Then, when they inevitably failed to catch the serial killer in time to stop the next round of victims, Quinn could claim the Blue Moon team got in the way, messed with evidence, and ruined his chance of a successful conclusion.
It was genius. Quinn felt like giving a bow to acknowledge his boss’s clear thinking. The fact that the chief constable had issued no order on the subject further demonstrated how much Quinn still had to learn.
That was what it took to get to be the chief constable.
Invigorated anew, Chief Inspector Quinn returned to his office ready to do what had to be done. It went against the grain to let Tempest Michaels go now that he had a legitimate reason to see him serve at Her Majesty’s pleasure, however, the chance to use the daft paranormal investigator as a tool for his own advancement was too tempting.
Besides, maybe Tempest Michaels would lead him to the Sandman. It wouldn’t be the first time the private eye had defied the odds to solve a case.
Tempest. Cautioned and Released. Saturday, December 24th 1206hrs
The sleep I knew I ought to grab refused to come for many hours. Processed, stripped of my possessions, and stuffed into a cell in the back of Maidstone station, I was just about angry enough to chew my way out.
The ball of fury in my gut fought for space with the worry I felt for Jane. I’d never believed the Sandman would allow her to live through the night and nothing about that had changed. Held by him and probably unable to do anything about the situation she found herself in, I could do nothing but stew on my failings.
Sleep came eventually, the monotony of incarceration coupled with fatigue forcing my brain to shut down at some point well after midnight.
Quinn never came. His promise to interview us himself either a lie, or an excuse to make sure no one else did it. He would get to me when he was good and ready, that was the message. Had he gone home last night and slept in his own bed while I festered here?
I thought the answer was probably not. He was hard on the case of a serial killer and would want it to be seen that he was throwing himself at it. He would work longer hours and flog himself in a bid to prove his effort in the face of failure. And it would be considered a failure even if he now caught the Sandman because Jane and Jan would be dead.
I figured the time had to be something close to noon. The awful tray of lukewarm breakfast had been served many hours ago, an unpleasant young constable with a dour attitude had posted it through the slot and woke me from my slumber.
I asked him the time and got a stupid response in return.
‘Time you bought a watch,’ the man’s voice had echoed back along the corridor outside.
The tiny slit of hatch opened again now, a set of eyes visible as the officer outside checked to make sure I wasn’t poised to attack. To my surprise, the sound of the lock opening then followed.
‘Get up,’ a man’s voice commanded. ‘You’re being released.’
I shot off the bed. ‘Released?’
‘Yup. You’ll receive a formal caution first. The Chief Inspector wants to see you all.’
He stood to one side so I could leave the cell, his words reverberating in my ears as I slipped around the door. They were letting us go.
It made no sense. Quinn wanted to lock me up. He’d been waiting for a decent opportunity for ages. He had one two days ago and could have pursued the charge of firearms possession if he’d chosen to. Two days ago, we had been on better terms, but lying in my cell, I felt sure he would lump that charge in on top of the breaking and entering, wilful destruction of property and whatever else he could cobble together. It might not all stick, but enough of it would that I was looking at a jail sentence.
Now he was letting me go. I felt elated but also troubled by the news.
In the corridor that links the cells, I saw Big Ben being led away too. The officers took us from the cells and back into the police station proper where we were directed toward a row of interview rooms.
A sergeant I didn’t recognise was inside waiting for me. He dealt with the official task of reading me my caution and I had to sign to acknowledge that I understood it. With that done, we had to wait for Chief Inspector Quinn to arrive.
I was itching to get out, my legs twitching with impatience to get back to the task of finding the Sandman. Quinn kept me waiting. At least now there was a clock so I could see how much of my life he wasted.
At 1247hrs, he finally waltzed into the room, a breezy smile on his face and a cup of tea in his right hand. He was taking a sip as he closed the door. It made me want to slap the mug across the room. Or maybe see if I could punch it clear through to the other side of his skull.
‘Mr Michaels, I appreciate your patience.’
‘No, you don’t,’ I argued. ‘What are you up to?’ When he shot me an innocent face, I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘I know you too well to believe you have the slightest concern about making me wait. Usually you do
