Free Human Frailty, a Detective Mike Bridger novel by Mark Bredenbeck

was
right.
    The last thing she remembered was someone
whistling a tune she had heard before but could not place, strong
arms grabbing her from behind, before shoving a filthy rag in her
face, and then everything went black. It had been nothing but
darkness since, darkness and the shadow. How long had it been, she
had no idea. The room was stuffy; it reeked of human waste, her
waste. She felt filthy, degraded, frightened. She started to sob, a
sob that went on until he came for her, a sob that intensified as
he placed a gag on her mouth. A sob turned into a stifled scream
when he dragged her from the room and through the darkened house.
Then her scream stopped dead as he threw her roughly onto the
floor. He placed that stinking cloth over her face again,
whispering quietly to her as he held it tight.
    "Don't worry mother the end is near".
    Then everything went a darker shade of
black.
     
     
     

Chapter Nine
     
    Coming to, he felt spittle forming a sticky
pool around his cheek which was resting on the desk, it took
Bridger a few seconds to realise he was still in the office. The
paperwork he was intending to complete was lying untouched in the
tray beside him.
    Looking at the clock on the wall it told him
that he was well past knocking off time. It was getting dark
outside the window leaving the office bathed in shadows. His mouth
felt like it was full of cotton wool, the sugar from the chocolate
milk doing what sugar did.
    The short sleep, however deep, had done
nothing to placate his thumping head. He thought about putting in
an extra hour to make a start on the paperwork, but he was having
trouble focusing his eyes so he decided to stop for the day.
    Grabbing his bag he headed out the door and
into the stairwell, the stairwell windows looked down into the
police station gym on the side of the building, the lights were on
and he saw a couple of young officers energetically chucking a
basketball into one of the hoops. He was walking slowly himself;
every step was thumping inside his head and his breath coming in
short little rasps. As he reached the bottom and walked out into
the night air he felt a little better but not by much.
    He pushed his electronic key tag up against
the pad on the rear gate, watching it slide open. He was followed
by a patrol car as he walked out of the yard and into the alleyway
beside the Police Station, it's red and blue lights blinked on as
it accelerated out onto the one way system heading north, off to
another call for help. He caught two somber looking faces in the
blur of the windscreen as it flashed by, both passengers intent on
their destination. He found his own car where he left it the night
before; he fumbled with the lock having to jiggle it a little bit
to get the door open.
    Collapsing in behind the wheel, he let out a
pained sigh. He was glad he did not have to get involved in the
busy physical world of the uniform branch anymore. He would not
have survived a day like this on the back of his hangover. He much
preferred the more sedate style of a detective to catch the bad
guys.
    Bridger drove away from the car park and
made his way up into the Octagon, which made up the hub of the
central city. Early evening diners were sitting at tables inside
the snug looking bar restaurants that lined the bottom half. Bars
that looked sedentary now, people having a relaxed drink, or
dinner, but later on he knew they would play host to hundreds of
intoxicated people as the younger crowd made their way to town, all
topped up on whatever cheap alcohol the supermarkets were selling
as a loss leader this week.
    A few groups of students were starting to
dribble into town now as he drove through towards princess
street.
    I guess it is good for the
publican ’ s
coffers, he thought, passing by the first casualty of the night, a
young bearded male vomiting in the gutter with an exasperated
female standing above him furiously texting on her cell phone. The
scene forced Bridger's mind to flash back to the