Read Online Challis - 04 - Chain of Evidence by Garry Disher - Free Book Online
Authors: Garry Disher
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lab
sometimes takes days to furnish results.
Was he after praise? Thank you.
At your service, Riggs said,
closing the connection with a brisk click.
Ellen stared at the wall again, then
picked up her desk phone and dialled.
Fielding occasional calls from
journalists, and referring them to the media office, she worked until 10 pm.
Without the benefit of daylight or fresh leads, there was no point in hanging
on later than that. Shed be of more use to Katie Blasko tomorrow morning, with
a clear head, and so she clattered swiftly down the stairs and out into the car
park at the rear of the police station. More than once on the drive along the
moonlit back roads did she think about turning back and doing an all-nighter at
the station. She wanted to be in her office, not in Hal Challiss unfamiliar
bath, kitchen or bed, when the body was found.
For she was sure thered be a body,
crammed into a culvert somewhere, or tossed onto waste ground. Katie Blasko
would be torn and bruised, internally and externally. Ligature marks on her
wrists and ankles, maybe her neck. Things organic and inorganic would have been
inserted into her. Shed have been photographed and videoed by the creep or
creeps who abducted her, the images transferred onto compact disc and sold
overseas or stored on computers and e-mailed all over the world, catering to a
range of perverts: those who liked pre-pubescent girls posed in their
cottontails, those with rape and incest fantasies, sodomites, all the way up to
those who got a kick out of killing children or seeing it done.
* * * *
Challiss
house was dark, her footsteps a lonely series of slaps on his floorboards. It
was a house to her, not a home. Without Challis there, it was just a house shed
be living in for the next few weeks. None of the angles were friendly, even
with all of the lights on.
Shed collected Challiss mail and
rolled copy of the Age from the letterbox at the foot of his driveway.
Now she poured herself a gin-and-tonic and tried to free the Age of the
plastic film that wrapped it, but couldnt find the join. Frustrated, she got
one of Challiss kitchen knives and cut and sawed at the plastic, tearing the
paper here and there. She could cry.
Instead she did a stupid thing and
picked up the phone.
Al? Its me, she said in a small
voice.
Her husband didnt know how to read
it. Oh, hi, he said neutrally.
He was renting a flat in Frankston
now. She didnt know what his life was like. How are you?
All right. He was wary. Is
everything okay, Ells?
He hadnt wanted her to leave him.
She heard from his voice that he was a little encouraged that shed called. Im
fine, she assured him hastily.
You dont sound it.
No, honestly, Im fine.
I heard on the news they acquitted
Nick Jarrett.
Yes.
Bad luck.
Ellen tried to detect satisfaction
in her husbands voice. Like her, he was a cop, but he was also liable to be
pleased by any reversal that came her way. She changed the subject. I saw
Larrayne while I was in the city.
She told me.
Oh. She had a boy with her.
Travis.
So you know him. You could have
told me. Are they living together?
Why dont you ask her? Shes your
daughter.
No, said Ellen, feeling hurt and
nasty, shes her dads daughter.
They were silent. The past and the
present sat heavily. Ellen sipped her drink and said, I wasnt sure youd be
home.
He was attached to the accident
investigation squad. He rarely had Friday nights free. Meeting up with a
friend later, he said.
Code for a female friend, a lover?
Ellen wondered if he was telling the truth. It hadnt occurred to her to think
about his love life, for she hadnt wanted to sleep with him again. Now she
felt a faint twinge of something she hoped wasnt jealousy. Was it jealousy
because he had a love life, or jealousy because he had a love life and
she didnt? There was a world of difference between the two.
Oh yeah? Who?
Are you jealous, Ells? Lover boys
gone away and youre all on your lonesome?
Go to
sometimes takes days to furnish results.
Was he after praise? Thank you.
At your service, Riggs said,
closing the connection with a brisk click.
Ellen stared at the wall again, then
picked up her desk phone and dialled.
Fielding occasional calls from
journalists, and referring them to the media office, she worked until 10 pm.
Without the benefit of daylight or fresh leads, there was no point in hanging
on later than that. Shed be of more use to Katie Blasko tomorrow morning, with
a clear head, and so she clattered swiftly down the stairs and out into the car
park at the rear of the police station. More than once on the drive along the
moonlit back roads did she think about turning back and doing an all-nighter at
the station. She wanted to be in her office, not in Hal Challiss unfamiliar
bath, kitchen or bed, when the body was found.
For she was sure thered be a body,
crammed into a culvert somewhere, or tossed onto waste ground. Katie Blasko
would be torn and bruised, internally and externally. Ligature marks on her
wrists and ankles, maybe her neck. Things organic and inorganic would have been
inserted into her. Shed have been photographed and videoed by the creep or
creeps who abducted her, the images transferred onto compact disc and sold
overseas or stored on computers and e-mailed all over the world, catering to a
range of perverts: those who liked pre-pubescent girls posed in their
cottontails, those with rape and incest fantasies, sodomites, all the way up to
those who got a kick out of killing children or seeing it done.
* * * *
Challiss
house was dark, her footsteps a lonely series of slaps on his floorboards. It
was a house to her, not a home. Without Challis there, it was just a house shed
be living in for the next few weeks. None of the angles were friendly, even
with all of the lights on.
Shed collected Challiss mail and
rolled copy of the Age from the letterbox at the foot of his driveway.
Now she poured herself a gin-and-tonic and tried to free the Age of the
plastic film that wrapped it, but couldnt find the join. Frustrated, she got
one of Challiss kitchen knives and cut and sawed at the plastic, tearing the
paper here and there. She could cry.
Instead she did a stupid thing and
picked up the phone.
Al? Its me, she said in a small
voice.
Her husband didnt know how to read
it. Oh, hi, he said neutrally.
He was renting a flat in Frankston
now. She didnt know what his life was like. How are you?
All right. He was wary. Is
everything okay, Ells?
He hadnt wanted her to leave him.
She heard from his voice that he was a little encouraged that shed called. Im
fine, she assured him hastily.
You dont sound it.
No, honestly, Im fine.
I heard on the news they acquitted
Nick Jarrett.
Yes.
Bad luck.
Ellen tried to detect satisfaction
in her husbands voice. Like her, he was a cop, but he was also liable to be
pleased by any reversal that came her way. She changed the subject. I saw
Larrayne while I was in the city.
She told me.
Oh. She had a boy with her.
Travis.
So you know him. You could have
told me. Are they living together?
Why dont you ask her? Shes your
daughter.
No, said Ellen, feeling hurt and
nasty, shes her dads daughter.
They were silent. The past and the
present sat heavily. Ellen sipped her drink and said, I wasnt sure youd be
home.
He was attached to the accident
investigation squad. He rarely had Friday nights free. Meeting up with a
friend later, he said.
Code for a female friend, a lover?
Ellen wondered if he was telling the truth. It hadnt occurred to her to think
about his love life, for she hadnt wanted to sleep with him again. Now she
felt a faint twinge of something she hoped wasnt jealousy. Was it jealousy
because he had a love life, or jealousy because he had a love life and
she didnt? There was a world of difference between the two.
Oh yeah? Who?
Are you jealous, Ells? Lover boys
gone away and youre all on your lonesome?
Go to
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