Chapter Twelve

Kowalski had just returned to his desk when he heard Begley and Anderson come in. He sipped from a cup of tepid brown liquid alleged to be coffee by the machine that had dispensed it. It was lying. He wondered why he even bothered.

His mind drifted back to Patrick, yet again. He was upset the man was missing. He liked him. Kowalski thought back to the many times he’d been called to the front desk expecting a tourist reporting a lost phone, a drunken assault or some ice addict halfway to Mars in his head, only to be pleasantly surprised to find Patrick wanting some information on or off the record. There was usually a laugh to be had when O’Shaughnessy was involved. Kowalski shuddered at the thought of Patrick floating around out there, waiting to be rescued. Hopefully he’d be found quickly, as daylight was running out.

Through the door of his office, Kowalski saw the front of the red surfboard appear as Anderson lugged it down the corridor towards the evidence room. The board’s horrid gash panned into view and a deep apprehension took hold of him. He stood up and yelled, ‘Anderson!’

The ravaged board reappeared, and Anderson propped it up against the wall. Kowalski stared at the sickening sight, suddenly feeling bilious. He felt a phantom pain in his leg, as if the shark had attacked him, not Patrick.

‘Anderson, why the hell didn’t you didn’t call me? I’ve been in there talking to his daughter.’

Rather than answer, Anderson stared blankly at the floor.

‘Any sign of him?’

Anderson shook his head.

‘Get that thing out of here before she sees it.’

Anderson collected the board and disappeared down the corridor just as Begley strode into Kowalski’s office. Before Begley had a chance to speak, a scream filled the station, reverberating around the walls. They both ran for the corridor.

Caitlin had collapsed on the floor and was howling, ‘Noooooooo.’

Jack emerged into the corridor and ran to Caitlin. He bent down and placed a hand on her shoulder.

She shrieked at Jack, ‘Get your hands off me!’

Jack kneeled beside her.

‘I said get your hands off me, now.’

Begley reflexively reached for his holster, unfastened the retaining strap, grabbed the handle of his pistol and yelled at Jack, ‘Move away from her, now!’

Jack turned towards them, saw Begley’s hand on his pistol, and put his hands up.

Kowalski called to Begley, ‘Sir, I’ve got this.’ He moved in front of Begley so Caitlin couldn’t see the gun. ‘It’s okay,’ he said to her gently.

Caitlin resumed sobbing. ‘No, please, no.’

Anderson stood transfixed with the surfboard still under his arm.

Kowalski called to him, ‘I told you to get that thing out of here.’

Anderson didn’t move.

Kowalski yelled again, ‘Anderson!’

It was loud enough this time to attract the constable’s attention, and he scurried away with the board.

Kowalski turned to Begley and saw the confusion on his face. ‘I don’t think you’ll need the gun, sir.’

‘Who the hell are these people?’ asked Begley, releasing his grip on his weapon. ‘Are these the two you arrested at Patrick’s house?’

Caitlin spat, ‘I’m not under arrest.’

Begley turned to Kowalski. ‘You found them breaking into a house and you didn’t arrest them? What were you thinking? Is it okay to burgle houses now?’

Caitlin asked, ‘Where is my father? Why aren’t you out looking for him?’

Kowalski said, ‘This is Caitlin O’Shaughnessy, sir. Patrick’s daughter. She was looking for her father up at the house.’

There was a brief silence as Begley processed the news. ‘Then why did you tell me they were robbing it? And what were you thinking, bringing her here for questioning?’

Kowalski prided himself on always keeping his cool, but he could feel himself slowly turning red. He took a few deep breaths.

Begley nodded in Jack’s direction. ‘And who the hell is this? Was he stealing from the house, or is this a total balls-up?’

Kowalski tried to suppress his anger. Screw you, Begley, he thought. But he kept his voice steady as he said, ‘This is Jack Harris, son of Malcolm Harris. The Malcolm Harris.’ Then, to push Begley’s buttons even more he added, ‘He’s a journalist at The Beacon.’

Kowalski watched with satisfaction as his superior fought to stop himself going thermonuclear in front of civilians. Kowalski knew what was coming, but it had been worth it. He turned his attention to Caitlin and Jack. Caitlin was still sniffling on the floor. Jack looked pissed off. Kowalski said to them both, ‘This is Inspector Begley, the station commander.’

‘Kowalski,’ growled Begley, ‘my office. Now.’ He spun around and strode down the corridor.

Caitlin called after him, ‘You should be out looking for my father, not sitting on your arse.’

Kowalski smiled, but made sure the smile was gone when he turned back to her. ‘Please, if you could go back into the interview room. I wasn’t aware of the situation with the surfboard. I’ll come and talk to you as soon as I find out what’s happening.’

Caitlin stood up and wiped her nose on the back of her arm as she and Jack moved off.

Kowalski turned and strode towards the bollocking that awaited him in Begley’s office.