The House on Hill Street Read Online Free

grotesque as that in the first place? And what sane person would hang around at the scene of the crime surrounded by murder weapons and bits of his wife?’
    ‘Perhaps a sane person who wants to be considered in sane,’ Luke replied dogmatically.
    Curry dropped the scornful tone but remained dismissive. ‘No way, mate,’ he said. ‘I can’t buy that, not for one second. Besides, you’re forgetting – the shrinks said he’s schizo.’
    ‘Yes, but they couldn’t come up with Bad Bradley, could they?’
    During his psychiatric examinations, Jameson had regularly referred to himself in the third person, just as he had with the police, but neither psychiatrist had been able to make direct contact with the alter ego known as ‘Bad Bradley’.
    How typical of Luke, Curry thought, to over-analyse something that was basically simple. And now, like a dog with a bone, he wouldn’t let it go. But you had to give him points for trying. He was a bloody good cop who cared about his job. You had to respect him for that.
    ‘I’ll grant you Jameson’s a smart bastard, Luke, but the truly whacko ones often are. I’ve come across criminally insane killers with massive IQs.’ Curry downed the dregs of his coffee before clinching the argument. ‘But I tell you what, even if Jameson is playing a game with us – and you might well be right – it doesn’t mean he’s sane. A crime like his isn’t the act of a sane person. It couldn’t be.’
    Luke studied his partner thoughtfully. ‘So it’s beyond all human comprehension that one of our own kind could commit such a crime without being insane. Is that what you’re saying?’
    ‘That’s precisely what I’m saying. And so are the shrinks.’ Curry had had enough now; it was time for the pub. ‘Besides, when it all comes down to it, who gives a shit? Get the bastard behind bars and get the crime off the books. That’s what we’re here for.’
    ‘Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I mean, yeah, of course you’re right. Heck,’ Luke shrugged, ‘it was just an idea.’ An idea that, despite Curry’s eminently sound reasoning, Luke knew he could not altogether dismiss.
    ‘Knock-off time.’ Tossing his polystyrene cup into the wastepaper basket in the corner, Curry stood. ‘Let’s grab a beer.’
     
    The following morning’s breakthrough came as a huge surprise to them both. There had appeared no particular defining moment the previous day that may have led to Jameson’s overnight change of heart. Luke later concluded that the professor had merely become bored with the proceedings.
    ‘Right, let’s start from the top, shall we?’ Curry launched into his customary attack. ‘Your wife was about to piss off with the kids, so you murdered her, right?’
    The professor responded with his customary silence.
    ‘You chopped her up, put her head in the oven and fed pieces of her down the bog, correct?’
    Silence, except for the chatter of the typewriter.
    ‘We have the head, we have most of the meat, but we’re lacking the rest of her. Where did you bury the bones?’
    Still nothing but the Olivetti.
    ‘Did you hear me, arsehole? Where are the fucking bones? ’
    ‘Cornelian Bay Cemetery.’
    This time the silence was absolute as Luke’s fingers froze above the typewriter’s keys. The detectives exchanged a look. Was the man joking? A cemetery? Was this another game?
    ‘One of the older plots. One of the ones covered with pebbles, or so he told me.’
    ‘Who told you?’
    Jameson ignored Curry and looked over to Luke. ‘Good Bradley would rather talk to the sergeant.’
    The detectives quickly changed places.
    ‘I made some enquiries as you requested, Sergeant,’ the professor said as Luke pulled up a chair and sat opposite.
    ‘You spoke to Bad Bradley?’
    ‘Yes, just last night. It was not a pleasant experience. Bad Bradley can be very rude. He doesn’t like Good Bradley. But then the feeling’s mutual. Good Bradley doesn’t like him either