Read Online The Unburied Dead by Douglas Lindsay - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Douglas Lindsay
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to feel bad.
Another check of the list. Four down, three to go.
11
Two o'clock – the time I fixed for Healy to pay us a call – came and went without a sign of the guy. Gave him some time to be late and then we all leapt into action. I had communicated my doubts about him to Bloonsbury, so when he didn't show, Jonah pissed in his pants.
Taylor and I went round there. The office had been closed up, but then it was Christmas Eve. Went to his house and he wasn't there, went to the secretary's house, found her up to the armpits in Christmas cooking and looking as miserable as ever. She told us that Healy had left the office not long after twelve for a lunch appointment and that as far as she knew he intended going to the station thereafter. Claimed ignorance as to where he was having lunch but the woman's his secretary for God's sake, she must have had some idea. Taylor persuaded me not to employ thumbscrews and we left without any further information.
Now nearly five and I've got to get going. Pizza and presents with the children. Found five minutes to disappear into a jewellers this morning, in between interviewing suspects, and got Rebecca a gold chain. Good for women of all ages, according to the lassie in the shop. Bit nervous about what their mother is going to think of the diamond earrings. Shall see her briefly when I hand back the kids. Not as nervous as I am about what is to come later in the evening. Dinner with Charlotte Miller.
Walk into Taylor's office to say goodnight. We're all just out of the afternoon meeting, where we had the usual exchange of ideas. Things are moving forward. Plenty of calls from the public to follow up and now a juicy suspect has hoved into view. Pretty much decided that the boyfriend is off the hook. Doesn't have the right look about him. Checking out a few others from Ann Keller's roll-call of friends and relatives, including the ex who gave her the necklace that caused her fight with the boyfriend, but I still go for it being some psycho who hardly knew her.
Anyway, all we've got at the moment is our lawyer. However, once the initial gut feeling has passed, you have to be sceptical. It can't possibly be this simple. The guy wouldn't just present himself to us, no matter how much of a headcase he is. He probably hasn't turned up at the station because he's been knocked down by a bus, or he simply forgot. Anything. Hasn't stopped Bloonsbury breaking out into assholes and shitting himself with excitement, however.
Taylor looks up from his desk. Tired eyes, puffy face, the man needs a break. That and vast amounts of alcohol.
'I'm off, sir. Got to go do the good father routine.'
He grunts. His desk is an unruly mass of paper. I've got a feeling that's the way he wants it, to keep him here well into the evening. Debbie must be out with her well-hung gymnastic instructor again. Feel huge pangs of sympathy for the man. Know what it's all about and all he has is his job.
'Exchange of presents?' he says, voice weary.
'Aye. God knows what they'll have bought me this year.'
He grunts out a laugh, face doesn't change.
'Right. I'm going to stay here for a while. Think Jonah's going to be working late. Two sad bastards together. See if I can help him save his career again.'
'He still ain't James Bond.'
Taylor stares into the morass of paper on his desk. Might be thinking about what I just said, might be thinking about a lot of things. Looks up eventually.
'Whatever. At least he seems to be going for this one. Mind in gear, cut back to one bottle of whisky a day. We'll see. Want me to let you know if we find your man?'
Hold up fingers in a sign of the cross. Not a chance.
'No way. I'm in at eight tomorrow. That'll do me.'
'Oh, aye? What are you doing after you've got rid of the children?'
Can't keep a bit of a smile off my face, but there's no way I'm telling him where I'm going.
'Things to do, Chief Inspector, things to do.'
He grunts again, no hint of a laugh this
Another check of the list. Four down, three to go.
11
Two o'clock – the time I fixed for Healy to pay us a call – came and went without a sign of the guy. Gave him some time to be late and then we all leapt into action. I had communicated my doubts about him to Bloonsbury, so when he didn't show, Jonah pissed in his pants.
Taylor and I went round there. The office had been closed up, but then it was Christmas Eve. Went to his house and he wasn't there, went to the secretary's house, found her up to the armpits in Christmas cooking and looking as miserable as ever. She told us that Healy had left the office not long after twelve for a lunch appointment and that as far as she knew he intended going to the station thereafter. Claimed ignorance as to where he was having lunch but the woman's his secretary for God's sake, she must have had some idea. Taylor persuaded me not to employ thumbscrews and we left without any further information.
Now nearly five and I've got to get going. Pizza and presents with the children. Found five minutes to disappear into a jewellers this morning, in between interviewing suspects, and got Rebecca a gold chain. Good for women of all ages, according to the lassie in the shop. Bit nervous about what their mother is going to think of the diamond earrings. Shall see her briefly when I hand back the kids. Not as nervous as I am about what is to come later in the evening. Dinner with Charlotte Miller.
Walk into Taylor's office to say goodnight. We're all just out of the afternoon meeting, where we had the usual exchange of ideas. Things are moving forward. Plenty of calls from the public to follow up and now a juicy suspect has hoved into view. Pretty much decided that the boyfriend is off the hook. Doesn't have the right look about him. Checking out a few others from Ann Keller's roll-call of friends and relatives, including the ex who gave her the necklace that caused her fight with the boyfriend, but I still go for it being some psycho who hardly knew her.
Anyway, all we've got at the moment is our lawyer. However, once the initial gut feeling has passed, you have to be sceptical. It can't possibly be this simple. The guy wouldn't just present himself to us, no matter how much of a headcase he is. He probably hasn't turned up at the station because he's been knocked down by a bus, or he simply forgot. Anything. Hasn't stopped Bloonsbury breaking out into assholes and shitting himself with excitement, however.
Taylor looks up from his desk. Tired eyes, puffy face, the man needs a break. That and vast amounts of alcohol.
'I'm off, sir. Got to go do the good father routine.'
He grunts. His desk is an unruly mass of paper. I've got a feeling that's the way he wants it, to keep him here well into the evening. Debbie must be out with her well-hung gymnastic instructor again. Feel huge pangs of sympathy for the man. Know what it's all about and all he has is his job.
'Exchange of presents?' he says, voice weary.
'Aye. God knows what they'll have bought me this year.'
He grunts out a laugh, face doesn't change.
'Right. I'm going to stay here for a while. Think Jonah's going to be working late. Two sad bastards together. See if I can help him save his career again.'
'He still ain't James Bond.'
Taylor stares into the morass of paper on his desk. Might be thinking about what I just said, might be thinking about a lot of things. Looks up eventually.
'Whatever. At least he seems to be going for this one. Mind in gear, cut back to one bottle of whisky a day. We'll see. Want me to let you know if we find your man?'
Hold up fingers in a sign of the cross. Not a chance.
'No way. I'm in at eight tomorrow. That'll do me.'
'Oh, aye? What are you doing after you've got rid of the children?'
Can't keep a bit of a smile off my face, but there's no way I'm telling him where I'm going.
'Things to do, Chief Inspector, things to do.'
He grunts again, no hint of a laugh this
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