Chapters (68)
- Cover
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Acknowledgements
- Canelo Crime
- About the Author
- Also by Rachel Lynch
‘Can’t keep his hands to himself. His days are numbered.’
Kelly’s brain switched from disaster zone to her bread and butter: people breaking the law.
‘It took armed response to convince him to surrender,’ Kate added.
‘Jesus, what a piece of work. Armed response have got better things to do than arrest arseholes.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Thank God it’s been a quiet day. Everybody has been on the crash. Any preliminaries on what caused it yet?’ Kate asked.
Kelly shook her head. ‘They’re bloody death traps as it is. Apparently, Lord Reilly was attending the climate conference at the Glenridding hotel in Ullswater over the weekend, and some millionaire from London was hosting him. I get the impression that’s what’s bothering the authorities, because Bartholomew Kennedy-Craig is a shady character, and you don’t really want a cabinet minister hobnobbing with millionaires. And you can’t really preach holier than thou morals about global warming when you’re taken on a jolly sightseeing over Scafell Pike. The government is embarrassed. But, you know what? It’s not our problem.’
‘Yeah, I got that impression. The press office has been going mad. The Home Office has forbidden any statements on it, apart from sticking to the facts about the crash, and saying that the casualties are being attended to,’ Kate told her. ‘So, who’s Bartholomew Kennedy-Craig?’
‘A very dead Bartholomew Kennedy-Craig was founder and CEO of Tactika Enterprises. It’s a global company, into all sorts – and not all of them legal, according to the press. His next of kin have been informed. The two pilots were locals, ex-RAF, very experienced, apparently. I reckon there are two bodies under the wreckage, both runners. Glynn knows both of them.’
‘So, it’s Glynn, now?’ Kate teased her.
Kelly rolled her eyes. ‘It’s not my investigation. The AAIB people will be there in the morning. So, what have we got on nasty violent man? Has he been processed and interviewed?’
‘No, he’s hammered. Sleeping it off.’
‘Right, I’d better write my report to give to the chief constable tomorrow, the AAIB team will need it. I’ve got to say, I was proud of how the agencies all came together today. Fire, medical, police, and civilians, they all did a superb job. The death toll is horrendous. It was tough day.’
‘Coffee?’