Guilty as Sin Read Online Free Page B

the scene of the crime, this is a male body – not a female. The fact that the skull contained three pounds of sawdust where the brain should be was the major give-away.” She shot a wry smile at Culverhouse.
    “Very good, Miss Grey. And there was me thinking this was a skilled profession.”
    “Oh, it is. In fact, you'll be pleased to know that the real give-away was that his brain was actually larger than a woman's would be. Most men's brains are. We just use ours more effectively,” she added, before Culverhouse could speak.
    “Is there anything we could use to try and identify the body? Dental records?”
    “Not much left of the teeth, I'm afraid. They've been bashed around a fair bit.”
    “Skin swabs?”
    “Nothing that matches the police database.”
    “Hair follicles?”
    “Again, no match.”
    “Great. So how the bloody hell are we meant to identify who he was?”
    “I can tell you, Inspector. A Mr Robert Arthurs, of 9 Vicarage Road. Born 16 th July 1953.”
    “That's very precise, Dr Grey.”
    “Yes, well it does help when the deceased remembers to keep his driving licence in his wallet.” Janet Grey grinned as she held up the pristine pink card. “Although, I would have thought you'd have checked that already.”
    “Well, I must admit that when you've got a body with half its face and flesh missing, you don't tend to expect to need to go hunting for his library card.”
    “First rule of policing, Inspector. Remember the basics!”
    “Thank you, Doctor. I'll bear that in mind next time I'm telling you how to spend your day prodding at dead bodies.”
    Janet Grey ignored the comment. “Your problem now, Inspector, is to find out who Mr Arthurs was and why he was in the warehouse.”
    “Well, presuming he's the same Bob Arthurs who was a partner in Radley Stationery, I don't think that will be too difficult.”

15
     
     
    Darren Parker had to get out of the house, if only for an hour or two. The constant, nervous waiting and anguish was too much. Would it look insensitive to go out for a drink or two? He told himself not. It would help him to cope.
    He couldn't drink at his local, The Spitfire Inn. One thing he didn't want was to get dragged into conversation with people who would only ask about Danielle and whether there had been any news. He could do without that for one night.
    The evening was warm, so he decided he'd head for the other side of Mildenheath. The George and Dragon – he'd not been there in a while. A few pints of bitter would slip down nicely; numb the pain. In his heart of hearts, he knew that phone call or visit from the police would come sooner or later. The thought of what he had to lose was unbearable. In his heart, Danielle was his.
    He felt a drop of sweat running down his spinal recess, collecting in the waistband at the top of his shorts. Summer nights in Mildeneath were sometimes unbearably humid. The joys of living in a built-up area. An area where everyone knew everyone. An area where no secret was ever safe.
     
    The welcoming noise of friendly chatter, barstools groaning on wooden floorboards and the smell of freshly-poured beer transformed the George and Dragon into a heavenly escape from the outside world. Pulling a barstool towards him, Darren ordered a pint of Sunshine Bitter and allowed himself to soak up the atmosphere and surroundings. He could allow himself to forget the outside world for an hour or two. God would grant him that.
    A man adjacent to Darren was excitedly telling his friend about his news of the day. “I'm tellin' you, Pete. Absolutely mutilated. Ol' Mr Radley came in this mornin' and found 'im sat there in the middle of the ware'ouse. 'Alf 'is face missin', 'e reckons.”
    “Shit. Sounds like a contract killing to me.”
    “Nah, you've been watchin' too many of them gangster films, aintcha? Not too far from the troof, though. See, a few boys down the ware'ouse reckon ol' Gary McCann might 'ave 'ad summink to do wiv it.” The man's eyes