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Chapter 67
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
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