Free Dying on Principle by Judith Cutler Page B

you know who I am, since my name is on the door, but I sure as hell don’t know you. And –’ I took the ashtray and ostentatiously put it outside the door – ‘I’m not at all sure I want to.’
    I removed my gear from my seat and sat down, arms folded and one trousered leg aggressively crossing the other.
    It struck me at this point that I wasn’t on very good ground. I was a mere visitor here, and could easily be thought to have violated the code of polite behaviour. Perhaps Sunshine thought so too. Getting truculently to his feet, he leaned over me with a particularly thick forefinger inches from my nose. It was too close for me to focus on, but I could smell the nicotine.
    There was a tap on the door, and in, uninvited, walked Ian Dale. However casually he might try to dress, everything about him announced that he was a policeman. I’d have loved him to rock backwards and forwards on those large, wide feet and say ‘Hello-ello-ello, what ’ave we here?’ But he didn’t need to.
    â€˜I was wondering if I might have a word, Ms Rivers,’ he said. ‘In private,’ he added, holding the door ostentatiously for Sunshine to pass through. ‘Hmph. Still, I suppose you can’t expect more than a grunt from a pig,’ he said reflectively. ‘In a spot of bother, were you, Sophie, love?’ he said closing the door firmly behind him, and pushing in the snib for good measure. ‘Overreached yourself a bit? Like a chihuahua taking on a bloody great pit-bull. You ought to watch yourself, Sophie. One of these days it’ll be you we find in a skip.’ His smile was affectionate.
    â€˜Take a pew, Ian. And tell me what I can do for you.’
    â€˜You can tell me what you think of that suicide note. Tell me, would a kid about to kill herself really use a computer to tell the world?’
    â€˜To me it smells. But these computer wizards do take them remarkably seriously. There are all sorts of computer noticeboards, people communicating with other users and forming relationships with people they’ve never seen. The information super-highway, that sort of thing.’ And then I looked hard at him. ‘Come on, Ian, I bet you’ve got a lot more information than I have. All those uniform people crawling around looking for forensic evidence. All those statements. I’m looking to you to update me.’
    Or Chris: where was Chris if Ian was here?
    Ian smiled. ‘Let’s start with that Trevelyan lady. Doped up to the eyeballs she is, but the medics say they’ll reduce her medication as quickly as they safely can. Then we can maybe get a bit of sense out of her.’
    â€˜She must really have seen Melina fall, you know.’
    â€˜I wonder which window she was looking out of,’ said Ian, idly getting up and looking out of mine.
    â€˜Surely your forensic people could tell you that? The angle she landed would tell them that.’
    Ian narrowed his eyes. ‘Why?’
    â€˜Because – you’re taking the mickey, Ian! You and Chris know all this. Why—’
    â€˜Actually the pathologist reckons the injuries are more consistent with her landing on something flat than on that skip.’
    â€˜Like paving stones? Jesus, you mean someone moved her? Was she still alive when they – when they …’
    â€˜Don’t know,’ he said flatly. ‘Pathologist will have some ideas, no doubt. But Chris would like to find some evidence. That’s why—’ He shut up abruptly.
    â€˜Ian,’ I said amicably enough, ‘I have this terrible feeling that you’ve been sent here to baby-sit me. Chris doesn’t want me to leave my room for a bit, right? What’s going on outside?’
    Ian blushed.
    â€˜Are they out there now, looking for bits of her skin and bone?’ I said, brutal for my sake, not his. ‘And Chris didn’t think I ought to have my sensibilities