Free Harrigan and Grace - 01 - Blood Redemption by Alex Palmer Page A

courtesy of a fellow officer who had taken a strong exception to Harrigan’s interference in his personal business affairs, as he saw it. Both had been preferable to their alternative: becoming the statistic of an officer shot dead while on duty. That would have earned him impressive funeral rites but little else.
    Apart from any other benefit, the whole affair had been a lesson to Harrigan that it was unwise to bait someone quite that far. He could still remember the embarrassed faces of the senior officers who had visited him while he was recovering in hospital to offer him either resignation or exile. Exile was only on offer because of the scandal the affair had caused in the media; and it was one way of making sure he kept his mouth shut (which he had done, obligingly).
    The officer who had almost shot him dead, one Michael Casatt, had gone down in flames a few years ago, following the latest royal commission into police corruption, the same commission which had opened up the possibilities of Harrigan’s own advancement. It had been sweet entertainment to think of the man squirming in front of the video in the courtroom, but while the exile might be over, the sporadic ache in Harrigan’s reconstructed jaw was there still. A useful reminder for him to be a little more subtle about how he went about his own business in future.
    He brought himself back to the present, to pay attention as the Assistant Commissioner expressed public condolences for the loss of a citizen loved, respected and admired. He admired the man’s calm as he refused to be drawn on questions of how the shooting might affect the government’s law and order campaign in the upcoming state election.
    With an equally straight face, Harrigan listened as the Tooth spoke portentously on the pooling of area command resources with Harrigan’s specialist crime task force. Such persuasive lies. They’d be lucky to get one free beer out of the man for Christmas. The Tooth did not double as Santa Claus, or as the tooth fairy for that matter. He was good material for the cameras, a smiling man with a fleshy face and neatly cut hair silvered grey, his soft distended stomach hidden by the table. At first glance, he appeared benign, even pliable, but to Harrigan’s certain knowledge he could outmanoeuvre the best of them.
    Then the pack turned on Harrigan and the two men beside him sat back and let him deal with it. In Harrigan’s estimation the media were parasites: they drank other people’s blood to stay alive. They were useful only occasionally, if you wanted something out of them. He stonewalled. Initial information suggested the intended victim had not been Professor Henry Liu but his wife, Dr Agnes Liu. At last report her condition was critical but stable. The motive was unclear. The murder weapon had been found, investigations were continuing. After this he deflected questions until the Assistant Commissioner wound things up.
    Outside in the corridor, Harrigan was disturbed to find the Tooth bearing down on him in an apparently friendly manner, his smile revealing a line of even, very white teeth which would have done a dentist proud. It was a smile designed to make you complicit, to make you grin like an idiot in reply, while the ‘How are you?’ that went with it made Harrigan marvel at how Marvin could make a casual greeting sound like a death threat.
    ‘Paul. You handled the boys and girls very nicely in there. Of course, we may have to get together sometime and talk a little more frankly about resources — unfortunately I do have other commitments and this job could be a bit of a squeeze. Meanwhile, a quick word with you now? There’s a question I wanted to ask.’
    The man moved him towards a window by the elbow; Harrigan stepped aside from his touch.
    ‘You had a recruit from the Graduate Entry Scheme start with you today? Grace Riordan? Is that right?’
    ‘Yeah, that’s right,’ Harrigan replied, managing not to look surprised.
    ‘Yes,