A Pitying of Doves Read Online Free Page A

stood in an uncomfortable silence, suspended between the DCI’s absence and the uncertainty of his return. Tears weren’t Salter’s style, but she found something other than the sergeant’s intense gaze to occupy her eyes as she spoke.
    â€œI was going to contact the animal rescue service to see if they had even brought Maggie’s birds to this shelter. You know how she is; it wouldn’t have been unlike her to get her story completely backward. But I … Max had a doctor’s appointment. I was going to get onto it as soon as I got in this morning.” Salter touched her fingers to her lips, but their tremor only mirrored the one she was trying to disguise.
    Jejeune returned along the corridor and paused once more in front of the cage where the forensic team was working around the bodies.
    â€œWe need to bring in Maggie, I take it,” said Maik. He reached for his phone.
    â€œI can do it,” said Salter quickly.
    It was obvious to Maik that it meant a lot to her, but if it was as obvious to Jejeune, he chose to ignore it. “Uniforms can handle it,” he said. “What I’d like you to do is contact the British Trust for Ornithology. Ask them for any recent reports of ringed birds sent in from this sanctuary.” Jejeune checked his watch. “Their offices should be open by now. In the meantime, the sergeant and I will be upstairs.”
    Danny Maik had spent a lifetime disguising his surprise at orders from his superiors, but judging from the expression on Salter’s face, she either had less practice, or less interest, in masking her true feelings. Both watched the departing form of Domenic Jejeune in silence. Based on past experience, they knew the reasons for the inspector’s unusual request would eventually become clear. But just at that moment, neither one of them would have cared to speculate quite when that might be.

3
    D anny Maik stood on the landing and looked around. “Well you could hardly fault her for variety.”
    Jejeune nodded in agreement. The four rooms above the sanctuary that together constituted Phoebe Hunter’s living quarters opened off the landing. From the detectives’ vantage point at the top of the stairs, it was possible to see into each of the rooms. From the startling tiger-stripes of the bedroom to the stark white Scandinavian economy of the living area to the delicate pastels of the kitchen, each room presented a bold, dramatic alternative in décor. Exploring her boundaries , thought Jejeune; the exuberant self-discovery of someone emerging from the chrysalis of youth. It was yet another reminder of what had been taken away by the killer; an unfolding life, now stilled forever, one floor below them, kneeling in a pool of still-drying blood.
    Salter arrived on the landing behind them. “No answer at the BTO, so I’ve texted them.” She consulted her smartphone. “According to Phoebe Hunter’s Facebook page, she was doing post-grad research on bird migrations. Tracking Turtledoves. Running the shelter was a volunteer position, but it came with these digs.”
    Jejeune looked around at the slight disarray, the coffee cup in the kitchen sink, the half-opened mail on the dresser, the general lived-in feel of the rooms. It was as if Phoebe Hunter had just stepped out for a moment. Which, of course, she had. Only she would never be stepping back in.
    Jejeune headed into the living room while Maik took the kitchen. Salter hesitated uncertainly on the landing, watching. Maik, methodical as ever, lifting and replacing items with precision, making his notes as he went; the DCI, wandering around aimlessly, dragging a fingernail absently across the spine of a book now and then, but mostly just letting his eyes do the work. Opposites attract , thought Salter, but surely, you had to bring them together first. From what she could see, these two were about as distant as it was possible to be in the