Behind Dead Eyes Read Online Free

been made.
    ‘I know you are disillusioned,’ her gaze seemed to take in each of them in turn, ‘it’s written all over your faces,’ no one contradicted their DI, ‘but we
will
solve this case.’ So they were in for a probably long overdue pep talk. ‘If we follow up each and every lead, no matter how inconsequential it might seem. Sooner or later something is going to give and
we will get real, solid intelligence about this victim, but only if we stay on top of our game. That means not allowing the negativity that’s setting in to get the better of us,’ there were a couple of murmurs of agreement at that, ‘because I won’t allow
this
to go unsolved.’
    She sounded a bit desperate, Bradshaw thought, and he suspected she knew it but he was always willing to cut Kate Tennant some slack for she had more brains than the rest of them put together. A female DI was unheard of in the north-east before she’d been transferred in, during a move rumoured to have been instigated by the top brass because they were desperate to fill a government quota.
    ‘Someone did something unspeakable to this poor girl. Why? Because they are scared,’ and she let that thought sink in, ‘scared of us and what we might find. You don’t do this to a body unless she is part of a very big secret indeed. If we find out who she is, we are halfway to understanding
why
she was killed. So keep at it,’ she urged them.
    She was right, identifying this poor girl was the key to the whole case but they knew that already. How could you do it though, when there was nothing to distinguish the burned girl from anyone else?
    She was a blank canvas.
    Almost.
    Ian Bradshaw focused again on a tiny area in the photograph that was subtly different from the rest. A second later, he was up from his seat and tugging on his jacket. Bradshaw was out of there before anyone could ask him where he was going.
    Helen watched helplessly as Jimmy McCree marched towards her. The most notorious gangster in Newcastle had to be
mixed up in this somehow. It was too large a coincidence for him to be entering the restaurant independently of Alan Camfield and Joe Lynch. Had he somehow spotted the camera jutting out from beneath Helen’s scarf and was about to snatch it, taking all the evidence with it? She was torn between leaving the camera on the table beneath the scarf and trying to pretend it wasn’t there and an almost overwhelming urge to snatch it and run from the restaurant, but how could she do that when the big man was between her and the door?
    Jimmy McCree had to be at least six feet four, with a broad chest and the kind of physique that only comes from endlessly pumping iron. The absence of hair on his bullet head seemed only to highlight two dark brows furrowed above menacing eyes that were staring straight at her. As he reached her, Helen realised she was holding her breath.
    And then he was gone. The moment he reached her table he passed it without a word, going straight to the councillor and the businessman. For a brief second she pictured him pulling out a gun and shooting them both, as if she was suddenly part of some American gangster film, but instead he nodded a greeting, then pulled out a chair and sat down between them. For some reason neither man seemed to find the presence of a known criminal at their table disturbing.
    Jimmy McCree had his back to the wall, which looked like an instinctive move to avoid presenting it to the street, but this meant he was also facing Helen’s camera. Only when they were deep in conversation did she slowly reach out an unsteady hand until it slipped beneath her scarf. With the little finger of her left hand she lifted the material slightly to uncover the lens then used her index finger to depress the shutter. She repeated the process twice more to ensure she had a perfect shot.
    As Helen was taking the third picture she risked a sidelong glance towards their table and realised Jimmy McCree was staring straight back