Indefensible (DI Sara Ramsey Book 12) M Comley (read dune .txt) 📖

Sara saw Carla flip out her notebook and pen out of her peripheral vision.

Mrs Stand inhaled a large breath and let it out. Her chest rose and fell in the process. She didn’t take her eyes off her husband who was lying unconscious in the bed. “Mike had just come home. He parked the car and got out. He seemed distracted, I think with his phone. I was looking out of the window, waiting for him. Suddenly, this man appeared out of nowhere and stabbed my husband in the back…” She paused, swallowed as if to compose herself and continued, “I shot out of the house, shouted at him and ran towards my husband. I didn’t care that the man might attack me, all I wanted to do was make sure Mike was okay. The man grabbed the car keys from Mike and jumped in the car. I couldn’t give a damn; a car is replaceable, my husband on the other hand is not. We’ve been together almost twenty years. He can’t die, I won’t allow him to.”

Sara patted her on the arm. “Stay strong and remain positive. Did you get a look at the man?”

“Yes, I told your guys when I rang up that I could ID him if you wanted me to. You know, with one of those sketch artists. I want this man caught, he needs to be punished for incapacitating my husband like this.”

“He does. Maybe you can give us a brief description now to get the ball rolling, it might take a little time to organise a sketch artist, depending how busy they are. Would that be possible?”

“Of course. He was youngish, around twenty-five to thirty. He had dark brown hair, it may have even been black. A larger than average nose with tiny eyes. I’m sorry, I was too far away and the lighting wasn’t that brilliant to make out what colour his eyes were.”

“That’s okay. You’re doing well. What about his height and build?”

“Well, Mike is six-foot-one, the attacker was around that mark, maybe slightly smaller, but only by a few inches, does that make sense?”

“Yes, so around five-ten or five-eleven perhaps?”

“Yes, now why didn’t I say that?”

“It’s okay. You’re forgiven under the circumstances. What type of build would you say he was?”

“Slim. Not an ounce of fat on him, borderline skinny, I suppose you’d call him.”

“That’s excellent. Could you make out what type of clothes he had on?”

“Dark as in a dark sweatshirt, might even have been a hoodie. If it was, then it begs the question why he didn’t use it.”

“It does. Maybe attacking your husband was a spur of the moment type of thing, he would have been more prepared had the attack been premeditated.”

“I suppose. I think he had black trousers on, the fleecy type, what are they called? Ah yes, jogging pants. Mike had some years ago when he used to work out at the gym. In the days, he used to feel the need to impress me.” She ran a hand over her husband’s protruding pot belly. “Those days are long gone. Still, I love him for who he is, not for an athletic physique which would take hours down at the gym to maintain.”

“Did the perpetrator speak at all when you shouted at him? Maybe he had a dialect which you picked up on?”

“No. He glared at me, got in the car and drove off. I was more concerned about Mike and didn’t try to run after him or tackle him, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I see. Well, I think we have enough to be going on with. I know the desk sergeant has issued an alert for your husband’s car. As soon as we have any news regarding the vehicle, and the availability of the sketch artist, we’ll be in touch. Wishing your husband well. He’ll be in our thoughts.”

“Thank you. Please, please get this man. He shouldn’t be allowed to roam the streets, picking on innocent victims and robbing them of their possessions. If he’s stolen Mike from me, I’ll…” Her voice drifted off and tears dripped down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I keep telling myself not to break down in case he can hear me. I want to remain positive, if that will help see him through this.”

“You’re doing the right thing. We’ll leave you to it and be in touch as things progress. Good luck.”

Ellen smiled and then glanced lovingly at her husband again.

Sara and Carla left the cubicle and didn’t speak until they were a few feet away. “I need to call the information in.” She peered at her watch. “The team should be getting into work about now. I’ll give them a call and apprise them of the situation.”

She rang the incident room. Christine picked up. “Hi, boss. Where are you?”

“At the hospital. We’ve been at it since around five. I need you to take down this information and get it circulated ASAP, Christine. I sense we’re closing in on this bastard.” She read out the description of the perpetrator and gave a brief rundown on the events they’d been dealing with since the crack of dawn.

“You should have rung me, boss. I would have come in and manned the incident room for you.”

“As kind as that offer is, Christine, there really was no need. We’re on another mission now, to track down the next of kin for the nurse. After that, we’ll go break the news and then come back to base.”

“Good luck. We’ll see you soon.”

Sara ended the call. “Let’s get this over with. Bloody hell, I’m knackered already and it’s only nine.”

“Yep, plodding on. We’re going to be dead on our feet by lunchtime.”

“I fear you could be right. What we need is a double dose of caffeine, but that’s not likely to happen for a while.”

They sought out the lift and took it up to the second floor. The maternity ward was at the end of the corridor, not