Dead Unlucky Read Online Free Page A

school.’
     
    *****
     
    Sitting in their living room watching a soap on TV, the woman and her daughter could hear the car drive up. Then its door opening, followed by the groans of the overhead garage door creaking into life, the car door slamming shut, the throaty revs growling from the engine of the rhodium-silver Jaguar XJ Portfolio as it inched into the garage, garage door squeaking down, a man’s voice cussing about dropped keys or something or other. Finally, the front-door key turning in the lock. The customary sounds heralding the master’s return.
    ‘You’re back late, Dear,’ greeted his wife as she stood in the living room to welcome him home.
    ‘I am not back late. Perhaps you haven’t noticed, but these are the hours I work. All the hours God sends. Do you think we could afford to live in a place like this if I just sat around on my arse all day?’ He looked at the woman for the first time. ‘Like other people.’
    ‘Your dinner’s in the oven. It’s a nice casserole, something that wouldn’t spoil if it was left a while. Becky and I have had ours.’
    ‘I’ll eat it in here on my knee while I’m reading the paper.’ He glanced at the television. ‘And turn that bloody thing down, I won’t be able to concentrate. You need your ears seeing to.’
    ‘Is Sebastian coming home this evening?’
    ‘How the hell should I know? He’s eighteen, he can do what he damn well likes.’
    ‘Perhaps we should keep a closer eye on him. That’s an age when people can get themselves into all sorts of mischief,’ suggested the woman. ‘Maybe we ought to know a bit more about what he gets up to.’
    ‘What I hope he gets up to,’ answered the man as he sank into his armchair and opened his Daily Telegraph , ‘is drinking and screwing. He’ll have plenty of time to be miserable if he ever makes the mistake of getting married, so he might as well wring a bit of pleasure out of life while he’s got the chance.’
    ‘I worry about him. He’s not doing very well at school, and he’s not always as polite as I’d like.’ Mrs Emmer took a deep breath as she stood in front of her husband’s chair. ‘I don’t want him growing up bad-mannered.’
    ‘Then do something about it, you’re his bloody mother for God’s sake. The hours I work, you can’t expect me to do everything.’
    ‘I’ll get you his school report.’
    ‘I’d rather you got me my dinner.’ The newspaper rustled as Mr Emmer slapped it down onto his lap. ‘And the money I pay that bloody school, he should be top of the class with Einstein.’
    ‘I’ll go and get your dinner,’ replied Mrs Emmer as she walked out to the kitchen.
    Her husband looked up from his newspaper to the girl sitting across the room. ‘And you get to bed, Rebecca. You’ve got school in the morning.’ And then, shouting out to his wife, ‘I don’t know why you let her stay up so bloody late.’
    A slight girl padded out into the hall. ‘Night, Mum,’ she called softly as she climbed up the stairs.

4
     
     
    Hart didn’t make straight for his office after he had jogged up the steps into Lockingham Central Police Station, he first strode along the corridor to pay a call on Inspector Lynn McCarthy. He had always enjoyed a chat with Lynn, seemed to acquire a mental boost from her cackly laugh and her bright smile. If he wanted cheering up, needed a lift to go with his mid-morning cuppa, Lynn was the tonic he imbibed. But tonight he had come on business and he didn’t much feel like a chuckle, and there wasn’t even time to spend on the usual pleasantries.
    ‘Lynn, who’ve we got on tonight? I need a female PC, someone who won’t make me even more irritable than I am already,’ he announced, hurrying in through her open office door.
    ‘Then you’re out of luck, Harry. No one who doesn’t get on your nerves works at this nick, you should know that by now,’ she replied, looking up from her desk.
    ‘Okay, I’ll have to make do with any old