Chapter 2

Ronnie sighed. It was late evening and he had been unable to sleep. In the end he'd fetched his duvet and pillow from the bedroom and dumped them on the sofa. The silence was deafening except for when he closed his eyes. Then he could hear the bullets whistle through the air from the window of the black 4X4. He could see Matt's ashen face as he lay on the ground bleeding and fighting for breath. He knew he would be unlikely to ever forget that sight. It was almost like everything had gone into slow motion picture quality although it was a horror movie in his eyes. Ronnie had not felt so helpless since a previous partner had been killed. It incensed him. It all seemed wrong. He had lived longer than Matt Devlin had had the chance to do. The natural order of things was invariably fucked up by what he saw on the job but most of the time he was able to accept criminal behaviour; it didn't mean he had to like it but he accepted it nonetheless as a sign of the fucked up times in which he lived. He blamed it on drugs, greed, power and racial tension.

Right then Ronnie wanted to drown his sorrows in a large bottle of whisky but he knew it would only numb the pain for a time only for it to emerge even rawer once he sobered up. He did not want to take any steps back along the road to hell. It had already cost him too much and his strained relationship with his daughter, Sarah, was only the tip of the iceberg but at least he was still breathing; Matt Devlin was forever denied that luxury. Ronnie dug his nails into the palms of his hands so hard that he drew blood. He could feel the anger bubbling to the service; rising into his throat like bile from a pool of volcanic lava.

"We'll get the bastards for you, Matt," he seethed, "I promise you that if it's the last thing I ever do. It really should have been me; I should have taken those bullets for you. I'm a dried up old soak with a trail of human destruction in my wake whereas you were a young man with your whole life ahead of you. I know life is not fair; I've been in the job long enough to know that but never had it seemed less fair than now."

Ronnie tucked the duvet around himself but he knew he would not sleep. Sure enough, moments later he was flicking through the TV channels but nothing caught his attention because all he could see was the slow film of Matt's murder playing out in his mind. He switched the TV off and went into the kitchen to make coffee. He did not really care for coffee but he did feel rather proud of himself for avoiding the pubs and off-licenses on his way home. He was sure that Matt would have been proud of him for that and that strengthened his resolve.

He decided that he would go back and see Chandler and possibly Jake and Alesha at the CPS. He missed James Steel for they had worked on many cases over the years. He would try to make himself useful. It was his partner who had been murdered, not theirs, but bringing the guilty to justice was not up to him this time and he resented that bitterly. This one conviction would matter above all else.

What had Alesha meant when she had said that there must be a connection to the Ellis case? Could drug dealer Mark Ellis be somehow involved in Matt's murder? He was not the sort to dirty his own hands but he had the influence to make things happen even from inside a prison cell. Ronnie had learnt enough in the last day or so to know that there was a distinct possibility that this murder had Ellis' fingerprints all over it, at least metaphorically. Ellis was a bully who intimidated young black kids to run drugs around the estate and most of their parents did not care given that they were boozed or shot up. How did any kid stand a chance with parents like that? Ronnie had seen the fear and at some points even been able to smell it. Ellis ruled by intimidation. Ellis was a cocky little bastard and right now Ronnie wanted to take him down several pegs. There had to be a link to Matt's murder somehow. Then there was young Cayden Blake whose mother didn't give a shit; in fact she had effectively sold her own son to Ellis to pay off debts owed to unsavoury dealers. That thought sickened Ronnie. He may not have been the best father in the world – his own fault entirely if he was honest and sobriety made one brutally honest – but at least his girls were not turning tricks, doing drugs or inside learning to be more accomplished criminals. Sarah had just had a baby after all and Ronnie was proud although the idea of being a grandfather made him feel prematurely old. If he not gone to take the call Matt might still be alive. No! Ronnie slammed his fist down the table. He couldn't start thinking like that. If he got caught in a vicious downward spiral of negative thought it would result in him heading back for the nearest off-License. He had to snap out of it and fast. He had to get a grip on reality for Matt's sake. He knew he would only get peace from seeing Matt's killer sent down but right now he wished they would bring back hanging for cop killers although the way he had felt about and respected Matt Devlin he reasoned that hanging would be far too good.

He poured himself more coffee wincing at the bitter taste. Time had moved on and the light of dawn was at last beginning to penetrate the curtains as the day dawned grey and overcast but the new dawn brought a new resolve; a resolve that he would see Matt's killer punished if it was the last thing he ever did and, he reasoned, it just might be. Ellis was not some spoilt kid who had broken another kid's favourite toy; he was a despicable thug who broke lives. He was dangerous.

Ronnie wasn't particularly hungry because his stomach was knotted tight with rage, grief and tension. He made himself some toast and munched on it as he deliberated his next move.

Alesha Phillips had witnessed Matt's murder and she had cared about him too; almost as much as Ronnie had. Yes she would be the first port of call. Ronnie finished his toast and put on his coat before leaving the flat and headed for the direction of the CPS building.