Free Field of Blood by Gerald Seymour

could find any hot water, he'd write to her. He was thinking of Sam, drowsily and happily, when the ceiling light billowed across the
    Mess.,
    Àre you Mr Ferris?' The scrape of the Belfast accent.
    Ferris sat up. `That's me.'
    It was a huge man that towered over him, his size accentuated by Ferris's position
    on the sofa.
    Ì'm Rennie . . . Detective Chief Inspector Rennie . . .'
    He spoke the words slowly, as if the rank gave him pride. Ferris sat up, rubbed his
    eyes.
    `Howard Rennie, Castlereagh ... I hear you buggers have been fartarsing with us .
    . .'
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    **Ì beg your pardon ...?' Ferris yawned. The Mess was bloody arctic. He stood,
    and tucked his shirt down into his trouser waist.
    `The police lift men in Belfast these days, if you didn't know. The military provide support, if requested. I can do without clever buggers.'
    `You've no right to come in here, into our Mess, with that sort of language on your face.'
    Ì like a man out of his bed, into the landrover, down to Castlereagh, while he's
    still asleep. I like him stripped and weighed and checked and in his cell before he's had time to think. I have to work on him, young fellow, and I've shit all time to do it, as you'd know if you took the trouble to read the P. of T. Act, and what doesn't help me is him sitting in a cell here getting used to the fact he's in the cage. As I 43

    see it, young fellow, getting my friend into the Interrogation Room in the right frame of mind is more important than your fucking Colonel getting a back slap from his General. Got it?'
    Ferris thought he liked the man. He was laughing quietly. `Got it .. round here, Mr
    Rennie, you might believe that the capture of old McAnally added up to the final
    victory.'
    It was a big weathered face that confronted Ferris. There was no crack of a smile.
    The hairs of the moustache were splayed out. There was a nick from a fast shave
    on the throat. The breath was of cigarettes and gin. The ceiling light glowed on
    the high forehead. `Tomorrow, if I can take the time off from "old McAnally", I'll have two funerals to go to, good friends, so I'm not in the mood for a laugh in your Mess. I want McAnally now, I want you and the lad who identified him down
    at Castlereagh in the afternoon for statements.'
    `He's already in police custody, why don't you just bloody take him?
    'There's a form for these things. He's going to appear in court, long after you've
    been ferried out and back to war games in Germany. Long after you've gone some smart lawyer will be putting the arrest procedure under a 'scope. You won't
    be here but I will, so I say that everything has to be right, and I'm taking him from your charge. Got it?'
    Ferris led the way. Out into the night air and across to the police cells, down the
    corridor, escorted by a constable. The crash of the keys, the swish of the door.
    McAnally sat on the iron bedframe. His knees were clamped close together, his
    arms were hard against his chest. His lip was swollen. Ferris was behind the shoulder of the detective, but he could see McAnally stiffen, straighten, at the sight of Howard Rennie. Ferris reckoned it the defiance of a trapped rat.
    `Morning, Gingy. . .'
    McAnally stood up. He tried to lift his chin. He walked to Rennie and then turned
    his back, reached his wrists to the base of his spine, and was handcuffed. He turned back to face Rennie.
    `The injury to the prisoner's mouth, Mr Ferris, that happened during his arrest?'
    `Correct.'
    `Just getting it right, Mr Ferris, like I said. Come on, Gingy.' Detective Chief Inspector Howard Rennie strode away down the cor
    ridor. His shoes were iron‐tipped, reverberating. His quilted, open
    anorak seemed to fill the corridor. Ferris followed, walking alongside
    McAnally. The constable was behind them. Rennie was hurrying, as if
    the whole visit to Springfield Road had been a bloody liberty taken at
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    his expense. Ferris felt the light kick at his heel. McAnally was close
    to him. The prisoner