Water's Edge

CODA

The Bad Apple

I lowered my binoculars. Fringilla montifringilla, the Cock of the North, quite a rare sighting out here. A beautiful russet-grey Brambling hopping from branch to branch, Lincoln Cathedral looming overhead.

I had grown up here, started my time in the force here, but Lincoln had turned into such a strange city. I began to fold up my camp chair, which I sat on to enjoy this one hobby, of finding the birds, marking them in my little book. It was like hunting without any of the death.

I picked up from the camping chair the latest copy of The Spectator. I was emblazoned on one of the inner pages, a short article written by the same journalist who had written the original Bow Street Runner piece, cursing me with that title.

"Turns out I did hire him, old boy."

I looked up. Approaching across the common came Addyes Rintoul, Susie Rand holding an umbrella over his head, even whilst he wore tiny round sunglasses, "How did you find me?"

"Oh, Harry Jake Fields is never hard to spot. He's like a rare bird." He motioned with a flat-topped black cane to the horizon where I had been twitching.

"Why are you here?"

He stood opposite me, a head shorter and looking quite proud of himself. I shouldn't have been surprised he'd be here; I had come in the Zee, and it wouldn't be difficult to find out that my Dad was holed up in The Orchard a short distance from here, "I love Lincoln. It's such a strange city. Loyal."

"But loyal to what?" I replied, trudging back across the muddy common. Rintoul followed, Susie uncomplaining at being his shield from the light drizzle.

"Exactly. It's very loyal, but doesn't know who to. Half of the city seems to be loyal to one side of the equation, and the other half are..." He chuckled, "Artists, I guess you'd call them."

"It's an equation balancing itself out."

"Very droll."

We kept walking towards the main road, where a car was already parked for Rintoul.

"What is it Addyes?" I snapped as we stepped onto the path, the lead editor watching me as I had watched the Brambling.

"We had a deal."

"I have nothing to give you." I walked away from his car.

"No no. Stop." I paused. Curiosity killed the cat.

But satisfaction... "What?"

"I found it quite exciting helping you. The article did better than I expected. Dams and murder and secret cults." He theatrically shivered as if he were telling a ghost story, "So how about this. Rather than asking for that one off interview which I am certain you will never give me old bean, why don't I get access to all your cases."

"No." That was easy.

"And in return you get access to every single one of my journalists and anything they find out."

I didn't want to agree. But that would speed up any caseload. Journalists may be their own special breed of scum, but normally I'd have to pay a fee to access any records. Now I'd be able to get anything I needed. The price was just... was it too much?

"Let me think on it."

"I'll take it as a yes if you turn up asking for help next time we meet, old bird." He headed into the car and cackled again, Susie giving me a wink, "Oh this is exciting."