48 #TheNewVic

‘I have a Mr Cooper on the line for you, captain,’ the department secretary said, calling through to Sorrell’s office.

Finally, Sorrell thought to himself. The captain decided to ditch the charm offensive this time as he was fed up dancing to Cooper’s tune.

‘You got a name for me Colin?’ Sorrell said without any preamble.

‘I’ve got a name for you. Cliff Walker,’ Cooper replied, knowing he had wrong-footed the captain.

‘And just who the hell is Cliff Walker?’ the captain said, losing his cool.

‘He’s one of our longest serving porters. Nice old guy. Never forgets a face. It’s his thing. He’s also dead. I’m standing in his apartment right now. Don’t worry, I’ve touched fuck all. But he’s been wasted. His brains are everywhere,’ Cooper said in the matter-of-fact fashion of a man who has seen many dead bodies.

Sorrell’s head went into overdrive. The porter’s death had to be connected to the Horrigan case. All the staff members who had been on duty that night had all been interviewed. But Cliff Walker must have witnessed something that hadn’t aroused suspicion at the time. Either that or Cooper was clearing up some loose ends.

‘Stay exactly where you are, Colin. We’ll need to bring you in and this time you’re gonna need that lawyer,’ Sorrell warned.

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever. But I didn’t take out Cliff. You have my word on that. And fifty dollars says ballistics match the bullets to the Bryce shooting,’ Cooper said with his usual over-confidence.

Sorrell had no reason to doubt him. He slammed the phone down and hollered at the top of his voice, ‘HAYE, GET IN HERE.’