Screams in the Dark Read Online Free Page A

How’s your knowledge on flags?’
    ‘About as good as your stamp collection.’
    Don sniggered. ‘Well, good job we have forensics then. Me neither. The boss just got a call an hour ago to say it’s some kind of ancient Bosnian flag. Dates back to the Middle Ages.’
    ‘So it’s a Bosnian. Who chops up Bosnians? I mean, in this country?’ But Rosie’s mind was already doing double time.
    ‘You know, Don, I was up in Balornock this morning and there were some real angry scenes with the locals protesting about refugees getting so many handouts.’
    ‘I know. I heard about it.’
    ‘There’s been vigilantes attacking refugees. You don’t suppose they could have done something like this, do you? Chopping people up?’
    Don looked at Rosie, then lit a cigarette and blew smoke slowly into the air.
    ‘Like the Shankhill Butchers, you mean?’ he said. ‘Remember the nutters in Belfast back in the seventies? Picking Catholics at random off the street and butchering them?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘The Balornock Butchers …’
    Rosie nodded. ‘Anything’s possible, I suppose.’
    ‘It is. Actually, a vigilante mob was mentioned, but I’m not sure they’re seriously thinking in that direction right now. And you see, just because the torso had a tattoo like that, it doesn’t mean he was from Bosnia. Loads of people these days get tattoos in everything from Arabic to Chinese – it’s all very trendy to have some ancient proverb or shite written in Egyptian or Hebrew or some crap. Doesn’t mean the guy was Bosnian. He could be from Govan.’
    ‘Yeah, but Bosnia’s not a bad place to start though,’ Rosie said, keen to pursue her line. ‘There was certainly enough anger up at Balornock, and there’s plenty of nutjobs there and anywhere else capable of mutilating a body.’
    Don shrugged. ‘Suppose so. Might just be a one-off though. Might not be a refugee. And even if he was, he could have been into anything, might have got mixed up in the drug scene here. There’s a few psychos workingfor any one of the drug bosses who would chop somebody up if they needed to pass on a lesson to the rest of the troops. Or if they got paid enough. That’s a more likely scenario.’
    ‘So what happens now?’
    Don finished off his drink. ‘They’re keeping an open mind. Still doing more tests. All that crap. Will be a few days yet before anyone knows what’s what.’ He got to his feet as Rosie drained her coffee cup. ‘We’ll have a drink after the weekend and I’ll keep you posted. A proper drink. I’ll give you a bell Monday.’
    ‘Great,’ Rosie looked at her watch as they walked out of the cafe together.
    ‘Enjoy your hot date.’ Don squeezed her shoulder and they went off in opposite directions along the cobblestone road.
    *
    ‘Good evening, madam.’ TJ did a maitre d’ bow as he opened the door, a teatowel folded over his arm.
    ‘Evening sir.’ Rosie smiled and stepped into the hallway.
    TJ slipped off her jacket and dropped it on the floor. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the lips long and hard. She caught the freshness of his skin, and ran her hand over the back of his hair, still damp from the shower. Slow jazz music drifted from the living room.
    ‘Goodness me, sir.’ Rosie patted her chest theatrically. ‘I hope you don’t welcome all your guests like this.’
    ‘Only the ones with money and influence.’ TJ put his arm around her shoulder as they walked to the kitchen.
    Various dishes and ingredients were strewn across the worktop. Plump fresh scallops on a dish topped with breadcrumbs, and salmon fillets with some kind of sauce in an oven dish. Vegetables, herbs and bags of salad were stacked up on a chopping board next to the sink.
    ‘Don’t worry,’ TJ said. ‘It’s not as disorganised as it looks. I’ll have this restaurant up and running in no time, but I didn’t want to start until you were actually here and I had your full attention.’ He dropped some cut