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

Ufford said, spraying crisp crumbs between them. He cleared his throat. “I was starving, George. I forgot my lunch this morning in all the panic.”

“You don’t look like you’re panicking now. Do I have to worry about Ollerthwaite finding anything he shouldn’t?”

“I’m working on it…”

“No, you aren’t. You’re stuffing your face with crisps that aren’t yours. Get back to your desk and sort this mess out. If that detective finds anything iffy, we’re finished.”

“Relax, have you spoken to him? He’s a right dozy pillock. God, he nearly put me to sleep just asking me for the passwords.”

George grabbed Ufford by the lapels of his brown suit. “He’s dull, yes. Boring, obviously. How d’you think he gets his kicks? Jet skiing? Paragliding? No, his idea of a good time is picking through our accounts digit by dreary digit. He’s exactly the kind of person who will pick us up on every fucking dot and every fucking dash. So those accounts better be squeaky clean by the time he gets to them, or else!” He pushed Ufford back, sending him crashing into a pile of boxes and stormed off.

For a moment, Quentin Ufford lay there amongst the crushed boxes, shocked. There was no need for George to be like that, but he knew what would happen if Ollerthwaite found any irregularities. He clambered to his feet.

Terry White appeared, looming over him. “You okay, Quentin?” he said.

“Yeah, Terry, I’m fine,” Quentin said, watching George stamping across the warehouse. “As you were Terry, as you were, mate.”

*****

Looking at Lex Price, Blake wondered if there would even be any point in trying to restrain him if he kicked off. The man rippled with muscle. Blake had seen enough steroid merchants who looked like they had cushions stuffed up their sleeves but could barely make it up the stairs without getting breathless. Price exuded a rare kind of menace. There was just something about the way the man moved that told you he could snap you in half without breaking into a sweat. Blake really didn’t want to find out, if he could help it. But Price’s face was hardening and his foot was jigging.

“You spend a lot of time hanging round Port Sunlight, Bobby. What is it you like about the place? The architecture?” Blake said. “You a fan of the Arts and Crafts Movement?”

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” Bobby said.

“Please don’t take the piss out of my son, DCI Blake,” Lex said. “He’s not a genius but…”

“I could’ve joined the Army,” Bobby said, scowling. “I’m not fucking stupid.”

Lex’s face twisted into a sneer. “You, a fucking toy soldier, lad? Get a grip. Anyway, answer DCI Blake what were you doing down the village?”

“Dunno. Just like it there. Lots of places to chill out, like in the Dell…”

“The baseball bat you had with you, Bobby, where did it come from?”

“What’s with the interest in the baseball bat all of a sudden?” Lex Price said.

“We know that the bat was used in another assault the night before Bobby attacked Mr Smith,” Blake said. “We need to know what Bobby was doing the night before…”

“You’re talking about the murder, right? My son is not a fucking murderer!”

Blake raised his hands. “If that’s the case, we need to know what Bobby was doing that night and where the bat came from. Can you tell us that Bobby?”

“No comment,” Bobby said.

“Come on, son, you can tell them,” Lex said. “There’s no shame. You don’t want to go down for something you didn’t do.”

“You told your mates that it was you who killed Paul Travis after the argument you had last week. Your DNA is all over the bat. Nobody else’s. right now, you’re our prime suspect for murder.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Lex spat. “Just tell them the truth, Bobby. Now.”

Bobby glanced at his dad. “I found it,” Bobby said.

“Where did you find it, Bobby?”

“Go on, son…”

“I-I’m scared… they’ll cut my head off…”

“What?” Blake gave Vikki a quizzical look, but she looked as puzzled as he did.

“Who will, Bobby?” she said.

Bobby stared at her. “Them… them… I can’t say…”

“Bobby, you aren’t making much sense. Can you explain where you found the baseball bat, first? If you’re worried about your safety, we can protect you,” Blake said, eyeing Lex Price and thinking that Bobby didn’t really need much protection while his dad was around.

“I found it in Port Sunlight. I saw the men beating up that Travis guy. When they’d finished with him, they walked off and threw the bat on the ground. I picked it up. Dunno what I was thinking of…”

“So you saw Paul Travis being attacked?”

Bobby nodded. “I-I was hanging out in the Hillsborough Gardens thing you know just behind the war memorial when I heard the noise. It was like hammers. Then I looked and saw them…”

“How many were there, Bobby?”

“Two men, all dressed in black, with face masks on.”

Vikki raised her eyebrows. “You said you were scared they’d cut your head off, Bobby. Why say that?”

“They were terrorists, weren’t they? Them muslamic terrorists!”

Chapter 21

Superintendent Martin had a good line in weary expressions, Blake had to admit. The current one needed no words but he gave them anyway. “Why can’t anything be straight-forward, Blake? Why does it always have to get complicated? We’ve got the local community up in arms about the Travis murder and now you’re telling me it’s a possible terrorist attack?”

“I’m dubious, sir. Lex Price…”

“Lex? Who the hell calls their kid Lex?”

“He’s actually Bobby Price’s father. Changed it by deed poll…”

“Really? Good to know we’re dealing with Wirral’s crème-de-la-crème, Blake. Sorry, carry on,” he said, massaging the bridge of his nose.

“Lex Price has previous for hate speech. He’s been bound over for harassing some Syrian asylum seekers recently. I wouldn’t be surprised if Bobby hasn’t been put up to it by his father.”

“Any evidence for that?”

“Bobby says that the men he saw were dressed in black and wearing face masks. So how could he know if they were white or black or any other