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Chapters (130)
  1. Cover
  2. FIND THEM DEAD
  3. Dedication page
  4. Maps
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. FOUR MONTHS LATER
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. 63
  69. 64
  70. 65
  71. 66
  72. 67
  73. 68
  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. 71
  77. 72
  78. 73
  79. 74
  80. 75
  81. 76
  82. 77
  83. 78
  84. 79
  85. 80
  86. 81
  87. 82
  88. 83
  89. 84
  90. 85
  91. 86
  92. 87
  93. 88
  94. 89
  95. 90
  96. 91
  97. 92
  98. 93
  99. 94
  100. 95
  101. 96
  102. 97
  103. 98
  104. 99
  105. 100
  106. 101
  107. 102
  108. 103
  109. 104
  110. 105
  111. 106
  112. 107
  113. 108
  114. 109
  115. 110
  116. 111
  117. GLOSSARY
  118. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  119. NOW A MAJOR ITV SERIES
  120. I FOLLOW YOU
  121. 1
  122. 2
  123. 3
  124. 4
  125. 5
  126. 6
  127. DISCOVER THE ROY GRACE BOOKS
  128. FIND THEM DEAD
  129. The Detective Superintendent Roy Grace books in order
  130. Also by Peter James

‘Someone put this note with the betting slip – ticket – whatever. Could it have been your colleague? Shall I ask him?’

Jack Jonas looked up, suddenly, his face full of menace. ‘Colin’s Brother you bet on?’

‘Yes.’

‘Each-way or win?’

‘To win.’

‘Wouldn’t have mattered.’ His expression morphed into a smug smile. ‘Came fourth, you’d have lost anyway. Now stop bothering me before I call security.’

‘Call them,’ she challenged, standing her ground.

‘You sure?’

‘I’m very sure.’

‘Before I do, darling,’ he sneered, ‘let me just tell you that vomit down the front of your jacket really doesn’t become you . . . Not a good look at a nice race meeting.’ He nodded at her badge. ‘Had a fancy lunch in the owners’ enclosure restaurant, did you? A bit too much of the posh sparkles? Happens all the time. Know what I suggest?’

She faced him off.

‘You’re pissed. I suggest you get out of here, before I get security to throw you out. That would be really undignified.’

41

Saturday 11 May

Shortly after 6 p.m., as they were on their way back to Brighton from the racecourse, the rain had finally begun. The grey sky and the screech-clunk of the wipers contributed to Meg’s gloom, as she sat in the rear of the Prius behind Peter Dean and his girlfriend, a concert violinist, whose name she, embarrassingly, couldn’t remember. They’d picked Meg up earlier and were now kindly giving her a lift home before heading up to London, where they both lived.

Dean turned into Meg’s street and pulled up outside her house. He politely declined her invitation to come in for a coffee, explaining he had a complex and harrowing inquest starting on Monday and had to get back to read through a ton of paperwork in preparation, and that Jonquil was playing a new piece tomorrow night and needed to rehearse.

She walked up to her front door, waved them goodbye as they drove off then entered the house. Daphne greeted her with a glare.

She knelt and stroked her. ‘Hungry? I’ll get some food in a minute, OK?’

Meg was still going over and over in her head the encounter with the vile bookmaker earlier, and fretting about the note. A note passed along with a betting slip. The bookmaker, Jack Jonas, had to have known, it must have been deliberate. To give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe it was his clerk, or someone else at the race track who had given it to him to pass to her? But it was still completely creeping her out.