Today's Reading
Macdara gave her a look. She had a dreadful feeling they were building up to their first big fight as a married couple. He took a deep breath and she had no doubt he was counting to ten in his head. "Walking, strolling, there's no difference."
"Of course there's a difference."
"Do tell."
"Why is he strolling if he's on duty? He should be less relaxed and more alert."
"Fine. Officer Jennings—"
"Healy—"
"Right. Officer Healy. It would be easier to remember if I could get through the question at least 'once' without interruption." He stared at Siobhán as if daring her to say something. She was doing a lot more than counting in her head, but she kept her gob shut. Exams were hard, but there were days that marriage was even harder. "Officer Healy is walking down the street, as alert as he can possibly be at the end of a very long day, and here comes your fella Mike. Mike waves Officer Healy down—"
Macdara was paraphrasing and talking too fast. These questions were ridiculous. There was no choice but to interrupt again; she was the one who would be taking the test, and she needed clarification. "Why does Mike need to wave Officer Healy down if he's already approaching him?"
Macdara threw the manual down on the kitchen table. "We're not getting anywhere! I haven't even gotten to the accident." He stood and headed for the kettle.
Siobhán glanced at the practice manual and imagined setting it on fire. "What accident?"
"Exactly!" Macdara said, as he rummaged around in the cupboard for a box of tea. He continued to talk as he set about preparing two cups. "Mike tells Officer Healy that he saw a man named Joe plow into a cyclist and take off."
Apparently her overachiever husband had memorized the entire scenario. There were days she would have found this an attractive quality. Today was not one of them. She tapped her pencil on the table; it helped her think. "Does this Mike fella wear glasses?"
Macdara frowned as he dropped tea bags into the mugs. "That's nowhere in the scenario!"
Siobhán crossed her arms and stared at her notes. "It should be. I would think that would be very important, don't you?"
"For the love of curried chips, will ya please just shut your gob until I finish the question?"
Siobhán's jaw tightened. She was going to blow before the kettle. She didn't even bother to count this time. "Did you just tell your wife to shut her gob?" She lasered him one of those looks only a wife can give. "And before you answer, I'll be adding me own crime question to the list if your answer is yes."
"You will, yeah?"
Siobhán nodded. "If a wife kills her husband but he totally had it coming because he egged her on by telling her to shut her gob when she's trying to study for one of the most important tests of her career—is she really responsible for his death?"
"Yes," Macdara said. "She most certainly is." He paused and cocked his head. "How would you do it?"
"I'd slip something into your tea." Macdara stared at the mugs on the counter. Siobhán grimaced, pulled the manual toward her, and skimmed the inane passage. "'Joe saw Mike plow into a cyclist and drive away. Luckily the cyclist is not harmed. His name is Kevin. Mike chats with him and finds out he's forty years of age, with a wife and two sons.'" She pushed it away again, disgusted. "What on earth does that have to do with being hit by a car?"
"I didn't write the question and you didn't finish it." She gestured for him to do so. "He chats with your one, then fifteen minutes later Officer Healy is driving about, and he sees the vehicle—"
"Wait. How could he see the vehicle? You didn't even say the color, make, or model."
"He obviously knew all of that."
Siobhán shook her head. If only she could meet with these men—and she knew it was men who designed nonsensical practice questions, she'd murder them too. "It's not obvious at all."
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