Read Online San Francisco Night by Stephen Leather - Free Book Online Page B

land and a farm that’s rented out. If he disappears then it’ll be at least seven years before they can get their hands on it. But if he dies…”  He shrugged. “They didn’t say that of course, they acted all concerned about his welfare, but it seemed to me if they were all that concerned they’d have taken care of him themselves and not dumped him in an old folks home.”
    “But why are you looking at these three cases?”
    “Because like you I couldn’t make sense of the fact that he’s just vanished. Old people don’t disappear into thin air. They have accidents and end up in hospital, or the morgue, or they turn up homeless on the streets, or they make their way back home. If Father Mike really has disappeared, then that has to be because someone did something to him. I don’t see that an old priest can have made many enemies so I started thinking that perhaps someone has it in for Catholics.”
    Inspector Chen’s jaw dropped. “What?”
    “I started looking into missing persons cases in the city and I came up with these three. All Catholics, all vanished without trace, all with no valid reason for disappearing.” Her phone buzzed and she took the call, turning away from Nightingale and cupping her hand over her mouth so he couldn’t hear what she was saying. When she’d finished she put the phone away. “Duty calls,” she said. She picked up the Bible. “I’ll return this. Don’t go borrowing things again without asking.”
    “I won’t.  Can we talk again?”
    “You can’t come to the precinct,” she said. “I can’t be seen talking to a private eye.” She smiled. “Or a journalist. Or a tourist either, for that matter.”
    “Let’s make it social then,” said Nightingale. “Look, I’m going to be digging into these cases, I might come up with something helpful. I’m happy to share anything I find with you.”
    She nodded slowly and then shrugged. “What the hell. Most nights we have a few drinks down at Raw Bar, just down the road from the precinct.  If you swing by there and say hello, I don’t see that’d be a problem. Just don’t lie to me next time.”
    “It’s a date,” said Nightingale, and grinned at her look of surprise. “Joke,” he said.
    “That’d be that famous English sense of humor I’ve heard so much about,” she said. “I don’t get it.” She flashed him a tight smile and let herself out of the room.
     

CHAPTER 15
     
    Nightingale had just climbed into bed when his cellphone rang. He glanced at the display. It was Wainwright. “Jack? Where are you?”
    “In bed? My motel.”
    “Did you tell Mitchell where you were staying?”
    “Sure. But he didn’t want to come back with me. I’m seeing him tomorrow.”
    “Get out of there now,” said Wainwright. “Call me from your car.”
    The line went dead. Nightingale rolled out of bed, dressed, grabbed his belongings and hurried out of his room, taking the back way to get to his car. As he left the car park, he narrowly missed hitting a black SUV. Nightingale realised he’d forgotten to switch his lights on. He flicked them on and accelerated away from the motel. He drove for five minutes before calling Wainwright. “What’s going on, Joshua? What’s the panic?”
    “Mitchell’s dead. A cop on my payroll just called me to say they found his body on Alcatraz. Or what was left of his body, it was missing a lot of pretty essential parts. They’re thinking he was chewed up by a boat propeller. I’m thinking he wasn’t.”
    “I saw him get on the ferry, back to the mainland.”
    “So whoever killed him dumped him back in the sea. I’m not happy about this.”
    “I’m not thrilled, either.” He stopped at a red light and tapped the steering wheel impatiently, then realised he didn’t actually know where he was going.
    “I sent you to take care of him,” said Wainwright.
    “He wouldn’t go with me. He said he felt safer on his own.”
    “Well that didn’t work out well for him,