilla just like Kevin Norrell. He moved around the side of the bed, closer to him. 'You attacked Kevin Norrell, and I want to know why.' The man grunted again, an animal in pain. Delaney couldn't make out what he was saying.
Sally Cartwright took out a pad and a pen and held it out to Quigley's good hand. He flicked his broken-veined eyeballs to the left, where she stood, then back at Delaney and grunted again, but made no move to take the pen or notebook.
Delaney smiled at him. 'You taking what our American cousins would call the fifth, Quigley?'
Quigley glared at him with defiance in his eyes and didn't move.
Delaney glanced over at Sally. 'Give him the pen, Sally.'
Sally put the pen in his left hand but he made no move to hold it. Delaney reached over, put his own hand over Quigley's broken one and pulled it. Quigley grunted, loudly, his face red with pain and tears starting in his eyes. Delaney released his grip. 'He'll take the pen now.'
This time Quigley held the pen. Sally put her notebook under it so that he could write.
'Why'd you attack him, Quigley?'
Quigley wrote one word. The scrawl was nearly undecipherable but Sally could just make it out. 'He's written 'Nonce', sir.'
Delaney looked at Quigley. 'You saying you attacked Norrell because he was a paedophile?'
Quigley grunted an affirmative.
'Who put you up to it?'
Quigley grunted again and wrote some more. Sally read it out again. 'He says no one.'
'Just doing your civic duty, were you?'
Quigley grunted again, trying to keep his head as still as possible. Sally looked over at her boss. 'Do you believe him?'
'I don't know.' Delaney smiled at her then tugged on Quigley's hand again. Quigley's breath hissed through the metal mask of his teeth and he gurgled in pain. Delaney let go of his hand. 'You telling me the truth, Martin?'
Quigley's eyes pleaded with Delaney, his gurgling
