Hemlock and Roses

into the r

of the loading bay, and halfway to the open door he turned round and walked backwards, grinning,

He held up one hand, fingers spread.

red fire extinguisher, took him in, and

a saxophone in it. He was tired and wet and twenty-four years old, and he was anno

loading bay. A car door slammed. Someone hurried in t

the door o

rain with their collar turned up and their hands in their pockets, very fast and somehow unhurried a

e. He knew it be

end of the loading bay and round the corner of the building, and it was gone, a

asement windows

eone had switc

ars to say out loud what h

the one person in the world he had spent a

ee days, and the city had b

our scent rose off the pavement. The streetlamps bled gold into the puddles, a

rown and impossible at the best of times, was twisted into a knot at the back of her head and skewered with a pencil, and it was still half wet from a shower she hadn't finished. Strands of it had escaped and were plastered to her chee

dn't f

Inspector Tom Morrow h

Now. Int

forty would do. Brevity, in him,

vending machine in the corridor glowed like an aquarium with nothing alive inside it. Someone had left

er at the en

nd a face that always looked as if it needed another hour of sleep. Tonight it looked as if it needed a week. His tie hung loose. Th

terrible,"

ned your c

held out her

right away, and that was the first thing

is one's

trange at two

like

he folder as

64. Former stage manag

ays noticed. In four years of working together it was t

she said.

witness who testified." Morrow rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Tonight a neighbour heard raised voice

rned th

dark shape she did not let her eyes rest on. And beside

d him up, he came without a fight. Sat down where we told him to sit. And since then-" He spread his big hands. "Nothing. Four h

e talks,

why I ca

d to the

ane, 31. Occupat

, brother. Cause of death: smoke i

gently, the way you close

e Linden Hall once

ot think

ed of other people's anxiety. Iris stood in front of

what she ha

ers folded inward, elbows on the table, as if guilt were a physical weight they could no longer carry upright. And th

ane did

in the length of his back, in the long legs folded under the steel table. Lean in the way of someone who worked with his body without ever thinking about it. His grey wool sweater had gon

red what he looked like to the people watching. His face was pale, with the pallor of someone who spent his days indoors, and severe in a way she couldn

e was a word for men in advertisements. Beautiful in the way that very old things

rested on

knuckles slightly pronounced, and across the back of the left one ran a thin white scar that disappeared under h

y were

his was something else. His index and middle fingers lifted and fell against

omething. On a t

at for an hour," Mo

rhythm, and for one unsettling second something stirred at th

it wa

f the glass, Elias

ould be looking at was his own tired face. And yet his gaze came up and settled prec

dark a brown th

back. But it to

cups of wate

r with the heavy click of

s, and opened the file on the table without looking at it. It was theatre. They both knew it

and something she couldn't place: clean and s

osophy at Wexford University, and sometimes t

opped moving the m

made that very clear. So I'm not going to ask you what

lowed the light, and they held a kind of stillness she had only ever seen in two kinds of people: those

said, "that silence

Somewhere down the corridor a

N

ds when it has gone unused for hours, or for years. Behind

what i

It had been a long time since anyone in that chair had

id, "it's the only

felt when a door she'd been knocking on opened

test it." She leaned forward. "Did yo

es

hy

o ask him a

your br

nt in his left hand, the scarred one. The fingers curled in towards the palm, and then, very deliberat

hought. And it stil

hing in her chest had tightened without her pe

per cup, not at her. "He would ha

was ver

one would answer. Tonight you went to his door. There were raised voices. Twenty minutes after you left, he was dead, and

N

the corners of his eyes. Just the word, set down

know w

le

at. She had built t

quietly. "This one you won't answer at all. A man who didn't

sn't fear. It was closer to sorrow: the strange, gentle sorrow

as Vane said, "are

or another f

and he gave her an answer so thoughtful that she almost forgot to be annoyed by it. She laid traps in long, winding chains of perfectly reasonab

, towards Linden, towards the name of whoever he was protecting, he simply stopped walking. He didn't lie. He didn't

humb hard into the inside of her left wrist. It w

hen you're los

her hand. "

w," he

ng was that it soun

closed the fi

ak again,

like

ng for the mockery in it, and couldn't find any. He meant

on the door whe

essor

tu

nd every tired line in his face. For a moment he seem

softly, "that the truth never hur

move. It only f

lecture halls and once, beautifully, in a speech she had learned by heart. And she

ce she could no

t?" Her voice came out

wered his eyes, and the door

ething about warrants and holding periods and

king throug

ted and fell, lifted and fell, in the same patient rhythm. And this time

eld breath. Then a slow falling lin

ew tha

, until her fingertips ached and her mother begged her to stop. She h

night i

ealised, had gon