Prologue: The Pipeline – Simon Marsh
This would be the last time. He had promised himself that many times before – but this would be the last time. Slowly, he drew back his sleeve to reveal a forearm ravaged by a thousand previous promises. The tube was tight above his elbow and the fluid, even now, began to create a new reality, beyond the mundane , without rhyme or reason. Most importantly, without reason. For once he was right, this was the last time.
It was just another Thursday. Far enough into the week to make the weekend a tantalising prospect, but not close enough to begin the ritual of self-abuse that had become his only form of relaxation. It was just another body. Younger than most, but still just another body. The forensic guys had finished long ago, but it didn’t take a genius to work out the cause of death. It was virtually routine. Mind -numbing, soulless routine.
There had been a time when a death as young as this one would have caused concern in the department, hell there had been a time when even Sean would have been concerned. Before the day job had taken its toll , before the mind numbing soulless routine had become his life. He watched now as the zip closed over a young face that would not see another dawn and probably didn’t care.
Now it was his turn. His turn to try to piece together the fragments of a life and find somebody to blame. It didn’t matter who, just so long as the file had a name at the end it really didn’t matter whose it was. Nobody gave a damn how it started anymore, just get somebody to blame. His experience showed that the kids didn’t ‘just say no’, most of them just said ‘yes’ and never looked back. Even for Sean, there were times when that attitude had its attractions. It sure as hell would cut down on the paperwork.
Aside from the obvious, he hadn’t a lot to go on. Sean , smiled involuntarily – it was hardly funny but laughs were hard to come by just at present. Sean examined the scene. He had seen hundreds just like it. The discarded needle lay close by where the body had lain propped against the dumpster amid the rotting remains of yesterday’s garbage and tomorrow’s news. It didn’t look as though the streets had been swept in living memory (which was a mixed blessing) – nothing to disturb the evidence , but everything covered in a grime which no amount of washing could remove. Anyway, like the man said , it didn’t take a genius to work out what had happened.
“Have we got a name” , asked Sean to nobody in particular.
“Nothing as yet”, came the reply from an older man who appeared out of the crowd which had rapidly appeared soon after the sound of wailing sirens had filled the street. As usual , nobody had seen anything – (nobody ever saw anything ) . Sean dismissed the thought and turned back to his partner, who continued to scan his notebook for some time searching for some information which was obviously not there.
Sean had never liked Harry since he had been first assigned to him. Harry was one of the old school. Part of the DEA since the early days, a process man , keen on procedure and clearly going no further. Just waiting out his pension, trying not to get killed.
“Kid over here reckon he works up at the plant”
“Big deal , who didn’t work up at ‘the plant’ , that was like saying that tomorrow would be Friday. Harry, expert in the bleedin’ obvious.
“Well , that narrows it down to just over nine thousand then”
Sean had given up trying up to hide his distaste for his partner, who was anything but when it came to the things that really mattered. Slowly he took out a cigarette and put it to his lips, he knew it would probably kill him, but like everything else , Sean didn’t really care. The smoke felt good in his lungs as he dragged out an answer,
“I guess we’ll start up there, then”
Sean knew it would be fruitless, ‘the plant’ provided the only employment there was in the area and the suits up there weren’t about to admit to a drug problem no matter what the evidence………..