Let Me In by Adam Nicholls (books under 200 pages .TXT) đź“•
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- Author: Adam Nicholls
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The press room at the Metropolitan Police precinct was a sea of journalists in neat rows that reminded Morgan of his wife’s HUCINS events. Only this crowd was a more hungry, selfish one that would probably sacrifice their own mothers if it meant getting to ask the first question.
Emma, who sat beside him on a panel up front, had been instructed by the police to keep her answers brief and to the point. Certain details about Nick Hansen were yet to be revealed, and Morgan saw hilarious irony in that; the same people keeping cards close to their chests didn’t even have the whole scoop.
But Morgan did.
He knew everything the police did, and then some. The responsibility was monstrous—keeping information like Emma and Nick’s relationship a secret was an obstruction of police justice, but as Gary kept pointing out, there was still value in vigilante justice. After all, it was him who’d hired Morgan, and he’d done so only to be a part of this so-called justice.
Where was this justice, anyway?
Morgan hadn’t seen any.
Not yet.
While Emma Cole responded to a barrage of questions from young and insensitive journalists, Morgan scanned the crowd. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but he did stop to wonder if the killer was out there. After the way he’d somehow gained unforced entry to the homes of his victims, and not to mention that even Emma hadn’t recognized him on that ill-fated night at HUCINS, Nick Hansen was sure to be a master of disguise. Although the cliché of it made him uncomfortable, Morgan knew it was true.
Any one of these people could be Nick Hansen.
Any of them could be the DC Carver.
When the timer reached thirty minutes, the police captain announced the end and dismissed the journalists, shuffling them out of the room while they complained as always. While they made their exit, Morgan helped Emma out of her seat and escorted her to the hallway behind the panel, where he was due to take his exit.
It already felt like goodbye.
“When will I see you again?” Emma asked, gazing up at him.
“It’s hard to say. I’ll catch you at HUCINS?”
Emma sneered. “Maybe when this is all over.”
“Right. I’m on it,” Morgan said, doubting it himself. The truth was, he had no idea where to go from here. All he could do was keep his ear to the ground and pray Gary would be there to fill in any details he missed. “What will you do?”
“Try to adjust, I guess.” Emma wrung her hands and glanced toward the far end of the corridor, where Matthew stood waiting with her coat slung over one arm. “Perhaps I’ll consider telling him the truth. He deserves to know, right?”
As much as Morgan wanted to stay out of their relationship, he couldn’t help but nod. That was seconds before Emma Cole threw her arms over his shoulders and hugged him, holding her body close to his as her chest heaved with the threat of tears.
“Take care, Mr. Young,” she said, sliding off him. “And please, find Nick Hansen.”
“I will,” he promised, watching her leave. But would he? It was tough to say. The investigation had come to a standstill, and as if he didn’t already have his doubts, Emma was barely out the door before Captain Bray stormed toward him, his gray hair flapping with the speed of his strut.
“Hey, you,” he said, pointing his finger in Morgan’s face.
Morgan stepped back.
“You’ve done your part here, but now it’s time to call it a day.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know you’ve been talking with Detective Lee about the case, and I’m sick to death of seeing you whenever I turn around. It may have escaped your notice, but police work is for the police.”
“I’m trying to help.”
“I don’t give a shit.” Bray stomped forward, knocking shoulders with Morgan before heading toward the exit Emma had used only moments ago. He walked as if the black suit he wore empowered him, making him more than a grumpy, cliché police captain. “That’s your last warning. Don’t waste it.”
Morgan opened his mouth to complain, but by then the captain was gone. Now, he was left all alone in the corridor with nothing but a head full of seemingly useless information, the sweet memory of Emma Cole’s bravery through her ordeal, and the sour recollection of the captain’s threat. No matter how much he tried to forget the latter, however, he knew it would only grow to be a larger inconvenience.
After all, he had enough problems without making the MPD his enemy.
On that same night, when the wind picked up and Morgan held Rachel close to him under the sheets, all he could think about was the police captain. How was he supposed to pursue this thing now? He’d told Rachel all about it, and as always she’d remained optimistic.
Too optimistic.
“Are you awake?” he whispered, hoping not to disturb her if he was wrong.
But Rachel cleared her throat and twisted her head to gawk up at him, one beautiful blue eye opening slowly before the other. She blinked like rapid fire until she saw him and smiled. “I am now. What’s up?”
“Sorry. I just keep thinking about what you said.”
“Which was?”
“The vacation.” It was all he could get out. Not long after presenting her with the news about Emma, she’d tossed a travel magazine toward him and insisted he check out page seven. Confused, he’d obeyed her command and spotted the brilliant white sands of a Maldivian beach, with jetties and private huts and crystal clear water. It was certainly more attractive than the price, which was—to say the least—out of their budget. “The break would do us some good.”
“I thought we couldn’t afford it.”
“Maybe we can.”
Rachel huffed and sat up, shoving the sheets aside and squinting at Morgan’s bedside lamp. Raking her fingers through her fire-colored hair and pulling a slipped gown strap back over her bare shoulder, she adjusted herself to sit in front of him on her knees. “What’s really going on in that head of yours?”
Morgan felt his lips purse as he cocked his head. “What do you mean?”
“A couple hours ago we didn’t—what were your words—have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of? Now you’re suggesting we run away on this luxurious vacation. Not that I’m complaining. We can take out a loan. But what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you going to solve this case?”
Morgan’s heart dropped at the sound of the word. The “case,” as she’d put it, was slipping out from under him, and he was basically sitting on his thumbs until the killer struck again. “I’m thinking about leaving it.”
“Leaving it? Are you crazy?” She grabbed a pillow and hurled it at him.
Morgan caught it before the threaded corner could strike his eye. “You’ve heard the latest. I’ll be lucky to get anywhere near a crime scene if this happens again. And even if it doesn’t happen again—which is obviously the better of the two evils—I’ll never find the guy. If the police can’t do it, then how could I?”
“The police don’t know what you know.”
“But what I know is useless. All I can do is wait.”
Rachel sighed, flopped forward, and rested her cheek on his naked chest. “Then I’ll wait with you. When you hear something—and believe me, you will—I’ll be right here with you to kick you up the ass until you’re motivated.”
“Jesus.” Morgan kissed her on the head and reached for the light, swamping the room in darkness. “You really do have faith in me, don’t you? Keeping me motivated has always come as second nature to you.”
“It’s my job as your loving wife,” she said. “Now get some sleep. We can vacation when Nick Hansen is behind bars. We’ll afford it somehow. You deserve it.”
“You deserve it.”
“Also true. Now please, get some sleep.”
Again, Morgan obeyed.
As best he could, at any rate.
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