Game of Bones

Chapter Three-1

Chapter Three

Rafferty felt in serious need of either a large quantity of alcohol. Or some quality mothering. He opted for the latter, sure his Ma’s favourite child would receive the necessary TLC after he poured out his troubles.

But when he got around to his Ma’s, she could talk about nothing else but the news that his sister, Katy, had found herself a job. He knew she’d been worried about Katy, the youngest of his three sisters. He was delighted to hear that Katy had been taken on by a temp agency. It meant that, not only would Katy and her husband, Darren, be able to do something about the debts they had incurred since Darren had lost his job. It also meant an easing of his own finances.

‘Yes,’ said his Ma, as she bustled to the kitchen to make him a cup of tea. He followed. ‘Been there a week already. I’m that pleased for her. Now that her youngest has started school, and she’s able to work at last, it will help them, since Darren hasn’t found work yet.’

‘Is he seriously looking for work? Or has he started to enjoy being a layabout?’ Rafferty wasn’t keen on Darren, but because he was family, he had to put up with him.

‘Don’t let Katy hear you say that.’

‘Don’t worry. I won’t make that mistake again.’ Since Darren had lost his job, he knew things had often been tense between them. But Katy wouldn’t tolerate anyone else criticising him. He’d tried it once. Never again. Katy had flared up at him so much, she had grabbed hold of him and shook him. She could be quite fiery, could his baby sister.

Ma brought the tea into the living room, and sat down ‘It’s nice to see you, son. I suppose your latest murder has kept you busy, as I haven’t seen you.’

Rafferty heard the slight note of reproach in his Ma’s voice. He’d had to put off their usual Friday night supermarket trip, because of the murder investigation, and it looked like he’d have to cancel next week’s as well. That was why he’d popped in to see her tonight. To get his excuses in early.

‘Can’t be helped, Ma. You know I’m in charge of the murder investigation at the university.’

‘I read the papers,’ she told him crisply. Because she didn’t get any news from him, was the implication. ‘I keep files of all your cases.’

‘Really?’ It was more than Rafferty did. Once an investigation was over, he wanted to forget about it, not pore over yellowing newspapers, with their critical editorials.

‘I’ll show you.’ His Ma got up, despite his protest that she needn’t bother, and went to the bureau where she kept all her important papers, and took out not one, but two box files.

Rafferty gazed at them in dismay. Oh God, please. Not all our yesterdays. He could do without that after the day he’d had.

Despite his silent cry to the Almighty, obviously God was off somewhere, performing miracles, and wasn’t available to respond to Rafferty’s urgent plea. Not that Ma looked ready to do God’s bidding. She had a firm hold on the heavy files, and a determined look in her eye, which meant only the foolhardy would attempt excuses. Rafferty had intended this to be a flying visit, for tea and sympathy, but he discovered his Ma had other ideas.

He eyed the quantity of newsprint she’d collected with lacklustre eyes. But he was reluctant to appear uninterested after she’d collected all this with a proud mother’s heart.

Resigning himself to a long stint in this Purgatory, Rafferty told a supposedly ever-listening God, that he had better have a good supply of brownie points when he came up to join him. Or all bets were off.

***

* * * *

RAFFERTY WAS ALL-FIRED-up when he went into work the next morning, confident that, after a night in the cells, Babbington would have looked his future squarely in the face, accepted his guilt, and be not only willing, but anxious, to change his plea. He was supposed to be so smart, after all, so he must realise that with the overwhelming evidence against him, he was going to prison anyway. But by admitting his guilt, he’d save himself from a longer stretch in prison.

Okay, he had yet to put together a case for the Crown Prosecution Service, but he was confident he wouldn’t have to. Men like Babbington couldn’t hack prison, so no way was he going to put himself through a longer sentence. Rafferty felt relieved to be spared the endless paperwork that a Not Guilty plea required.

So, before the van came to take Babbington to court, Rafferty went to claim his capitulation.

***