18: Rebecca

Rebecca took a deep breath and tried again.

"There's no need to be aggressive, sir. I don't have a problem. I simply need to determine your name and address before proceeding with..."

"I'm not being fucking aggressive!"

"Of course not."

"Who's in fucking charge here, anyway?"

"As far as this goes, sir, I am."

"Fuck off."

"Excuse me?"

"Who'd put a dried-up lezbo like you in charge of anything?"

Sometimes, Rebecca just wanted a licence to kill. These bloody people. She was trying to help these bloody people, that was her whole sodding function here, but would they let her do it? Would they ever appreciate it? Of course not.

"Sir..."

"Come with me, sir. Sorry Becky, you shouldn't have had to put up with that."

"I've had worse."

"I know, but still."

Rebecca was grateful to Bates for intervening, but at the same time furious. She could have handled it, didn't need to be rescued by a man every time some wanker got out of hand. How long had she been doing this? Long enough to deal with a fucking Saturday night on the desk, at least.

Her mobile rang: Zoe.

"Hey Baby."

"Bad night?"

"Don't even ask. Christ. What's up?"

"Just checking in. OK, that's a lie. Can you pick up some milk on the way home?"

"Sure. Just milk?"

"Something breakfasty. Croissants or whatever?"

"I'll see what I can do."

"Hang in there, girl."

"Oh, believe me, I'm hanging. See you in the morning."

"Love you."

"You too."

She closed her eyes for a moment. Saturday nights.

"No, officer, no, I'm not, really, please."

Becky knew that voice. She sighed.

"I just want to speak to the sergeant."

"It's OK, Dave, let her through."

"If you say so."

"Hello Corinne."

"Ma'am."

"To what do we owe the pleasure this time?"

"Ma'am?"

"I mean, what do you want to talk to me about?"

"Oh, yes. It's the boy, you see. They keep saying I imagined it, but I didn't, you've got to believe me. I'm not on drugs, honest, miss."

"I believe you, Corinne. Remember me? I'm the one who believes you."

"I remember."

"What's this about a boy, then?"

"He took him! I saw him take the boy. He didn't think anyone was looking, didn't think anyone would care, nobody ever cares, you see? You know how nobody ever cares? But I was there and I saw. It happened, and I saw, and I care. I'm not making it up, really."

Becky was all too familiar with Corinne's stories, but something made her pause this time. Corinne's demeanour was... well, Becky didn't know what, exactly. A little more composed? And frightened. The fear shone out like a flashlight.

"Please, ma'am, please. You've got to come with me. I know where he took him, I saw. You've got to come save the boy."

"What boy, Corinne? What boy? Who took him?"

"The beast."

"The beast?"

"The beast took the boy."

Becky tried to imagine what this was going to look like written down, what her report would say. Then she thought of that prick she'd been talking to before and decided she didn't care. It was a Saturday night. Might as well go with the fucking flow.

"Where did the beast take the boy, Corinne? Can you show me that? Where did the beast take the boy?"

"I can show you, ma'am. Yes, I can show you."
Posted by matt at November 22, 2004 01:47 AM