Contents (83)
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- SEVENTY-FOUR
- SEVENTY-FIVE
- SEVENTY-SIX
- SEVENTY-SEVEN
- SEVENTY-EIGHT
- SEVENTY-NINE
- Acknowledgements
- OUT NOW IN PAPERBACK
Reid took a step back as Hirst moved forward. The man’s face became clearer with every slow, deliberate movement. The threat more imminent.
‘Do you remember what you did to me? What you did to the man you were supposed to defend?’
Reid gave no answer. He had none. But he knew exactly what Hirst was referring to. All of it. And finally he knew why Longman had died.
FORTY-SIX
Sarah was still half asleep as she reached out for Michael. She expected her hand to find his chest. It was an unconscious routine; Michael usually slept on his back, and Sarah usually woke first. Today was different. Sarah’s hand found nothing. Michael’s side of their king-sized bed was empty.
She focused on the space beside her as she felt the last ties of sleep slip away. Michael’s side had been slept in. That was clear from the ruffled pillows and sheet. Not that Sarah needed the evidence; she had seen it herself last night. Michael was in bed and asleep by the time Sarah had returned home.
The sounds of movement gradually seeped into Sarah’s brain. The noise at first meant nothing. Now it told a story. Pots and pans crashing against one another. Fast running water. The sound of people talking. Sarah was used to it all. The soundtrack to a Michael Devlin breakfast.
Sarah glanced at the bedside clock. 7.30 a.m. Later than she had planned.
Shit.
She threw back the sheets, leapt out of bed and headed for the room’s walk-in wardrobe. There she took the smaller of the two robes from the hook on the back of the door, slipped it on and made her way downstairs.
The sound and the smell of Michael’s cooking strengthened as Sarah came nearer. So did the sound of Anne Flaherty’s voice. It seemed odd to Sarah to hear her so early in the morning, up and awake instead of sleeping off the previous night’s wine intake.
Michael must have kept her sober last night, Sarah thought. A step in the right direction.
Sarah walked into the kitchen and gave a wry smile at the scene that greeted her. It was one she had come to expect when Michael cooked. The range was an example of regimented organisation, with multiple pans on the hob at once. Eggs, bacon, sausages, beans, mushrooms, black and white puddings. All planned to perfection, to be ready at the same time.
The rest of the room, however, was a disaster. Unused pots and pans. Soiled plates and cutlery. Broken egg shells and food packaging. All discarded haphazardly across the counters. Another hallmark of a Michael Devlin meal.
‘Sarah!’ Anne turned the instant he heard Sarah’s voice. ‘Your man’s making us all breakfast.’
‘I can see that.’ Sarah nodded. ‘And is he going to be cleaning up after breakfast?’
‘What? And leave you with nothing to do all day?’ Michael grabbed her by her waist and pulled her towards him. Careful to keep her away from the stove, he planted a kiss on her lips before speaking again. ‘What sort of man would that make me, eh?’