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a serious crime squad or unit as they’re now called.’ He looked directly at Harry Graham. ‘You and Peter are being transferred to the new unit. Eric is joining PSNI Intelligence.’
    Graham looked downcast but Taylor had the opposite expression.
    ‘No more outside work for you, eh Eric?’ Wilson smiled. Taylor had been wounded in a shooting several years previously and had developed an aversion to pounding the pavements. The intelligence posting would suit him perfectly.
    ‘Who’ll head up the serious crimes unit?’ Graham asked.
    Wilson held out his hands. ‘I wasn’t informed. But the good news is that it won’t be ‘Fatboy’ Harrison. He’s being made the fall guy for the Cummerford cluster fuck.’
    ‘A bit sudden, isn’t it?’ Taylor said. ‘Three days to clear out your office.’
    Wilson was already thinking about what he would take from his office. He decided it might just fit in a little more than a matchbox, and a little less than a shoebox and would probably take all of five minutes to gather up. He wasn’t into mementoes.  He glanced at his watch. ‘I think it’s about time to knock off. ‘Don’t know about you fellows but I need a couple of drinks. Let’s call Peter and we’ll meet at the Crown.’

 
    CHAPTER SEVEN
     
     
     
    It was nearly midnight when Wilson arrived back at his new digs. He had made the mistake of giving the cab driver his old address and they had already arrived at Kate’s apartment before he realised his error. His current residence was an apartment in a new building in what was becoming trendy East Belfast.  It was close to the Titanic Quarter and was just east of Queen’s Quay. He was located on the fifth floor, which gave him an excellent view across the river with the Lagan Weir off to his right. The apartment was a two-bedroom unit and was considerably less luxurious than his former residence. But somehow he felt more comfortable in these surroundings. His rental agreement ran for six months and when he signed it he wasn’t aware that his working life was about to change so radically. The six months was intended as an interim to give him time to either rebuild his relationship with Kate, or if they decided to move on, he would try to find somewhere more permanent. It was yet another impermanence; another reason to feel uneasy about the future. His whole life appeared to be in a state of flux. He looked off to the left along the Lagan and he thought that he could just about see some light in the building that housed Kate’s apartment. He wondered whether she was looking out of her picture window at where he was standing. It had felt so right with Kate. He’d always appreciated that they came from different worlds and there was the issue of the miscarriage but he felt they could solve their problems. He really did think that they could get over the loss of their baby. He recognised that their feeling on the miscarriage would be different. Kate was young and would probably have other children. Therefore the miscarriage was not an insurmountable problem. He agreed that he lacked sensitivity but he was in a job where it was a liability to be too sensitive. He used to think that he could be two different people. One was the policeman who dealt with the dregs of society and witnessed the horrors that man can inflict on his fellows. The other person was the loving partner and the potential loving husband. Perhaps Kate saw through that fallacy and realised that the insensitive policeman would win out in the end. Whatever the reason, a chasm had opened between them and he wasn’t sure that the gap could ever be bridged. He pulled a chair over to the window and stared at the flickering lights of the city.

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
     
     
    Wilson eased his car past the barrier at the PSNI compound in Dunmurry. The facility had not yet entered the new soft era of policing and still had the high blast walls and wire netting associated with the era of the “Troubles”.