Other
Read books online » Other » The Inspector Walter Darriteau Murder Mysteries - Books 1-4 David Carter (autobiographies to read txt) 📖

Book online «The Inspector Walter Darriteau Murder Mysteries - Books 1-4 David Carter (autobiographies to read txt) 📖». Author David Carter



1 ... 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 ... 439
Go to page:
teddy bear. Had it off pat.

Lowered the noose.

‘Go on Pandora! Go on!’ yelled the crowd.

The colt was catching the mare.

The crowd was in ferment.

Quickly down, over the hair, around the porcelain neck, perfect, and PULL!

The knot tightened.

Karen’s eyes almost popped from her skull.

What the bugger! She wanted to scream, but couldn’t say a word.

Reached for her bag and the salvation of the Glock 22.

The bag was on the floor.

Karen was rising fast.

She grasped at thin air.

Samantha yanked the rope hard and fastened it to the strut of the open metal-framed window.

Karen’s hands clutched at the rope, trying to slip her fingers inside the knot. Her weight dangling on the rope tightened the noose.

She couldn’t breathe.

She couldn’t shout.

She couldn’t reach the gun.

She couldn’t ease the knot.

She was turning purple.

She was dying.

Samantha smiled.

Seven up.

100 Ways to Kill People.

Hang them in the lavatory at the local racetrack.

That should give them something to think about.

That might make that arrogant bastard Darriteau think again. Serve him right for his negligence. Serve him bloody well right. He could pay this time. See how he liked it, to lose someone he cared for. And all the time he thought it was his turn today. Arrogant prick! Typical man. Couldn’t see beyond his own importance. Couldn’t see the end of his gigantic nose. Arrogance, a fatal flaw.

THE COLT PIPPED THE mare on the line, spoiling Ladies’ Day for many. The crowd grew quiet. Long faces. Wallets were being checked. How much are we down?

Samantha collected her bag and hopped down from the pan.

Choking sounds, soft dying gurgles, came from the cubicle next door, growing ever fainter. She made her way to the exit. Eased her way over the sign.

Two women were coming in after the race

‘Closed for maintenance,’ Sam said, smiling and pointing at the notice. ‘There’s another one just along there,’ and she took them outside and showed them the way.

‘Thanks a lot.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Samantha turned and hurried away toward the exits.

Job done.

Number seven.

Seven times over.

Mission accomplished.

There would be no more.

Now she was satisfied.

She would leave Walter alone to mull over forever his own inadequacies. To miss the one he loved. See how he liked it. See how he coped. He could stew in his own filthy juice. He’d probably get fired, which was what he deserved. He could spend the rest of his days mulling over how he let down his rock. How he had failed to detect the Chester Mollester. To reflect on what a useless piece of shit he was.

Karen blacked out.

No feeling, no sense.

Gently swinging on the end of the rope, her hands limp by her sides, knickers around her ankles, filthy muck oozing down the inside of her thighs, designer handbag and loaded Glock 22 still asleep and unemployed on the floor.

Ladies’ Day at Chester races, in the Ladies.

The mare’s in trouble.

Favourite downed.

Seven up.

Balmy breeze floating through the open window.

Swaying body. End of a rope.

Job done.

All over.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The first time Desi saw Eden Leys, she went there by taxi. She made a mental note of the route for she was determined to pass the imminent driving test. She had been collected from the small railway station at Whitchurch, and they headed south on the A41, until the road forked at the big truck stop, left to Wolverhampton, right to Shrewsbury. She held on tight as the taxi swerved around the roundabout to the right, before turning left onto the Shrewsbury road.

‘Not far now, miss,’ said the cabby, in his gentle local accent. ‘Coming up on the left.’

Desiree peered that way, at the gigantic former aircraft hangers that were used as grain stores, though the European grain mountain had long since vanished, flogged off to pay for the club.

Then a sharp left turn down a narrow straight road, a single square red sign on the left, TRENCHERMAN RESEARCH PLC - No Unauthorised Persons. The road continued onward, bisecting two vast grey neglected hangars. Up ahead she could see a guard post, red and white barrier across the road, tall wire fence topped with rolled barbed wire, winding away to the left and right as far as she could see.

Set back ten yards inside the wire were conifer plantations, thick enough to stop anyone on the outside seeing the interior.

Beyond the entrance was a two-story redbrick building, wide and flat-topped, that also blocked any view of what lay beyond. The cabby stopped at the gates, nodded to one of the security guards as if they were familiar, and completed a three-point turn, making ready to leave.

‘That’s twelve pounds, miss,’ he said.

Desiree tugged fifteen from her purse and slipped it into his hand.

‘Thanks miss,’ he smiled. ‘Do you want a hand with your bag?’

She had brought one large wheeled case.

‘I’m fine, thanks,’ she said, and stepped out into the sunshine.

‘Good luck,’ he called over his shoulder, and drove away.

Desiree turned and looked at the two guards who were eyeing her up. They wore dark blue uniforms with yellowy-gold flashes on their shoulders, badges on their left chest. When she was closer, she could read the gold writing: Trencherman Research – Security, that ran all the way around the outside of the badge in a circle.

She walked toward the guard hut and smiled.

‘Desiree Holloway signing in.’

The guards nodded and one muttered, ‘Let’s see what we’ve got,’ and began tapping on his laptop.

It must have checked out.

‘Passes?’ he said, holding out his hand.

She showed ID, and that was checked and entered.

Must have been OK.

‘That’s fine, ma’am,’ and he turned and called another bloke forward who was sitting and reading a trashy tabloid.

‘Tom, another one for Mary Craigieson,’ he called, and Tom set his paper down and came forward and said, ‘Right-ho.’

‘He’ll take you there, ma’am.’

Desiree nodded and in the next moment she was following Tom through the gate to a dark blue four by four parked on the inside of the fence. He took her case and set it in the back, started the vehicle, and drove around the redbrick building, left, right, right

1 ... 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 ... 439
Go to page:

Free ebook «The Inspector Walter Darriteau Murder Mysteries - Books 1-4 David Carter (autobiographies to read txt) 📖» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment