Sitting down with a beer, Billy reached for the remote control to switch on the television. There wasn’t much else to do as a retired police officer. He’d thought about taking up a hobby. It seemed that hobby was drinking until he passed out and forgot all the shit he’d done to cause himself so much guilt and grief.
Just as the television came to life, there was a knock at the door. He got up to answer it and there were two of the officers from his station stood there, sullen expressions etched on their faces.
‘Jenkins, Whitler?’ he said. ‘What you two doing here?’
‘Billy, we need you to come down to the station.’
‘Can’t cope without me already? Christ, I’ve only been away a few weeks.’ He laughed but they didn’t share in his humour.
‘Billy, we’re sorry to have to do this,’ Jenkins said.
‘We’re arresting you for the murder of Brian Woods.’
Billy didn’t hear the rest of the spiel. The beer bottle slipped from his hand and smashed on the hardwood floor. His ex-colleagues cuffed him and led him out to the car.
In truth, he’d always known this day would come eventually. Jez had kept footage. It was bound to get out one day.
‘Mind your head there, Billy,’ Whitler said as he bent down to climb into the car.
He could plead innocence. But what was the point? Being arrested was almost like a release. He could finally stop living a lie, stop trying to cover his tracks. They’d get Jez eventually if they hadn’t already. There was every possibility that Billy could be sent back to Spain to be tried there. It was only what he deserved.
He was a killer. He was an ex-cop. Billy recalled the story Jez had told him about the officer who’d gone to prison and ended up in a wheelchair. He tried to block it out, but it hung around in the back of his mind.