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Chapters (55)
  1. PERFECT CRIME
  2. Dedication
  3. Chapter One
  4. Chapter Two
  5. Chapter Three
  6. Chapter Four
  7. Chapter Five
  8. Chapter Six
  9. Chapter Seven
  10. Chapter Eight
  11. Chapter Nine
  12. Chapter Ten
  13. Chapter Eleven
  14. Chapter Twelve
  15. Chapter Thirteen
  16. Chapter Fourteen
  17. Chapter Fifteen
  18. Chapter Sixteen
  19. Chapter Seventeen
  20. Chapter Eighteen
  21. Chapter Nineteen
  22. Chapter Twenty
  23. Chapter Twenty-One
  24. Chapter Twenty-Two
  25. Chapter Twenty-Three
  26. Chapter Twenty-Four
  27. Chapter Twenty-Five
  28. Chapter Twenty-Six
  29. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  30. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  31. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  32. Chapter Thirty
  33. Chapter Thirty-One
  34. Chapter Thirty-Two
  35. Chapter Thirty-Three
  36. Chapter Thirty-Four
  37. Chapter Thirty-Five
  38. Chapter Thirty-Six
  39. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  40. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  41. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  42. Chapter Forty
  43. Chapter Forty-One
  44. Chapter Forty-Two
  45. Chapter Forty-Three
  46. Acknowledgments
  47. Can’t get enough of the Perfect series?
  48. Chapter 1
  49. Loved Perfect Silence? Then why not get back to where it all started with book one of the D.I. Callanach series?
  50. Welcome to Edinburgh.Murder capital of Europe.
  51. The worst dangers are the ones we can’t see …
  52. When silence falls, who will hear their cries?
  53. About the Author
  54. By the same author:
  55. About the Publisher

Lance almost hoped Ava wouldn’t phone him back. The more minutes that went by, the less certain he was of what he’d seen, or at least of what he’d deduced from it.

The outer door to the flats opened as he stood, poised and ready to return to his car, and to go home to a warm flat and a numbing hour of TV. The exiting teenagers didn’t even look at him. He didn’t exist to them. Not a threat, not a friend, not a girl. They left the door open, with Lance standing in range of it. His hands hung at his sides, but his foot was quicker, pushing out a toe to stop it from closing.

There was a stairway to the right, an elevator to the left and a passageway leading to ground-floor flats stretching ahead into the distance. Lance screwed up the nearly empty packet of crisps and shoved it deep in his pocket, putting his mobile away at the same time. He had nothing to lose except his evening and there were enough of those free in his diary not to be concerned about that. With one final look up the street, wondering where the sirens had been headed and if that was also where Ava Turner was right now, Lance Proudfoot stepped inside.

Chapter Thirty-Five

17 March

They raced through the city, using lights and sirens until they got near their destination. Other units joined them from all directions. Heading north-west, they took the Queensferry Road and made for Barnton Grove. Approaching RJ’s flat on foot was a silent operation. Armed units were in place. They already had a view of the flat windows, although there was no sign that anyone was home.

Rufus Jacob Bott was the sole tenant of a one-bedroomed flat, unless he had a girlfriend they didn’t know about. They’d accessed his Facebook account and there were no pictures of him looking coupled-up, so Ava was feeling confident about that. His Facebook page was all about him. Egotist central, Tripp had called it. Thousands of selfies. Rants. Links to videos, some of which were certainly illegal. Photos – many obviously real, some possibly Photoshopped – of dead bodies. RJ was a man obsessed, but the betting on suicides was clearly a new thing. An opportunistic element perhaps inspired by meeting Vicki. The problem was that it seemed to have inspired something much darker than a simple desire to see people die at their own hand.

Ava briefed the squad.