Read Online Murder of a Dead Man by Katherine John - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Katherine John
Tags: Mystery
Ads: Link
rang.’
She didn’t see the weariness, only the apologetic look on Trevor’s face as he brushed a comma of hair from his eyes.
‘I was sleeping. I didn’t get to the phone in time.’
‘If you two would rather be alone, I’ll call a taxi. I need a shower anyway.’
‘You can take one here,’ Lyn offered.
‘After we’ve eaten,’ Trevor said. ‘We’re both ravenous.’
‘I’ll get you something.’
‘The fridge is full. We’ll help ourselves.’
Lyn returned to the living room. The food on her plate tasted like sawdust and the film had lost what little attraction it had held.
‘You sure you don’t mind me barging in like this?’ Anna walked in carrying a plate heaped high with food.
‘Not at all,’ Lyn lied.
‘I know what it’s like not to have any time with the person you’re living with.’
Lyn felt like screaming, “Then why are you bloody well here?” but what she actually said was,
‘Have you finished for the day?’
‘Hopefully,’ Trevor answered as he laid his plate and the two beers he’d carried in for himself and Anna on the coffee table. Walking over to the sofa he pecked Lyn’s cheek, but sensing her mood he moved away to share the second sofa with Anna.
‘They’re putting photographs of the victim out after the ten o’clock news,’ Anna volunteered. ‘If something comes of it we may have to go back to the station.’
Lyn looked across at Trevor. ‘You working this weekend?’
‘Not if I can help it.’
‘This case –’
‘Is probably one vagrant killing another. It’s just a question of tracking down which one. With luck his clothes may be bloodstained.’
‘Still?’
‘They don’t have anywhere to change them?’
He picked up a forkful of salad and put it in his mouth, almost choking on the dry fronds of lettuce.
‘News is about due,’ Anna hinted.
Lyn switched channels. They ate mechanically through the horrors of Africa, the rowdy name-calling antics of MPs in Parliament, two celebrity deaths, including a film star. A clip of the film Lyn had been watching earlier came on the screen, and she realised why it had been repeated so soon after the last showing.
A woman walking alone on a beach. Planes flying overhead, dipping their wings. A superimposing of two ghostly figures embracing on the skyline,
“Darling, forever… ”
Lyn knew Trevor was watching her. She looked away. The weatherman stood in front of a chart covered with arrows and lines. Cold, rain turning to snow on high ground, music, the local station cutting in.
“Murder, Jubilee Street… ”
Lyn concentrated on her plate. The local news broadcast finished. An American detective series began. When the first advertisements flashed on to the screen the telephone rang.
Trevor picked up the receiver. ‘We’ll be right there.’
‘You’re going out again?’ Lyn glared at him with accusing eyes.
‘That was Peter.’ He wasn’t looking at Lyn, but Anna.
‘They’ve more of a handle on the victim than
“Tony?”’ she guessed.
‘He’s been identified as one Anthony George, a solicitor from Crawley Woods.’
‘A name and a place, we struck lucky.’ She wiped her mouth with a paper napkin.
‘Not quite. He died two years ago, in hospital.
Of a heart attack.’
CHAPTER FOUR
‘Many calls come in after the broadcast?’
Trevor asked Constable Sarah Merchant as he passed by the switchboard on his way into the station.
She glanced at the notepad beside her. ‘Nine so far, one retired policeman, one doctor, seven general public.’
‘With different IDs?’
‘The same. It seems we have a mystery on our hands.’ Sarah had a soft spot for Trevor, who was more polite and considerate towards the constables than any of the other sergeants who worked out of the station, including Anna.
‘I’m sure it’s nothing Peter can’t handle.
Thanks for the information.’ Trevor pushed the door that divided reception from the inner sanctum of offices and headed for
She didn’t see the weariness, only the apologetic look on Trevor’s face as he brushed a comma of hair from his eyes.
‘I was sleeping. I didn’t get to the phone in time.’
‘If you two would rather be alone, I’ll call a taxi. I need a shower anyway.’
‘You can take one here,’ Lyn offered.
‘After we’ve eaten,’ Trevor said. ‘We’re both ravenous.’
‘I’ll get you something.’
‘The fridge is full. We’ll help ourselves.’
Lyn returned to the living room. The food on her plate tasted like sawdust and the film had lost what little attraction it had held.
‘You sure you don’t mind me barging in like this?’ Anna walked in carrying a plate heaped high with food.
‘Not at all,’ Lyn lied.
‘I know what it’s like not to have any time with the person you’re living with.’
Lyn felt like screaming, “Then why are you bloody well here?” but what she actually said was,
‘Have you finished for the day?’
‘Hopefully,’ Trevor answered as he laid his plate and the two beers he’d carried in for himself and Anna on the coffee table. Walking over to the sofa he pecked Lyn’s cheek, but sensing her mood he moved away to share the second sofa with Anna.
‘They’re putting photographs of the victim out after the ten o’clock news,’ Anna volunteered. ‘If something comes of it we may have to go back to the station.’
Lyn looked across at Trevor. ‘You working this weekend?’
‘Not if I can help it.’
‘This case –’
‘Is probably one vagrant killing another. It’s just a question of tracking down which one. With luck his clothes may be bloodstained.’
‘Still?’
‘They don’t have anywhere to change them?’
He picked up a forkful of salad and put it in his mouth, almost choking on the dry fronds of lettuce.
‘News is about due,’ Anna hinted.
Lyn switched channels. They ate mechanically through the horrors of Africa, the rowdy name-calling antics of MPs in Parliament, two celebrity deaths, including a film star. A clip of the film Lyn had been watching earlier came on the screen, and she realised why it had been repeated so soon after the last showing.
A woman walking alone on a beach. Planes flying overhead, dipping their wings. A superimposing of two ghostly figures embracing on the skyline,
“Darling, forever… ”
Lyn knew Trevor was watching her. She looked away. The weatherman stood in front of a chart covered with arrows and lines. Cold, rain turning to snow on high ground, music, the local station cutting in.
“Murder, Jubilee Street… ”
Lyn concentrated on her plate. The local news broadcast finished. An American detective series began. When the first advertisements flashed on to the screen the telephone rang.
Trevor picked up the receiver. ‘We’ll be right there.’
‘You’re going out again?’ Lyn glared at him with accusing eyes.
‘That was Peter.’ He wasn’t looking at Lyn, but Anna.
‘They’ve more of a handle on the victim than
“Tony?”’ she guessed.
‘He’s been identified as one Anthony George, a solicitor from Crawley Woods.’
‘A name and a place, we struck lucky.’ She wiped her mouth with a paper napkin.
‘Not quite. He died two years ago, in hospital.
Of a heart attack.’
CHAPTER FOUR
‘Many calls come in after the broadcast?’
Trevor asked Constable Sarah Merchant as he passed by the switchboard on his way into the station.
She glanced at the notepad beside her. ‘Nine so far, one retired policeman, one doctor, seven general public.’
‘With different IDs?’
‘The same. It seems we have a mystery on our hands.’ Sarah had a soft spot for Trevor, who was more polite and considerate towards the constables than any of the other sergeants who worked out of the station, including Anna.
‘I’m sure it’s nothing Peter can’t handle.
Thanks for the information.’ Trevor pushed the door that divided reception from the inner sanctum of offices and headed for
Similar Books
