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387 pages, Hardcover
First published November 3, 2016
"So when a bunch of fucking kids waltz into the building, the DPG wants to know how. And I get woken up in the middle of the fucking night," said Seawoll. "And told to find out on pain of getting a bollocking. Me?" he said in outrage. "Getting a bollocking? And just when I thought things couldn't descend further into the brown stuff--here you are."
"So he's a French fairy tale," said Seawoll and turned to look, thank god, at Nightingale instead of me. "Is he?"
"That's a difficult question, Alexander," said Nightingale.
"I know it's a difficult question, Thomas," said Seawoll slowly. "That's why I'm fucking asking it.
"Yes, but do you want to know the actual answer?" said Nightingale. "You've always proved reluctant in the past. Am I to understand that you've changed your attitude?"
"You can fucking understand what you bloody like," said Seawoll. "But in this case I do bloody want to know because I don't want to lose any more officers to things I don't fucking understand." He glanced at me and frowned. "Two is too many."
Generally when you're interviewing somebody and they seem remarkably calm about one crime, it's because they're relieved you haven't found out about something else.
Bollocks, I thought, or testiculi or possibly testiculos if we were using the accusative.
"What I'm saying here," Seawoll had said, "is try to limit the amount of damage you do to none fucking whatsoever."
I don't know where I got this reputation for property damage, I really don't--it's totally unfair.
"I'm planning to blow up some phones for science."
[Nightingale] caught Guleed's eye.
'Sahra,' he said, 'things are likely to get somewhat esoteric before the end, and this is not something you're trained for. I can't, in all conscience, ask you to join us.'
'If it's all the same to you, sir, I think I'm going to have to see this through,' she said. 'Inshallah.' As God wills it.
'Good show,' said Nightingale.