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Back The Family Next Door Save as PDF
Chapters (117)
  1. Also by
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. Epigraph
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  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
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  73. 68
  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. 71
  77. 72
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  97. 92
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  100. 95
  101. 96
  102. 97
  103. 98
  104. 99
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  106. 101
  107. 102
  108. 103
  109. 104
  110. 105
  111. 106
  112. 107
  113. 108
  114. 109
  115. 110
  116. Teaser chapter
  117. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

“He had been due to attend a church service with Elijah’s family yesterday morning, but he didn’t turn up. A resident of The Avenue has contacted the helpline and confirmed that she spoke to him at around nine a.m. We’re trying to establish his movements after that. Where was he? Who was he with? Did anyone see or speak to him? Did he let anything slip to any of you? You know the drill, folks. We all want to find this bastard. Let’s do it for Adam.”

His voice wavered on that final consonant. For a moment, the briefing room was silent except for a quiet sobbing from near the front. Due to the high level of media interest, an Essex Police press officer was taking notes. Mac cleared his throat of emotion. “Right, any questions?”

Clipped, no-nonsense, his tone did not invite questions at all. But Wildeve knew that Mac didn’t mean to sound so hard. Four years of working with him and she had learned to read his moods. This afternoon’s was textbook defensiveness.

An officer down on his watch. That would break him if this case didn’t. And she knew he was starting to panic. Because they had nothing of material use. Because the buck stopped with him. Because he wanted justice for the families and could have retired years ago if he weren’t so committed to the job. Because there were journalists camped out on his doorstep, questioning his abilities, demanding answers from the home secretary and those at the top of the government tree. Because members of the public were becoming too frightened to venture out of their homes at night. Because newspapers and television shows and radio hosts were baying for blood, calling for Mac’s resignation, and he had a wife and kids and bills to pay, just like the rest of them.

Except her.

She didn’t have a family anymore. No parents. No siblings. No husband.

“Right. Good. We’re still waiting for some results from forensics. We’re hopeful he’s slipped up this time and left a workable DNA trace. But again, as in the other cases, there are no signs of a struggle. We’re still working on the theory the victims were killed elsewhere and moved. But stay open-minded, folks. It’s only a theory.”

The heat in the room was saunalike. Wildeve’s head swam. Mac was speaking, but she was not listening. A couple of fans were running but it was not enough to stop the beads of sweat rolling down the sides of his face.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Mac dragged the back of his hand across his forehead and wiped away its clamminess on his trousers. She tuned back in.