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landline phone and cracking Ian with it hard. Stars exploded in front of him, and he couldnā€™t see but once again he was being thrown through the air. He landed heavily on his side, the breath punched from his body by the hard ground and his arm burned with pain. He tried to stand but couldnā€™t. The man stood over him, he could see his boots, smeared with blood and Ian wondered if this was the last thing Paul Travis saw.

He suddenly felt calm but a little sad. Was this how he ended his life? He thought of his wife, Theresa and his son Joey who loved watching the trains with him. If he had the strength, heā€™d get up. But DC Ian Ollerthwaite could do little other than let darkness take him.

Chapter 25

It was an adventure, Blake supposed, that was the reason Madge looked so excited at being asked to make the call. Or maybe it was the romance. The gossip about Blake and Laura seemed to have leached down to reception and he was left wondering just how far beyond the building it had gone.

ā€œDonā€™t forget, Madge, you mustnā€™t tell a soul about this,ā€ Blake said, the words sounding pathetic the minute they left his lips. Of course, everyone would be hearing about this eventually. Madge wouldnā€™t let a good bit of ā€˜gossā€™ go to waste.

ā€œYou know me, Will,ā€ she said, winking.

ā€œOkay, so hereā€™s the number. Can you remember what youā€™re going to say?ā€

Madge looked hurt. ā€œWill, Iā€™m a professional. I do this for a living. What do you take me for?ā€

Blake just smiled and watched as she dialled the number. He knew that Superintendent Martin would skin him alive if he found out that he was trying to contact Laura but, as Blake had pointed out, it would look downright odd if he didnā€™t make some kind of attempt. This seemed the best way without rousing any suspicions. But deep down, Blake just had to know what Laura was thinking. The idea she could just ditch him for Quinlan was torture. He needed to know why.

ā€œHello? Is thatā€¦ Laura?ā€ Madge said. Blake had to admit, she was brilliant. ā€œYes, itā€™s my dog, he keeps barking incessantly and Iā€™m at my witsā€™ end.ā€ The conversation went on. Blake could just about hear Lauraā€™s voice and he felt a weight in his chest. He just wanted to snatch the phone and speak to her but there was always the danger sheā€™d hang up. He needed to see her in person and find out what the hell was going on. Madge continued talking. ā€œIā€™m at work at the moment, would you be able to come around seven tonight? You would? Lovelyā€¦ā€ She left Laura with the address Blake had given her and hung up.

ā€œPerfect,ā€ Blake said. ā€œI owe you a bottle of fizz, Madge, thank you.ā€

Madge coloured a little. ā€œOh, give over. You just tell me how you get on.ā€

ā€œI will,ā€ Blake said but he didnā€™t think heā€™d have any good news for Madge in the short term. His phone rang. ā€œKath? Where are you?ā€

ā€œIā€™m at Arrowe Park Hospital sir,ā€ Kath Cryer said. ā€œItā€™s Ian...ā€

*****

In the busy hospital with nurses and doctors hurrying back and forth, the side ward felt like another world, silent and shaded. Although DC Ian Ollerthwaite sat upright in bed, he was unconscious, his arm plastered and bandages wrapped around most of his head. Theresa, his wife, sat at his side, holding the tips of his fingers. She was a short woman with ringlets of mousey brown hair and sharp blue eyes. Blake would have said that she was a few years younger than Ian but then, Ian always seemed a hundred years older than everyone else. Although her face was lined with worry now, there was a softness and kindness about it. Blake could tell she was used to laughter and smiles. He felt a tug of guilt that he knew nothing about Ollerthwaiteā€™s personal life and had never asked. And now he was meeting Theresa for the first time over the drips and monitors attached to her husband. Ianā€™s face was purple with bruises.

ā€œTheresa, Iā€™m DCI Will Blake. Ianā€™s on my team. Iā€™m so sorry this has happened. Believe me, weā€™ll get whoever did this. How is he?ā€

Theresa Ollerthwaite gave a brief smile. Her voice was subdued. ā€œBroken arm and ribs. He punctured a lung, too. And thenā€¦ā€ she waved her hand around the bruised face. ā€œThereā€™s quite a lot of trauma around his head. Hopefully thereā€™s no permanent damage.ā€ Her face creased briefly and she scrubbed a tear from her cheek.

ā€œIf thereā€™s anything we can do, anything at all,ā€ Blake said, feeling powerless. What could he do? Heal her husband?

ā€œIs this to do with the case he was working on?ā€ Theresa said. ā€œWas it the murder in Port Sunlight?ā€

ā€œIt was. Iā€™d asked Ian to go through the books at the Pro-Vets charity. Given that he was attacked by a member of the Pro-Vets staff, Iā€™d say itā€™s a strong possibility that thereā€™s a link. Did he say anything to you about it?ā€

She shook her head. ā€œIan never tells me anything confidential about his work but I piece things together from what he does say. All I gathered was that the staff werenā€™t being very cooperative.ā€

ā€œThatā€™s useful in itself. We can look into that, too.ā€ Blake paused, uncertain whether to reveal any more detail. ā€œThe man who we think attacked Ian wasnā€™t very well. He had mental health issues and an acquired brain injury. Iā€™m not certain it was malicious, Theresaā€¦ā€

ā€œMalicious or not, he needs catching, doesnā€™t he?ā€

ā€œWeā€™ll do that, I promise.ā€

*****

Cars blared their horns as Terry White staggered across the road. There was blood again, everywhere. It seemed like he was leaving a trail of bloody footprints behind him. The sky above was red with it, spinning round as though he was on a merry-go-round. Seagulls screamed at him and swooped. When he threw his hands up to defend himself, he bumped

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