April’s Tears
A figure emerges from the tented crime scene. White-clothed. A pale man. Tall. Long-legged. Silver-haired.
And red…
Blood bright on his hands
Borje.
For an instant, he clearly doesn’t recognise me. Then, his eyes widen. “Larry? What the hell…”
Larry? ”I react by instinct, locking a hand to his throat. “What the f**k are you doing here?”
fuck Jolted back against a supporting post of the marquee, arms flailing, he gurgles against the vee of my thumb and fingers. Red-faced, scrabbling at my hand... “Choking me…”
ChokingI relax my hold a bit.
“What was that?”
“Doctor. I"m a f*****g doctor!”
Doctor.?
I release my grip and he drops, gasping, to all fours. “Doctor?”
“Yes, a doctor.” On hands and knees, he coughs and splutters, clearing his airway. “I"m a police patholog
