Read Online Dead Level (The DI Nick Dixon Crime Series Book 5) by Damien Boyd - Free Book Online

Christmas.’
    ‘Pink paint?’
    ‘Yes. I had a quick look online and you can get pink kitchen knives, believe it or not,’ replied Poland.
    ‘And the second knife?’
    ‘Longer and thinner. It was inserted into the wound in the left side of her back and then pushed down into her heart. You can see where the incision changes shape as it goes deeper and the sharp edge switches sides too.’
    ‘So, he used a second knife to make sure?’
    ‘Looks like it.’
    ‘Anything else?’
    ‘She’s lost a fair bit of blood too, so there would have been a few minutes while her heart was still pumping. Between the initial flurry and the fatal injury.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘That’s your . . .’
    ‘I know, that’s my department.’
    ‘That’s about it, really,’ said Poland. ‘How was the husband?’
    ‘Not good.’
    ‘Poor sod.’
    ‘Well, hopefully, we’ll have a result for him pretty quick,’ replied Jane, walking towards the door. ‘Assuming we get a DNA match.’
    ‘Tell Nick I’m sorry about the curry but I’m gonna be another couple of hours here.’
    ‘I will. Happy Christmas, Roger.’
    ‘You too.’

    Jane turned up the collar on her coat and stepped out into the darkness of the small staff car park behind the pathology lab. She had run a few paces before she noticed that it wasn’t raining so she took out her phone and tapped out a text message as she walked, hitting the ‘Send’ button just as she reached her car.
    On way J x
    She listened to the music drifting across from the houses on the far side of the car park. ‘Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town.’
    Maybe he was. But she didn’t feel terribly festive, all the same.

Chapter Six
    I t had been a nice evening. Nice. It was an odd word. She remembered her old English teacher telling her never, ever to use it. ‘What does it mean? What does it really mean?’ Her reply, ‘Nice means, er well, nice’, had not gone down well. Still, she knew what it meant and it applied to last night. Her English teacher could just get stuffed.
    Nick had done his best. It had been a nice meal, with a nice bottle of wine and even her choice of film. He had been making a real effort and she had done her best not to let on that she wasn’t really in the mood. She’d rather have gone to the Red Cow and got drunk.
    She had been lying awake since just after 5 a.m. listening to Monty snoring and was dozing when she thought she heard a car in the road outside the cottage. It was confirmed when Monty woke up and started barking.
    ‘What’s going on?’ asked Dixon.
    ‘Someone outside.’
    ‘What time is it?’
    Jane looked at her phone. ‘Nearly seven,’ she said, jumping out of bed and peering out through a gap in the curtains. ‘It’s Janice.’
    She threw on her dressing gown and ran downstairs, opening the front door just as Janice was reaching up to knock on it.
    ‘It’s Christmas Day, Janice.’
    ‘It is. And we’ve got a match.’
    ‘Come in.’
    Janice stepped into the cottage and Jane closed the door behind her.
    ‘He’s fine,’ said Jane, as Monty came tearing down the stairs.
    ‘We’ve met before,’ replied Janice.
    Dixon appeared at the top of the stairs. He had thrown on a pair of jeans and was pulling a polo shirt over his head.
    ‘Hi, Jan.’
    ‘Happy Christmas, Nick.’
    ‘I thought you were supposed to come down the chimney?’
    ‘Very funny.’
    ‘Tell me about this profile,’ said Jane.
    ‘It’s off the fag butt on the landing. They got nothing off the cigarettes in the lane and there was too much acid in the vomit, apparently.’
    ‘Who is it?’
    ‘John Stanniland. Previous convictions for burglary and possession with intent to supply. Class A. And according to DVLA he drives a Vauxhall Astra van. A diesel. We’re on our way to pick him up now.’
    ‘Where does he live?’ asked Jane.
    ‘He’s got a flat in Bristol. Apsley Road. It’s off Whiteladies Road.’
    ‘Nice part of town.’
    ‘It is.’
    ‘Why don’t we