Free Wasted Lives, a Detective Mike Bridger novel by Mark Bredenbeck Page A

off
me..., get it off ' followed the scream. The source of the
commotion was not visible but by the sound of the frightened pain
of the voice, the dog had found its intended target.
    Score
one for the dog, he thought, smiling.
    Bridger
climbed over the fence and followed the handler into the
undergrowth, small branches catching at his shirtsleeves as he made
his way further down the gully.
    Coming out
into a small clearing he caught sight of the dogs rear end, it had
his head buried under a small bush and seemed to be ripping it from
side to side as his tail wagged excitedly. As Bridger got closer,
he could hear a small whimper coming from somewhere in front of the
dog, near the fangs.
    "Titan...,
Leave! Leave!” The dog handler shouted the command and the dog
reacted instantly, its head emerging from the shadows. It had its
mouth open panting, its blood-covered teeth clearly visible. The
dog looked to have a maniacal grin on its face, as if it was in
ecstasy and not just having another day at work.
    "Good
boy...Good boooy!” The handler praised his dog ruffling his neck
and putting him back on the lead. "He's all yours Mike," he said
smiling.
    Bridger
crouched at the base of the bush and peered under. A bloodied and
torn leg confronted him, twitching slightly as he stared at it.
"Out you come then, let’s see you".
    "Keep that
fucking dog away from me man", the body attached to the leg said
fearfully.
    "The dogs on
the lead..., if you didn't run you wouldn't have met him. I'm sure
he's a very nice dog..., usually." Bridger smiled to himself; this
was always the outcome when they deployed a police dog to locate an
offender. This man was no different; it was hard to be tough in the
presence of sharp teeth.
    The leg moved
a little, then uncurled into the light revealing three big puncture
wounds oozing blood and a few small tears in the flesh, not so bad
looking in the light, but Bridger knew most of the damage would be
below the surface, mentally and physically.
    A body
followed the leg slowly from the bush, then a head appeared last,
the face attached to the head had tears and snot staining its
cheeks but was unmistakably that of Tama Wilson. It seemed that
their luck had just changed.
     
     
     

Chapter
Five
     
    Bridger sat on
one side of the table in the small stuffy room; across from him
Tama Wilson was slouching arrogantly in the chair, his bandaged leg
placed awkwardly in front of him, small spots of blood seeping
through the white of the dressings.  It had taken two hours
for the doctor to sort out his leg and declare him fit enough to be
interviewed, Tama had only just stopped snivelling. He had seen
plenty of supposed hard men cry in his time so he had no sympathy
for Tama.
    Off to the
side of the table between them, an ominous black box housing
digital recording equipment sat silently.
    The search of
Tama's house had not found the weapon used to shoot the shopkeeper
the previous evening. It was a small setback but one that Bridger
hoped would not matter if Tama were willing to cooperate.
    "Once
Detective Wright gets back with your cup of water we will start the
interview. You do understand why you are here don't you Tama?”
Bridger said, trying to build a rapport.
    Tama just
shrugged his shoulders.
    "We need to
ask you some questions about last night". He did not let on exactly
what it was he wanted to know, let Tama fill in the gaps, he might
let something slip. Bridger looked Tama in the eye waiting for some
sort of reply.
    "Fuck you, why
did you need the dog and guns for if you just wanted to ask me some
questions? You've gone and fucked up my leg now, I'm gonna make a
complaint to my lawyer, you's are gonna get done for what you did".
Tama had regained some of his confidence now that the painkillers
had kicked in.
    Not quite the
rapport he was hoping for, but before Bridger could reply Becky
came in with a cup of water for Tama. Placing the cup in front of
him, she sat down next to Bridger.
    "Right