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commissioners like to keep an eye on the Stricklands of the world as much as you do. Rocket, you spoken to the police union yet?’
    ‘Tried to. Nobody’s bothered to ring me back.’
    ‘Nice to know you can rely on them when you need them, huh?’ Broadbent stood and reached for his coat. ‘I wouldn’t watch the news tonight if I were you, Rocket.’
    Laver stared past Broadbent, out the window to the wall of the next office building, and didn’t say a word.
    Broadbent was playing with his tie now. ‘Rocket, I’m not going to lie to you. The pollies might win this. But I will do everything I can to protect you along the way.’
    Laver still didn’t speak. Broadbent walked around the desk and faced him.
    ‘I know this sounds stupid, but just ride it out, mate. There’s nothing you can do about the inquiry. You’ve made your statement, the coroner has made his, everybody from here to bloody Darwin has been or will be interviewed. It’s out of your hands. It’s not entirely out of my hands and you know I’ll do whatever I can, so just relax.’
    ‘Relax …’
    ‘Yeah.’ Broadbent sounded almost surprised. ‘Enjoy not having the responsibilities and stress of Major Crime for a while. Piss off at 5 pm and enjoy being home in time for dinner and a regular root for a change.’
    Laver sighed and got to his feet. ‘Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for saving my pay packet, Neil. I do appreciate that and what you’re doing. I’m just so fucking snaky about this whole process. It’s got nothing to do with the fact the bastard was coming at me, firing, and I had to shoot. How are the other inquiries going? Will Shifter get off?’
    Broadbent shrugged and grimaced. ‘It’s hard to say. It doesn’t help him that the imitation gun was made of rubber. My kid’s got one that looks more realistic.’
    Broadbent looked at his watch and headed for the door but Laver stopped him. ‘Hey Neil, I’ve got one more question. What exactly is the Mobile Public Interaction Squad?’
    Broadbent couldn’t help himself. He smiled. ‘That’s the best part. You’re going to love this. You’re joining the mountain bike police.’
    ‘Huh?’
    ‘Your job, as of now, is to ride around the city, tell tourists how to get from Bourke Street to Elizabeth Street, and occasionally give tickets to haphazard drivers.’
    ‘You’re joking. You’re not serious.’
    ‘Happy pedalling. And remember: try to relax.’
    ***
    The Victorian Police Force being like any other government department, gossip travelled faster than a taxi between Lonsdale Street and St Kilda Road. By the time Laver stood at the squad room door, his squad was ready for him.
    Steve Duncan was on the phone, saying ‘What? WHAT?? Oh my God! Incredible!’
    He spun around and put a hand over the receiver. ‘Everybody, on your feet. There’s a major pursuit taking place involving the Mobile Public Interaction Squad!’
    ‘Seriously? Not those heavies from the mountain bike patrol?’ gasped ‘Spider’ Funnal, who’d dropped by from the Soggies for the occasion.
    ‘Apparently they’re chasing some eleven-year-old kid on a dragster. The chase started at Flinders Street Station twenty minutes ago and they’ve made it all the way to the Arts Centre!’
    ‘But that’s gotta be two hundred metres!’ gasped Mark Campbell.
    Evelyn Calomoulous tore a sheet off the fax machine. ‘It’s coming in over the wire now! “Witnesses said the pursuit reached speeds of up to thirteen kilometres per hour!”’
    Laver adopted a pose: arms folded, an eyebrow raised, scowling.
    Duncan pretended to listen to the phone again, then slumped back in his chair in relief. ‘It’s over! It’s all over! Apparently the cops had to call it off in case somebody collided with a lollipop lady at a school crossing or something.’
    ‘Oh hi, Rocket. Didn’t see you there,’ said Funnel.
    ‘Fucking hilarious,’ Laver told the room, gathering his wallet, keys, and other stuff small