Nightshade: The Fourth Jack Nightingale Supernatural Thriller Read Online Free Page A

‘There wasn’t anything in the diary.’
    ‘There’s nothing in the diary except blank pages,’ said Jenny. ‘And your only pressing task is the
Sun
’s Sudoku.’
    ‘For your information I’ve finished the Sudoku, I’m on the crossword now. What’s his name?’
    ‘He didn’t give me his name. He said he’d explain when he got here.’
    ‘He could be a nutter.’
    ‘Nutters don’t tend to phone first,’ she said.
    ‘Did he say what he wanted?’
    ‘He said it was a case but he wanted to talk to you in person. He sounded all right, Jack. No need to get paranoid.’
    ‘Just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not out to get me,’ he said.
    ‘Who?’
    Nightingale grinned. ‘I was joking,’ he said. They heard the door to the outer office open. ‘Frisk him first, though, just to be on the safe side.’
    Jenny shook her head and went to greet the visitor. Nightingale heard muffled voices, then Jenny showed a middle-aged man in a dark blazer into the room. He was grey-haired, tall and thin, with the bearing of a former soldier. He had a slight limp and had a walking stick in his left hand. He extended his right hand and flashed Nightingale a tight smile. ‘My name’s McBride. Danny McBride.’
    Nightingale shook the man’s hand and waved him to a chair.
    ‘Would you like a tea or a coffee?’ asked Jenny. McBride smiled and shook his head and Jenny left the room, closing the door behind her.
    ‘How can I help you, Mr McBride?’ asked Nightingale.
    ‘I’m sure you heard about the children who died up in Berwick,’ he said.
    ‘The ones that were shot by that psycho?’ said Nightingale. ‘Of course.’
    McBride nodded. ‘That psycho was my brother. James. Jimmy.’
    Nightingale frowned. He wasn’t sure what to say. ‘Sorry for your loss?’ didn’t seem appropriate.
    McBride took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. ‘I want you to find out what happened,’ he said. ‘I know what the police think, and I read what was in all the papers. But I want to know the truth, Mr Nightingale. I want to know what happened.’
    Nightingale ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I don’t understand what you mean,’ he said. ‘The case was closed. Your brother shot the children and then killed himself, didn’t he?’
    McBride nodded.
    ‘So it was what the police call murder-suicide. An open and shut case.’
    ‘I don’t think anyone knows the real reason my brother did what he did. I want someone impartial to look into it. Someone who can look into it with an open mind.’
    ‘You think the police got it wrong?’
    McBride shrugged. ‘I’m not sure what to think. But he was a quiet man, always kept himself to himself. Spent most of the time working on his farm. But he wasn’t a bad man, Mr Nightingale.’
    ‘But you believe your brother killed those children?’
    ‘There’s no doubt about that, is there? He shot himself in the gym. The school had CCTV and there’s footage of him with the gun.’
    ‘So what is it you want me to do? Nothing I can find out is going to change things. Those children are dead and your brother killed them.’
    ‘I want to know why, Mr Nightingale. My brother loved kids. He was always great with my sons.’
    Nightingale nodded slowly. ‘How old are your boys, Mr McBride?’
    McBride’s eyes hardened a fraction. ‘Ten and eight,’ he said quietly.
    ‘They weren’t at the school, were they?’
    McBride shook his head slowly. ‘We live in a different town. Alnwick.’
    ‘And he was always okay with your children?’
    ‘Of course.’ He tilted his head on one side and frowned. ‘What are you suggesting?’
    ‘I’m not suggesting anything. I’m just trying to build a picture of your brother, that’s all.’
    ‘My brother was great with kids. My boys spent a lot of time on the farm with Jimmy and he never so much as raised his voice to them. Have you got children, Mr Nightingale?’
    Nightingale shook his head.
    ‘Kids