Read Online A Share in Death by Deborah Crombie - Free Book Online Page B

already dead when we were walking in the garden last night. Think about it. He would have gone to the pool between finishing up his duties and going home for the night, not too late, say ten or eleven.”
    Hannah’s face had lost its quick color. “Before he went home for the night? You don’t think … it was suicide at all, do you?”
    “I don’t think it likely, no.”
    “Oh, god. You mean somebody … did that to Sebastian while we were talking just outside? And I was acting such a silly fool.”
    “Quite probably, yes.”
    “Now it all seems so stupid and inconsequential.” She pushed her hair back from her forehead with her fingers and sagged a little in the seat.
    “We couldn’t have known. And your life isn’t trivial or inconsequential. If the things that matter to us every day weren’t important, no one’s death, Sebastian’s included, would be much loss.”
    “Could we have done anything, helped him, if we’d known?”
    Kincaid took her hand and held it in his, palm up, as if reading her fortune. “I doubt it. The shock would have been massive. His heart probably stopped almost instantly. Immediate resuscitation might have saved him, but there’s no way to be sure.”
    She withdrew from him, and her voice came, sharply now, in the near darkness. “Of course, you know about these things. You’re the expert. And you still haven’t answered my question.”
    He sighed and looked away, gazing out through the smeared windscreen at the dim forms of the moors. “I didn’t deliberately intend to deceive you. I suppose I just wanted to leave my work behind for a week, to be taken, for once, at face value. You should have seen them in the lounge a few minutes ago. They didn’t know whether to spit and snarl at me for putting something over on them, or suck up and pump me for information.” He smiled. “They’ll never see me as just an ordinary mug again. From now on I’ll be a spy in the enemy’s camp. I should have known it wouldn’t work. My job’s not shed so easily.”
    “I think I see what you mean,” Hannah said, examining her fingertips. “And are you a spy in our camp?”
    “I don’t think so. Neither fish nor fowl, really. I’m certainly a nuisance as far as Nash is concerned, and the fact that I outrank him doesn’t help.”
    “What is it, by the way? Nash never said, only rather sneeringly referred to you as ‘your friend Kincaid.’
    “Superintendent.” Her eyes widened in surprise. “I know, I know,” he said before she could speak. “Newly promoted, however, so it’s not quite as bad as it sounds. I went to Bramshill.” Seeing her expression of noncomprehension,he added, “Police College, near Reading. Special Course. It accelerates promotion to Inspector by about five years.”
    What he didn’t add was that only “young officers of exceptional promise” were considered for Bramshill, and meteoric rise through the ranks was expected of its graduates. If Nash had checked his credentials he’d be aware of it, however, and would resent him all the more. “All I wanted,” he misquoted plaintively, “was a week’s holiday, and a little bit of butter for my bread.”
    It brought a smile. “Weak. But nobody can be all bad who read Milne.”
    “Truce, then?” he asked, extending his hand.
    “Yes. All right.” She clasped his hand, briefly. “I feel like a ten year old.”
    “That’s the idea.” He noted with satisfaction that some of the strain had left her face. “I’m running away.” He gestured toward his jacket. “Come to York with me for dinner, where no one knows either of us.”
    She shook her head. “No. It’s been a shocking day. I think I’d rather be alone. Just drop me at the house as you go.”
    Kincaid turned the car in the narrow lane and delivered Hannah as she asked, reaching across the Midget’s narrow passenger space to open her door and let her out. The lights glowed softly in the windows of Followdale House, as welcoming as