Read Online Dead Eyed by Matt Brolly - Free Book Online Page A

eyes, secrets were a sign of progress.
    Back in the town centre, he checked into the hotel at the bottom of Park Street, ordering a room for Klatzky. He sent Klatzky a text instructing him to pick up the room card from reception. He logged onto The System and checked HOLMES for updates. He was mildly surprised to see his name mentioned. May had reported meeting him for lunch, and that she had warned him not to start his own investigation. She had posted a picture of him as well as one of Klatzky. No mention of their meeting tonight had been entered.
    He read through the details of the previous Souljacker victims, starting way back with Clive Hale. May’s team had noted the transition in style of the killer from the first hurried job on Hale. How from Graham Jackett onwards, the killer had been much more meticulous from the eye removal to immaculate inscriptions carved onto his victim’s torsos. May had ordered a closer look at all the previous victims which made sense to Lambert. He was particularly interested in the connection between six of the victims who had all been members of a church of various denominations. Billy Nolan hadn’t attended church at any time during University but maybe there was some link from the past which had escaped the initial investigative team. Reading further, he realised that May would likely find out. She was due to meet the SIO on eight of the last ten Souljacker killings, Chief Superintendent Julian Hastings, tomorrow morning.
    It didn’t take long to find an address for Terrence’s estranged father. Roger Haydon lived in Weston-super-Mare, a small seaside town twenty miles from Bristol. Roger Haydon had been on housing and unemployment benefit for most of his life. One of May’s team, DS Jack Bradbury, had questioned the man. Haydon had claimed not to have seen Terrence since he was a child.
    Lambert ordered a late lunch from room service and called Tillman.
    ‘You’re not working for me, so you don’t need to call in and report,’ said Tillman.
    ‘I had an interesting chat with the DI on this case, Sarah May,’ said Lambert, ignoring him.
    ‘And I should be interested because?’
    ‘What’s my official classification, sir?’
    ‘You know that, Michael. Leave of absentia or some shit.’
    ‘She managed to obtain my personnel file. Well, parts of it. She thinks I’m a man of mystery.’
    ‘We all think that, Michael. Now if there is nothing else? We shouldn’t even be discussing this on the phone.’
    ‘It made me think,’ said Lambert.
    ‘A new one, but go on.’
    ‘About coming back.’
    Tillman didn’t respond. Lambert’s leave had been out of necessity. The accident had left him in an induced coma, followed by months of physical and mental rehabilitation. Tillman had never visited him during that time, but Lambert still received a small salary despite the accident occurring out of work.
    ‘Sir?’ said Lambert.
    ‘You want to come back?’ said Tillman.
    ‘I want to know where I would stand.’
    ‘We’ll meet once you’ve finished playing detectives,’ said Tillman, hanging up.
    Lambert placed the phone on the bedside table and collapsed into the softness of the bed. Talking to Tillman had deflated his new enthusiasm. He’d never blamed anyone else for what had happened to Chloe. He’d revelled in his guilt, replaying the incident time after time, day after day. He’d refused all offers of help, from his wife and extended family, from his work colleagues. He carried his child’s death around with him like a millstone, and it impacted on everything. His wife wanted nothing more to do with him, and Tillman knew he wouldn’t be ready for work until he had dealt with it.
    A tightness filled his chest, and he sat upright fighting the sensation. He stumbled to the bathroom and drank heavily from the sink tap. Forgetting his guilt would be a betrayal of Chloe’s memory but maybe there was another way to honour her. It could never bring her back, and he could