He left Flora and rushed down the hall towards him. Crisp knew he was potentially in trouble, but he wasn’t going to let it show. He smiled and said, ‘Good morning, sir. I hear you want me.’ Angel glared at him. ‘The morning’s nearly over, lad. I’ve been trying to make contact with you since 8.30. Where the hell have you been?’ ‘I was delayed, sir.’ ‘Delayed?’ Angel said. ‘For two hours? It had better have been on very urgent business, lad.’ ‘It was on police business, sir,’ he said with all the sincerity he could muster. ‘Go on, then, lad. Spit it out. Tell me about it.’ Crisp licked his lips. ‘I don’t think you are in the mood to give me a fair hearing, sir.’ ‘I think you’re probably right, but then again I’ve heard all sorts of half-baked excuses from you in the past; why would I expect this excuse to be any more reasonable?’ ‘There you are, sir. I knew you’d say something like that.’ Angel’s eyes were like lasers and they were unswervingly focused on Crisp’s.
