He’d had “a couple of light ales” – five bottles of Budweiser and three large JD and Cokes – with the operational team who had taken out Sonny and breathless George. He’d meant to knock it on the head after two Buds, but you know how it is. Harry smirked as he recalled DC Brennan describing the way George’s face had drained of colour when he’d clocked that sea of pistols pointing at him. “Michael Jackson paid a plastic surgeon thousands to achieve that whitening effect,” he’d said. “Harry Tyler could have done it for him for nothing.” The laughs had been followed by anxious glances. In today’s brave new force, a good cop could get busted down the ranks or even fired for cracking a joke that could be construed as “racist” by any passing low-life/no-life Guardian-reading mug. One Met inspector had just been demoted to constable for a throw-away remark. Luckily, Detective Sergeant MacKay, the one West Indian officer in the squad, was generally considered “one of yer own”
What do You think about The Face (Harry Tyler Book 1)?
