Night Vision Read Online Free Page A

tomorrow, if that’s OK. The private view starts at six, and Patrick wants to meet up with his friends.’
    Naomi smiled again. Friends hadn’t really been dominant in Patrick’s life when she first knew him and had definitely not been without their tragedy. They had both worried for Patrick for a while, but he seemed happy in his own skin these days, and she knew how relieved Harry was about that. ‘Looking forward to it,’ she said.
    She had just put the phone back on its cradle when it rang again. Not Alec, she thought; he’d have rung her mobile just in case she’d already gone to bed. Had Harry forgotten something?
    â€˜Hello. Did you—?’
    She knew at once that this was not Harry. The emptiness that greeted her words echoed as though she had connected with some vast space. No one spoke.
    â€˜Hello,’ she said again. ‘Who is this?’
    A sudden click as though someone had flicked a switch. The sound of a voice, tight and panicked and speaking her name. Her unmarried name. ‘Naomi? Naomi Blake? Do you remember me? This is Jamie, Jamie Dale.’ The sound broke off, words becoming sobs so desperate that Naomi felt herself grow cold.
    â€˜Who is this?’ she said again, trying hard to keep her own voice steady. You’re dead, she thought. How can you be speaking to me?
    Another click; she recognized it now, a tape machine being switched off. The voice had been recorded, but by whom? When?
    â€˜Who the hell are you?’ Angry now. Fearful too.
    Silence. Then the phone was hung up and the line went dead.
    She stood for a moment, clutching the receiver in her hand, then slowly laid it back on the cradle. Light-headed and chilled, she felt as though all the blood and warmth had drained out of her. Jamie was dead. What the hell . . .? Briefly, she stood stock still, telling herself that whoever was doing this was just trying to frighten her, that she wasn’t going to let that happen. Her resolve lasted only scant seconds. Whoever was trying to frighten her had damn well succeeded.
    â€˜Napoleon! Napoleon, come!’ In a frenzy of activity she stormed around the house, barking her shins on furniture she knew was there but could not seem to avoid. She checked the locks on the windows, unfastened and then refastened the doors while the big black dog, thinking this was some new game, beat his heavy tail enthusiastically against her legs.
    Finally, she stumbled up the stairs to her bedroom and locked that door too. Then stood, staring at a key she could no longer see and listening hard, as though any minute she might hear footsteps on the stairs and know that her carefully erected barricades had just been breached.
    Down in the hall the phone rang out again, and Naomi jumped. Napoleon whined softly in sympathy, realizing belatedly that Naomi wasn’t having fun. She counted. Five rings and then it stopped, as though whoever was calling merely wanted to make a point: I know who you are; I know where you live . She had her mobile in the pocket of her cardigan, and she almost gave in to the impulse to call Harry, ask him to come and get her and beg the use of his spare room for the night. She had the phone in her hand before she dismissed the thought. She wasn’t going to drag Harry and Patrick into this, not unless she had to. Someone was trying to scare her. Someone was doing a bloody good job of it, and when Alec phoned she’d tell him what had happened and they’d figure out what she ought to do. One thing was certain. Neither Naomi nor Alec believed in coincidence. Alec had been called in to investigate a murder. The victim, Neil Robinson, had been in contact with Jamie Dale. Just what was going on here?
    â€˜Right, deep breaths, just stay calm. Doors are locked, everything is fine.’
    Napoleon whined again, and she bent to stroke the smooth fur. She was still listening for any unusual sound, any little creak or groan that might not