The Killing Season Read Online Free Page B

then?’
    I raised an eyebrow, always a winner with the ladies. ‘Sure now you’d make a pretty fine detective yourself, Mrs Middleton,’ I said, sticking in a large dollop of the Ballydehob for good measure.
    She smiled tolerantly. ‘It’s Helen,’ she said and put down her dog who immediately started jumping up on my legs, his tail swishing back and forth like a windscreen wiper gone out of control.
    I reached down and patted him on the head. ‘Hi, Bruno.’
    The dog seemed satisfied with that and trotted off happily back to his mistress.
    ‘I certainly don’t feel like a “ma’am” and “Mrs Middleton” sounds far too formal.’ She held out her hand.
    I shook it. It felt like a small, warm bird nestled in mine, but she had a surprisingly firm grip.
    ‘And please call me Jack. I’m not technically a police officer at the moment. I’m on sabbatical.’
    ‘So I understand.’
    Helen Middleton leaned down and tickled behind the puppy’s ear. His tail became even more manic. Had he been a Great Dane that tail could have caused thousands of pounds of damage to her porcelain collection.
    ‘I have to keep an eye on him. Bruno’s always keen to meet people and only has to hear the doorbell chime to go charging across. He’s not even a year old yet and he doesn’t realise what kind of maniacs drive along the roads around here.’
    I flashed her a smile again. ‘I’ve noticed that myself, too.’
    ‘You haven’t been here long, Jack?’
    ‘My fiancée was born around here. But no, we only recently moved up.’
    ‘Bit of a change from the big city?’
    ‘It is that, sure enough!’
    ‘Well, you may not have been here long, but Amy speaks very highly of you.’
    ‘That’s good to hear.’
    ‘Her people are old family friends.’ Helen looked at me appraisingly. ‘And I am guessing that Doctor Walker, your wife-to-be, is a very handsome woman.’
    I smiled again. ‘Why would you think that?’
    She winked at me. ‘Because you are a very handsome man. If I was fifty years younger I might have given her a run for her money.’
    I laughed. ‘You’d have barely been at infant school fifty years ago, Helen.’
    It was her turn to laugh. ‘I can see you’ve kissed the Blarney Stone, Jack.’
    ‘Kissed it? My family installed it.’
    ‘I wouldn’t be surprised.’
    I had the impression that she was stalling. Avoiding the matter that had brought me to her house in the first place. Everything in this room seemed so ordered. It was as if she was reluctant to break the sense of security she felt in it.
    ‘The police have been of no use?’ I prompted her.
    She snorted in response – in a ladylike manner, mind. ‘Don’t even get me started. No offence.’
    ‘None taken. So you want to show me how bad it is?’
    Helen nodded, then led me to the left-hand side of the room and opened the door almost reluctantly. Her eyes glistened as she looked inside. But not with joy. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as I looked in.
    I could see why she had been reluctant to open the door.

5
     
    William
     
    HE DIDN’T KNOW how old he was.
    Big for his age, but terrified by the small woman who stood in front of him. She had long, dark curly hair tied back, eyes as blue as eggs in a robin’s nest and a hardness in them that was no foil to their beauty. She had a heart-shaped face with high cheekbones, lips like a cut fig. Her skin was pale, almost alabaster, and she wore no make-up. When she smiled and laughed it lit up his world like a Christmas tree. But he couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed. Or smiled. She certainly wasn’t smiling now.
    In her hand she held a long stick, and he already knew that he had done wrong. He looked across the kitchen at the broken fragments of the green-patterned plate he had dropped and he felt his knees tremble. The lady who owned the plate would be annoyed. It was part of a set, a valuable set. And the small woman who held the stick would bear the brunt