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Back Cross and Burn Save as PDF
Chapters (74)
  1. About the Author
  2. Also by Val McDermid
  3. COPYRIGHT
  4. CROSS AND BURN
  5. Dedication
  6. Acknowledgements
  7. Epigraph
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. 50
  58. 51
  59. 52
  60. 53
  61. 54
  62. 55
  63. 56
  64. 57
  65. 58
  66. 59
  67. 60
  68. 61
  69. 62
  70. 63
  71. 64
  72. 65
  73. 66
  74. 67

The tram glided into sight, the rain making its blue-and-claret livery gleam under the street lights and restaurant neon of the square. She’d chosen her spot perfectly, right opposite one of the opening doors. He stepped in behind her. She turned left, he turned right and slipped on to a jump seat where he could see her but she couldn’t see him unless she turned her head. He sighed in satisfaction. Soon he’d know everything he needed to.

She didn’t have a clue.

Marie Mather congratulated herself on getting a seat on the tram. She’d spent just over eleven hours inside Tellit Communications. For a first day, she reckoned that showed more than willing. It would probably be gone seven by the time she got in. But unlike most working women, she wouldn’t be dashing home to put dinner on the table. Marie was lucky enough to be married to a man whose Italian mother had compensated for her lack of daughters by teaching Marco everything she knew about cooking. He mostly worked from home these days, designing furniture for an online retailer, so Marie came home to freshly prepared dinners that made her feel cherished every time.

It would be something special tonight, she was certain of that. Perhaps Marco would have splashed out on a leg of lamb or a steak. Or maybe even a truffle to grate over a risotto or a pasta dish. Her mouth was watering at the thought.

She spent the twenty-minute tram ride turning over the day’s encounters in her mind. All in all, not a bad start to a new job. She knew she was there to shake things up and already she could see possibilities for change. But Marie had no plans to rush into anything. She’d feel her way in gently, get under the skin of the organisation and then start a quiet revolution that would leave them reeling. Oh yes, she had plans for Tellit.

The tram drew into the terminus, its electric motor making a sound like a soft moan of contentment. There were only a handful of travellers left on the tram, bunching together by the doors till the tram came to a smooth halt. And then she was off down the platform, heels clattering on the concrete. The rain had finally stopped, she realised as she reached street level. The air still felt thick with damp, but there was no need for an umbrella now.