Death's Cold Hand J.E. Mayhew (best romantic novels to read TXT) 📖

through breakfast the next morning, Serafina sat on the draining board and growled at Blake.

“Jeez, don’t you start,” Blake muttered. Charlie had constantly jumped up and down, burying his head in Blake’s groin or under his arm. “I’m going mad, Charlie,” he said, scratching the dog behind the ear. “Listen to me. I’m talking to a cat. I guess I could take you for a quick trot round the block myself, couldn’t I?”

It was cold outside and still early. The river lay glassy and still, lights from the other side reflected in the grey mirror of water. At least it wasn’t raining. Blake stood in the lane just listening to his breath. A few solitary birds sang in the trees that dotted the old gardens of the big houses. The general hum of traffic had begun already as commuters began their daily pilgrimage to offices, factories and shops. It was going to be another long day and he wondered if they’d get anywhere nearer the truth by the end of it. Charlie gave a yap and Blake paused, frowning.

A dark BMW sat at the side of the lane, just outside the house next door. Blake peered harder. Someone sat in the driving seat. As soon as he took a step towards the car, its engine grumbled into life and it began to pull off. It vanished up the lane in a haze of exhaust fumes. Blake didn’t have his phone on him, but he memorised the registration number and made a promise to himself that he’d check it out as soon as he got to HQ.

*****

Standing in Superintendent Martin’s office, Blake knew straight away that this was about his little diversion on his way home last night and that he was going to get cut off at the knees. Martin leaned back and looked hard at Blake. “Cavanagh has spoken to me about last night,” Martin said, in a calm voice that was somehow more unnerving than when he was ranting. “Have you anything to add?”

“That depends on what he said, sir,” Blake said, wondering if it was worth acting dumb or just confessing straight away.

“That you drove past the house of a person of interest, thus jeopardising his investigation.”

“I wasn’t thinking, sir, or rather, I was thinking. I lost track of where I was going while I was thinking, sir. I didn’t mean to jeopardise anything. I’ll apologise to DCI Cavanagh when I see him.”

Martin grunted. “Thinking? What were you thinking about? Laura Vexley?”

“No, sir. The Port Sunlight killing, sir. Honestly, sir, as soon as I realised where I was, I got out of there. It was a genuine mistake.”

“Cavanagh’s officers said that you paused at the gate. Quinlan isn’t an idiot, Blake. If he recognises your car or that Vexley woman does, then…”

“Then they’ll just think it’s just me, sir. Looking for Laura. It would be more suspicious if I didn’t come looking for her. Nothing would tip Quinlan off more than my complete absence when it’s common knowledge that she’s back…”

“And is it common knowledge?”

“She walked into the Seraph a while back and told everyone to spread the news. It would have got to me eventually besides…” Blake hesitated.

“What?” Martin snapped, a dangerous look in his eye.

“I think Quinlan might be watching me. There was a car outside my house early this morning and the night before last. It drove away both times when I approached it. A black BMW.”

“Did you get the registration?”

“It belongs to Quinlan, sir…”

Martin let out a hiss of disgust. “Nothing is ever simple with you, is it, Will?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I have no control over what Quinlan does. I…”

“Okay. Do you think Quinlan is a threat to you?”

“Not that I know of, sir. I’ve never met the man. He might be jealous or suspicious of me in some way but I’ve no immediate concerns about him wanting to harm me.”

“I can authorise some surveillance on your house if you want me to.”

“No, sir. Thank you. I think I’ll be fine.”

“Then, at the very least, you’ll let us know if Quinlan’s car appears outside your house again.”

“Yes, sir,” Blake said.

“And I have your word that you’ll stay away from Laura Vexley?”

Blake took a breath. “Yes, sir.”

“Good because if you break that promise, that’s it, Blake, do you understand? It’ll be a disciplinary matter. I’m tired of you grandstanding and running off with your own agenda. This is Cavanagh’s case and, as far as I can see, Laura Vexley has thrown her hand in with Quinlan. That might be hard for you to stomach but I won’t have you compromising the surveillance. The other case, your case is getting ticklish. Hannah Williams from Media and Communications has told me that it’s getting a lot of attention on Twitter. All kinds of speculation going on. You can imagine; a veteran murdered on a war memorial. It’s a powder keg just waiting to go off. All it takes is for someone to yell ‘terrorist’ loud enough and we’ll have a major public order problem on our hands. Now go and find this teenager and don’t come back until you’ve got some good news.”

Blake hesitated for a second. He didn’t mind being bollocked because of his behaviour last night but he objected to being accused of grandstanding. Martin looked up from his paperwork with a ‘you still here?’ look and Blake thought better of it.

The team were assembled in the Major Incident Room, but it was obvious word had got round judging by the lack of eye contact. “Okay people, what have we got? Good news, I hope.”

“Bobby Price’s new address has just come in, how’s that, sir?” Alex Manikas said. “He still lives quite close to Port Sunlight. That’s the good news.”

“I assume from your tone that there’s some bad news.”

“His father is Lex Price.”

“Lex? Were his parents Superman fans?”

Alex smiled. “He changed it by deed poll after seeing one of the Christopher Reeve films, apparently, sir. More importantly, he has form. The Niche database lists