Read Online A Place of Execution by Val McDermid - Free Book Online

Alison was going to return, she’d presumably come from the direction of the village green and the fields she’d set off towards earlier. And any news would come that way too. Perhaps, George thought, Ruth Hawkin couldn’t bear to see the familiar scene criss-crossed by police officers, their presence a poignant and forceful reminder of her daughter’s absence. Whatever the reason, she’d been gazing out of the window, her back to her husband and the WPC who still sat awkwardly at the kitchen table, there to offer a sympathy that clearly wasn’t wanted. Ruth hadn’t even moved when he’d opened the door. It was the sound of the dog’s claws on the stone flags that had dragged her eyes away from the window. When she turned, the dog had dropped to the floor and, whimpering, crawled towards Ruth on her belly.
    ‘We found Shep tied up in the woods,’ George had said. ‘Someone had taped her mouth shut. With elastoplast.’
    Ruth’s eyes widened and her mouth twisted in a rictus of pain. ‘No,’ she protested weakly. ‘That can’t be right.’ She dropped to her knees beside the dog, who was squirming round her ankles in a parody of obsequious apology. Ruth buried her face in the dog’s ruff, clutching the animal to her as if it were a child. A long pink tongue licked her ear. George looked across at Hawkin. The man was shaking his head, looking genuinely bewildered. ‘That makes no sense,’ Hawkin said. ‘It’s Alison’s dog. It would never have let anybody harm a hair on Alison’s head.’ He gave a mirthless bark of laughter. ‘I lifted a hand to her one time, and the dog had my sleeve in its teeth before I could touch her. The only person who could have done that to the dog was Alison herself. It wouldn’t even stand for me or Ruth doing something like that, never mind a stranger.’
    ‘Alison might not have had any choice,’ George said gently.
    Ruth looked up, her face transformed by the realization that her earlier fears might truly be reflected in reality. ‘No,’ she said, her voice a hoarse plea. ‘Not my Alison. Please God, not my Alison.’ Hawkin got to his feet and crossed the room to his wife. He hunkered down beside her and put an awkward arm round her shoulders. ‘You mustn’t get into a state, Ruth,’ he said, casting a quick glance up at George. ‘That won’t help Alison. We’ve got to stay strong.’ Hawkin seemed embarrassed at having to show concern for his wife. George had seen plenty of men who were uncomfortable with any display of emotion, but he’d seldom encountered one so self-conscious about it. He felt enormous pity for Ruth Hawkin. It wasn’t the first time George had watched a marriage crack under the weight of a major investigation. He’d spent less than an hour in the company of this couple, but he knew instinctively that what he was witnessing here was not so much a crack as a major fracture. It was hard enough at any time in a marriage to discover that the person you had married was less than you imagined, but for Ruth Hawkin, so recently wed, it was doubly difficult, coming as it did on top of the anxiety of her daughter’s disappearance. Almost without thinking, George had crouched down and covered one of Ruth’s hands with his own.
    ‘There’s very little we can do just now, Mrs Hawkin. But we are doing everything possible. At first light, we’ll have men scouring the dale from end to end. I promise you, I won’t give up on Alison.’
    Their eyes had met and he’d felt the intensity of a clutch of emotions far too complicated for him to separate. As he stared out towards the moors, George realized there was no way he could sleep that night. Wrapping the sandwiches in greaseproof paper, he filled a flask with hot tea and softly climbed the stairs to pick up his electric razor from the bathroom.
    On the landing, he paused. The door to their bedroom was ajar, and he couldn’t resist a quick look at Anne. With his fingertips, he pushed the door a