14
Bong watched Barmy return to his office, curious as to who he might be telephoning, but left it. It was pretty much the end of the working day and he was not one of those people who worked all hours. He considered he did enough in his eight to five or six, and had no need or desire to impress the police hierarchy, and they, in return, accepted Bong for who he was, along with his timekeeping, his regularity. He was, after all, successful being who he was, it was just in the other departments of life the man struggled, and his colleagues didn’t really care about that, or him, truthfully. Bong never went for a drink with the lads or participated in office banter. Sadly he was a large proportion of that banter, but he never reacted; couldn’t think what to say, and by the time he had, it wa
