Read The Careless Word (#8 - The Craig Crime Series) for Free Online Page B

served. Every so often soft footsteps would halt outside his door without entering, their owner giggling softly with his uniformed guard instead.
    Guard. That’s what he called him because that’s what the police officer was. There to prevent him leaving, without any proof that he’d done anything wrong. His freedom curtailed, guilty until proven innocent, in a Lewis Carroll skewing of the justice system; the law through a looking glass.
    The young man scanned the room urgently for an escape route as frustration at his lack of words overcame him. He couldn’t speak; but why not? Shock was the doctor’s diagnosis, guilt the policeman’s the night before. He didn’t know the answer because he couldn’t remember a thing. Not about what had brought him to hospital and not about his life in the years before. They’d even had to tell him his name, gleaned from a bankcard found in his clothes.
    The desire to be free suddenly overwhelmed him and he knew that if he couldn’t achieve it physically then spiritually would have to do. Slipping from the pristine bed he searched the room for some way to end his short life. Delaney seized a sharp metal bolt that formed part of his bedside locker, wrenching it from its moorings. With his mind racing he laid its sharp edge against his vulnerable inner wrist. He halted suddenly, surprised at the feeling of revulsion that the action provoked. Was he a religious man? It sounded right. It would explain his hesitation; if he was Christian then suicide must be against his code.
    Delaney slumped defeated against the white linen of his bed, his pallor making them seem as one, then he dropped the bolt to the floor, knowing that the noise would bring his watchdog running in. With that single action he knew that he’d given up his search for a way to end his life, resigning himself instead to hours of questions that he couldn’t answer and days or years spent in limbo, unable to remember a thing.
    ***
    Docklands Coordinated Crime Unit. 8 a.m.

    Liam raked his close-cut sandy hair as hard as its limited volume would allow. He envied Craig his thick hair, not for any desire to look like a matinee idol but for the sheer pleasure of a dramatic gesture now and then. Raking three inches of hair looked much more effective than raking half-an-inch of sandy scrub, and he bet that it made a head massage a whole different experience as well.
    Craig squinted across the desk at his deputy, wondering why Liam was staring so hard at his head. He shrugged; who knew what went through Liam’s mind. Usually football, beer and women, except when they were on a case, then Liam’s sharp insights sometimes surprised even him. Just then the double-doors to the floor swung open and a wave of noise hit them both. High volume chatter from Nicky’s loud laughter mingled with Davy’s and Annette’s more subdued tones. Nicky’s husky voice carried furthest. “All I’m saying is that yellow and white is a nice colour scheme.”
    Craig raised his eyes to heaven. Liam had obviously told them about the makeover at John’s lab. He’s had enough of the interior design discussion at dinner the night before, now he had to hear it all again at work. Davy laughed.
    “There’s a difference between a bit of yellow in the bride’s bouquet and painting your husband’s whole lab to fit in w…with the theme! Besides, yellow’s a girl’s colour.”
    Annette raised an eyebrow. “Now there you’ve lost me, Davy. I agreed with you up to the point where you started allocating colours a sex!”
    Craig rose so that he appeared from behind Liam’s filing cabinet and the small group smiled sheepishly, all except Nicky who was undeterred. Her husky voice echoed through the room, even more audible because of the other’s sudden silence.
    “Barbados’ national flower is called Poinciana. It comes in lots of colours; red, orange and yellow. So I think yellow and white will be lovely.”
    Craig smiled. “If you don’t mind