Page 29 of Sullied Saints

"No, but we have a man with a broken nose and two black eyes in custody to prove it," Tawill informs us.

Standing up, I interrupt. "I know you need to issue some kind of reprimand…"

"Reprimand is putting it lightly, detective."

"I know that, but threats were being made. The guy was goading…"

"That’s no excuse for violence!" Tawill snaps. "We're supposed to be above that."

We all fall silent.

"She's right," Dirk puts in, voice strained.

Howie stares at him. "Youneedto be on this case."

Shrugging helplessly, Dirk gestures towards Tawill. "It's not up to me."

Her lips tighten. "It doesn't seem that you’re benefiting this case. Or this institution."

My heart sinks. Off the case, maybe even out of the job.

"Yet," Tawill puts in, perking all of our ears back towards her. Tawill's chest rises. "The fact remains you may know something about Cocooner, and her methods, that we didn’t know previously. It may be obvious, it may not. But..." and here she pauses, finally agreeing with Howie, "I agree that we need you… as a witness… on this case. We can put it down this once to your traumatic experience. You’ve scared the suspect enough that he’s afraid to press charges.”

I try not to smile at that news, imagining the creep snivelling in a corner, afraid of retribution from the guy who already broke his nose. “And Needler?” I ask, since technically Dirk laid hands on him too.

Tawill somehow looks even more unimpressed as she turns to me. “Tristanis pretending nothing happened. Say’s he has no recollection of anyone coming into his cell today.”

Obviously, he’s toying with us, Tawill knows it, but like she said, we can’t move him, and we need him in a similar vein to needing Dirk. Our best shots. I don’t know why we would have expected any differently from Needler. The question is why would he do that to spare Dirk? I’m confident fear isn’t the answer.

“Don't give me a reason to change my mind, officer," she says in final warning, then leaves.

***

By 5pm, we’re all slouched in our chairs, too many new arms of the mind map on the whiteboards for them to make any cohesive sense anymore. Dirk drags his hands down his face. "Fuck me, there's more of them."

That’s the conclusion we've come to. The laundromat is the first of what could, in the worst case—and this is Tregam, after all— be many. Howie sighs loudly.

Dean slumps over his desk. "Look, most of the people on that forum will just be there for the thrills of talking to Cocooner. They'd never actually go and act on the information she's doling out."

"We don’t need all of them," Howie points out. "It just takes one, or five, and then it’s one or five deaths—if they each stop after just one."

"And that’s not considering Cocooner herself," I put in, earning me tired looks. I shrug. "We can’t assume she's stopped." Nor has she left any breadcrumbs that could lead us to her, no hint on the forum of where she might be hiding out.

"Fuck me," Dirk groans again.

Howie gets up, heading for the door with Dean behind him. "On that happy note, folks, I'm off for a sleepless night."

I give a half-hearted wave. "I need to talk to Needler," I sigh, resting my face in my hands. All I want to do is go to sleep and wake up some place happier. Chloe takes her leave, and Dirk stands, picking up his jacket. "I'm going home," he says. "Nearly being suspended and learning about a half dozen new crazies is enough for one day."

I follow him to the door before he can open it. "Dirk, I hope it doesn't bother you… about Needler."

"That’s not what’s bothering me. It’s the psychopaths that are multiplying."

"So you're fine with me interviewing and all that…" I try. I haven't done this relationship thing in a while.

Dirk's gaze drops. He reaches out, fingers brushing my arm, his touch reinforcing his words. "I wish you'd been able to find out about your husband in another way, or hell, you'd just divorced that psycho, but he… Tristan, he’s helped you." I smile softly, and Dirk goes on, "But if you tell me he hurt or forced you in any way, I will go in there and beat the shit out of him, and maybe not stop there."

"He didn't," I say quickly. With a squeeze, I add, "Go home, I'll come over after if you want?"

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