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
Shows what a damned mess I was, he thought.
The grief of the previous day suddenly washed over him again. It conjured back images Michael did not want to endure. He had seen enough of Derek Reid’s crucified body. Had thought enough of the horror of his friend’s death. And he had agonised, again and again, over the things he had done, all those years ago, to cause it.
Yet he just could not banish the images in his mind.
Michael dropped the washbag into the bathroom, breathing deeply, trying to calm his racing mind.
The music of the Black Eyed Peas suddenly blared out across the room. It seemed out of place, alien to both the time of day and to Michael’s own mood. For a moment he did not register the new sound he was hearing; a residual effect of his diminishing hangover. Then it clicked in his mind.
Sarah. Michael panicked. Why is she calling so early?
He looked around the room, searching for his smartphone. He could usually follow the sound of a ringtone, but his equilibrium was still suffering a whisky hit. It made a simple task like locating a phone by its sound much more difficult. The prolonged search only increased his panic, which in turn made his hangover worse.
Sarah’s favourite song was approaching its chorus by the time Michael saw the illuminated screen, peering from beneath a pillow.
‘Is everything OK?’ Michael’s voice was rushed. Fearful. ‘Are you both alright?’
‘We’re fine.’ Sarah’s words were reassuring. He heard her take a breath before continuing. ‘I’m fine. So is Anne. I . . . I . . . I just want you to reconsider. I don’t want you taking this risk. Not now. Not after what happened last night.’
Michael’s mind was slowly clearing by the second, but it was Sarah’s final sentence that cut through the fog.
‘What do you mean, “last night”? What’s happened?’ He instinctively picked up the television remote control and hit ‘power’ as Sarah replied.
‘Hirst did it again. He killed again.’
‘Killed who?’
Michael was confused.
Who else could be on Hirst’s list?
The answer came to him before the question was complete.
‘Jesus, no, Sarah. It wasn’t Tina Barker. Please tell me he—’
‘It wasn’t Tina, no.’ Sarah sounded on the verge of tears again. ‘But he has her. Maybe he has killed her, too. No one knows.’
‘Oh no, oh God no.’ The knowledge that Hirst had once again taken Tina Barker hit Michael like a kick to the gut. It would be her worst nightmare. ‘Then who did he kill?’
‘Steven Hale.’ Sarah’s voice caught on a sob. ‘The guy Joelle sent up to Manchester yesterday. The guy who was supposed to bring Tina back.’
‘Shit.’
‘And five others, Michael. He killed five other cops. The whole of Tina’s protection.’
‘Jesus Christ.’ Every trace of a hangover was gone. Michael’s mind was working again, racing to the only logical conclusion. ‘That can’t be a coincidence. It can’t be a coincidence that Hirst got to Tina at the same time Hale did. He must have followed him. He must have found her by tailing Hale.’