The Killing Club Read Online Free

running down the back of her head. He thought the style was called a French pleat, and that it had been fashionable back in the 60s. He’d ask Naomi next time they spoke. And he guessed that the superintendent’s patting of her hair was more to do with her sense of unease in interrupting his period of leave and offering a potentially thorny case than her concern regarding the neatness of her hair.
    ‘Do we have an ID?’ Swift asked.
    She shook her head. ‘No. And his pockets were empty apart from £30 in notes and some loose change. No wallet, no phone, no credit card.’
    ‘So our perpetrator wasn’t some youngster after cash,’ Swift observed, his interest now fully aroused.
    ‘It wouldn’t seem so.’
    ‘And my team?’ Swift asked, adding wryly, ‘I presume you wouldn’t expect me to me to come out of my country hidey-hole and conduct a one-man investigation?’
    ‘Of course not.’ Stratton looked deeply concerned and held up her hands in recognition of the absurdity of this proposed job description, giving Swift the impression that she was not a woman who thrived on irony. ‘Your team colleague, Laura Ferguson, is on a development course in Bristol and Doug Wilson is in Australia visiting relatives,’ Stratton elaborated.
    Swift thought of the young, bright Laura, and the stoical middle-aged Doug, always ready to do the footwork which others shied away from. He would miss their support but there would be other cases to work on with them, in the future.
    ‘I’ve been doing some careful thinking on whom we might draft in to work with you.’ Stratton’s words were enunciated with slow and almost laboured carefulness. Swift found himself wondering how she fitted in with her high-ranking colleagues who were mainly male and given to sardonic one-liners with a generous peppering of blasphemy.
    He nodded acknowledgement and waited for the result of her deliberations.
    ‘I have got in mind Inspector Catherine Fallon,’ Stratton said. ‘You’ll probably know that she has been working in our team in Bradford Central division for some time. She’s recently indicated a wish for a transfer in order to support us in the North West division. I spoke to her earlier this morning and asked her to consider a place on our team and to be available as soon as possible to assist you on this case. She agreed – quite readily, in fact.’
    Swift sensed an inward jolt. ‘I’ve worked with Inspector Fallon before,’ he told Stratton, deciding to leave it at that, not to mention anything of his and Cat’s close friendship in the past. He wondered how it would feel to work with her, and soon decided that the phrase ‘mixed feelings’ best fitted the bill. ‘She’s a very good detective,’ he said, formally. ‘I’d be glad to have her on the team.’
    ‘Naturally, I shall give you access to any other support you need,’ Stratton said. ‘And, of course, I shall be pleased to act as consultant and supervisor as long as I’m in post here.’
    Swift glanced out of the window. In the field beyond the strip of back garden a hawk hung in the air, still and menacing.
    ‘Will you at least think about it?’ she asked.
    He turned back to her. ‘Yes.’
    Her eyes widened. ‘Yes, you’ll think?’
    ‘Yes, I’ll agree to your proposal,’ he said, reaching for the coffee pot and giving them both a refill.

DAY 3
    Craig Titmus heard the tap on his door. There were just two taps, and then the sound of feet moving on to the door of the next cell. Again two more taps, the noise of knuckle bones on steel, then more footsteps, more taps – on and on the same signal. ‘I’m here. It’s me – Blackwell. Look out.’
    He jerked bolt upright on his bed, sweat breaking out in his armpits. Blackwell rarely worked on the isolation block now, but when he did it was always the same old routine, letting his fingers and feet tell them who was there. That he was there, and that he could see them , but they couldn’t see