Blood Reckoning: DI Jack Brady 4 Read Online Free

long,’ Edwards replied.
    Macintosh nodded. He understood better than his probation officer could ever imagine.
    ‘What can I do to make the transition easier for you?’
    ‘Exactly what you’re doing now. Rather than assuming the worst, you’re taking the time to listen to me. To help me . . .’ Macintosh paused.
    Edwards smiled reassuringly at him. ‘And that’s what I’m here for. The last thing I want is you being returned to prison. So, all you did was walk about last night? You didn’t meet up with anyone? Talk to anyone?’
    Macintosh shook his head. He made a point of looking contrite. An acknowledgement that he had been foolish. Reckless even, and that he would never make the same mistake twice.
    ‘OK. I’ll tell you what we’ll do, let’s arrange a meeting at my office on Monday and we’ll talk about it further then,’ Edwards suggested.
    ‘Thanks, Jonathan. I really appreciate it,’ Macintosh replied, his voice filled with gratitude.
    ‘No problem. And look, the next time it’s really getting to you, call me. That’s what I’m here for.’
    Macintosh nodded. ‘I’m really sorry for disturbing your Sunday with your family.’
    Edwards stood up to go. ‘Just make sure you don’t break the curfew again.’
    ‘I won’t. I promise,’ Macintosh said as he stood up. He stuck his hand out to shake Edwards’, and his probation officer obliged without thinking. ‘You can trust me.’
    Edwards smiled at him. ‘I know I can, James. I wouldn’t be here on my day off if I didn’t.’
    Macintosh knew he looked more professional than his probation officer. His exceptionally handsome face and benign manner fooled people. They found it difficult to believe that someone so good-looking and affable was capable of committing the atrocities that had got him locked up in a maximum-security prison for thirty-seven years.
    Macintosh knew that Edwards saw him as a decent human being with the misfortune to be living in a bail hostel with nineteen paroled serious offenders. After all, Edwards was a nice bloke. A man who believed in his job. He sincerely wanted to help Macintosh rehabilitate back into society. To give him a second chance. And that was precisely what Macintosh wanted too.
     
    Macintosh stood at his pitiful bedroom window. It was an original Victorian one, which may have looked charming but was far from practical. Not only did the cold air find its way in, but so did the rain. The result was black, ugly mould covering the damp, high walls. He was worried that if he didn’t get out in time the spores would burrow their way into his lungs and under his skin. He had complained to Ronnie and the other key workers, but nobody listened. He was expected to be grateful that he had a bedroom of his own – regardless of how small and basic it was. And dirty. Even though it had been repainted, tell-tale signs of the previous residents clung persistently to the room. That smell. It still lingered, despite his attempts to get rid of it.
    He tried to block out all thoughts of the men who had inhabited this room before him. Debased animals who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as him, let alone lie in the same bed. It drove Macintosh insane to think of them lying there.
    He heard a door slam and looked down as Edwards started his metallic blue Volvo V40. It was a family car. Edwards was very much a family man. Two children under the age of three. Macintosh liked his probation officer. Enough to take an interest in his personal life.
    He had a faultless memory. Every droplet of information that Edwards had casually let out had been caught by him. He had memorised it and then extracted more – carefully, so as not to attract suspicion. Edwards had been more than willing on occasion to digress and discuss his personal life. Not that he had ever been really aware of it. Macintosh had a way of ingratiating himself, gaining enough trust to exact small details that seemed nothing at the time. But when