Chapter Twenty-three
When Matthew first saw Angelo in the foyer of the Central Court of Petty Sessions for his committal proceedings, he was shocked by the detective’s appearance. Angelo’s eyes were sunken, his skin was a greyish tone, and his normally energetic manner had disappeared, replaced by a detached and vacant demeanour. It was as though he was on a strong tranquiliser or some illegal substance, but when questioned, Angelo shook his head.
‘My only drug is reality,’ Angelo had murmured, ‘and it’s a bastard.’
Matthew had to decide between his desire to let his friend know everything that he was doing, and his pragmatic side, which told him to say nothing.
‘I’ve got a few lines of investigation going,’ he said finally, ‘and they’re bound to come up with something. When that happe
