The TV Detective Read Online Free

looking puzzled. Dan gave him a brief, understanding smile. The dog had never before seen his master take such interest in domestic chores.
    Back to the lounge, a check through the CD rack, nothing he fancied listening to. The time ticked on to eight o’clock. Dan flicked some dust from a bookcase, scanned the lines of jackets and blurbs. There was nothing he wanted to read. He sat back down on the sofa. Rutherford stretched out at his feet and yawned.
    â€˜What shall we do, old friend?’ Dan asked him. ‘I can’t seem to settle on anything.’
    The dog sat upand nuzzled into his master’s arms. Dan ruffled his fur, thick for the weather of winter.
    â€˜How about a walk?’
    Rutherford let out a quick bark at the sacred word and Dan almost smiled, but the expression wouldn’t quite form. He fumbled the leash from the hallway cupboard and they walked across the main Eggbuckland Road, quiet now, and into Hartley Park.
    It was deserted, unsurprising for a damp, Monday evening. Most people were content to spend the night in, the achievement of having survived the start of the week sufficient for the day. Dan let Rutherford off his lead and the dog sprinted away, across the grass to the line of oak and lime trees which marked the park’s boundaryand began sniffing his way along. In the distance, a police siren wailed.
    â€˜I’ll be with you in a minute,’ Dan muttered to himself. ‘Don’t solve whatever crime it is before I get there.’
    He started walking fast, striding hard, feeling his heartbeat pick up with the effort. Rutherford ran back over and jogged beside him, occasionally stopping to nose at a fascinating patch of grass. Unseen in one of the trees, a wood pigeon freed a forlorn call.
    Dan waved an irritable hand. ‘Leave me be,’ he called to the bird. ‘You’re yesterday’s news. I’m trying to give up all that environment stuff.’
    The grass was soaking underfoot, the turf wrapping around his shoes. Muddy water started to seep its chill. A motorbike roared past, its engine gunning.
    â€˜Well, look on the bright side,’ Dan panted to Rutherford. ‘At least I’ve still got a job. There’s no danger I won’t be able to afford to buy you dog food, or have to give you away to an animal home. And that turkey I promised you for Christmas is still going to happen. I know it’s your favourite.’
    One of the streetlights at the edge of the park flickered and blinked off. Shadows shifted across the grass.
    â€˜And maybe it was time for a change, anyway,’ Dan continued. ‘I’ve been doing environment for five years. Perhaps I am getting a bit stale. Maybe this is the new challenge I need.’
    Rutherford stopped, began sniffing at a tump of grass, cocked his leg and left the traditional calling card.
    â€˜Classy, old friend,’ Dan scolded mildly. ‘But we were talking about me, and I’d appreciate your attention. As I was saying, perhaps the change will do me good. And it can’t be so difficult, being a crime correspondent, can it? OK, so I won’t have any contacts to give me the inside track on whatever’s going on, and all the other crime hacks will. I won’t know any of the details of police procedures, or detective work, or the running stories. In fact, if we’re being honest, I won’t know a bloody thing.’
    Dan walked on, whistling to Rutherford, who trotted over. The drizzle was gathering its strength, turning to a light rain.
    â€˜Maybe we’d better stop this conversation,’ Dan told the dog. ‘I don’t think it’s making me feel any better. Let’s go home and have a whisky instead.’
    He put Rutherford back on his lead and they headed for the flat. In the darkness of the hallway Dan noticed his mobile was flashing with a message. Four missed calls, one answer-machine message. That kind of insane insistence could only