Evanly Bodies - By Rhys Bowen Page 0,16

and we were raised to speak English."

"That's too bad."

"In the current circumstances, I'd have to agree with you," Wingate said. "I'm Jeremy, by the way, and you are?"

"Evan."

"No, your first name."

"That's it. Evan Evans. Parents lacking in imagination, I'm afraid."

Jeremy Wingate grinned. "We'll get through this somehow, although I don't know what we've done to deserve this form of cruel and unusual punishment."

"He may not be so bad when we get to know him," Evan said.

"On the other hand, he may be a bloody sight worse." Wingate leaned closer as Evan opened the squad car door. "I'll keep you posted on what I find out from the neighbors. I have a distinct feeling this chappy isn't too bright. We may need to do his work for him."

Evan drove away, catching glimpses of the bright waters of the strait on one side of him and the Snowdon range, bright crisp outlines in the clear air, on the other. The local Bangor Police Station would have been nearer to look up media contacts, but Evan headed for Caernarfon instead. At least he knew his way around there.

Evan felt a pang of regret as he entered through the familiar swinging glass doors. Why did they have to choose him of all people for this assignment? What if this new setup was so successful that it became permanent? A bleak future stretched ahead of him, starting every day at the soulless redbrick-and-glass headquarters and ending with a long drive home. He was on his way down the hall, when a man came out of the duty office to his right and almost mowed him down. It took Evan a second to realize who it was.

"Sorry, Sarge. I didn't recognize you. What are you wearing? Is it dress down Friday or something?"

The beefy sergeant Bill Jones scowled. "It's the new bloody uniform. I've been selected as one of the guinea pigs, and if you make any cracks about it-"

Evan examined the black roll neck sweater and the black combat pants. "Well, you'd blend in well at a rock concert or a skinheads gathering," he said.

"I think it's bloody terrible," Sergeant Jones said, "and I can't stand the feel of this around my neck. Makes me itch all the time. And too hot when I'm in the office like today."

"You tell them what you think. If enough of us do, they won't go ahead with it."

"Some of the younger men like it, unfortunately," Sergeant Jones said. "They think it makes them look cool." He pulled a disgusted face. "So what are you doing here then, boyo?" he asked. "I heard you'd been called to higher things." He put his hands together as if in prayer and looked toward heaven.

"Give over, Bill," Evan said. "You don't think I wanted this assignment, do you?"

"Major Crimes Team? I'd say it was a step up the ladder for you. The local boys are livid because it means that all we'll get here will be the petty stuff-the nicked wallets and the drunken brawls-while you blokes get all the juicy crimes."

"Yes, but at what price?" Evan said. "Have you run into DI Bragg ever? He's a right son of a you-know-what."

Sergeant Jones grinned. "I expect it's good for you. You've had it too easy here." He reached across and thumped Evan on the shoulder with a meaty hand. "Don't let it get you down, boy. You're a good cop, and he probably knows that. He's just trying to establish a pecking order."

"Thanks, Bill," Evan said. "I came here because I've got to contact the local radio and TV stations about this morning's murder, and I know where to find the list of media contacts here."

"A murder, is it?"

Evan nodded. "A university professor in Bangor shot to death at the breakfast table."

"Likely as not it's one of his students, disgruntled about the marks he got on his exams. They tend to go to extremes these days, don't they? Too much pressure and some of them crack."

"Interesting thought, Bill. We'll look into that." Evan continued down the hall and into the room that housed a couple of computers. He had just logged on when Glynis Davies came in, looking fresh and elegant in a dark blue pant suit.

"I certainly didn't expect to see you," she said. "Has Bragg kicked you off his team already?"

"No, worse luck." Evan looked up at her with a smile. "Hey, maybe you're onto something there. If I'm clueless enough, maybe he'll ask to have me replaced."

"You might find