BooksBarbecue
Back The Midnight Man Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. Title Page
  2. Contents
  3. Copyright
  4. Praise for Caroline Mitchell
  5. Also by Caroline Mitchell
  6. Dedication
  7. Epigraph
  8. Prologue
  9. 1
  10. 2
  11. 3
  12. 4
  13. 5
  14. 6
  15. 7
  16. 8
  17. 9
  18. 10
  19. 11
  20. 12
  21. 13
  22. 14
  23. 15
  24. 16
  25. 17
  26. 18
  27. 19
  28. 20
  29. 21
  30. 22
  31. 23
  32. 24
  33. 25
  34. 26
  35. 27
  36. 28
  37. 29
  38. 30
  39. 31
  40. 32
  41. 33
  42. 34
  43. 35
  44. 36
  45. 37
  46. 38
  47. 39
  48. 40
  49. 41
  50. 42
  51. 43
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. 49
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. 56
  65. 57
  66. 58
  67. Epilogue
  68. Acknowledgements
  69. About Caroline Mitchell
  70. About Embla Books

I gripped the door-knob and was met with resistance. Grunting, I forced it to turn. There was a sense of surrender as the rusted mechanism came free. Had Middleton gone straight to the wardrobe, or searched the room for his daughter? Had he looked behind the door? Pushed aside the long limp velvet drapes that touched the floor? The wardrobe did not survive the shot. The room was deathly quiet, an echo chamber for my pulsing heart. Dropping to my knees, I traced the stain of blood ingrained on the wooden floor. It had to be hers. The key to the wardrobe door was found by police in Middleton’s wife’s pocket. A last, desperate act to save her child. Then the last shot of gunfire, ripping through the silence as Middleton turned the gun on himself. I lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, in the same position he had been found. It was a pleasure to resurrect the Midnight Man.

5

‘It’ll be OK. Relax. You’ll get through this.’ The voice was that of Sarah’s husband. She didn’t want to hear it. Not today. ‘Did you hear me? I said you’ll get through …’

‘Leave me alone!’ She raised her hands to her head, as if swatting away an errant fly. She would be fine. She had to be. Besides, it was just one day. One day to get her bearings, then the weekend off and she’d begin properly on Monday. She had her DI to thank for that. A bloom of guilt rose. She shouldn’t have allowed him to mollycoddle her but today, she was grateful for it. ‘Sherlock. Here, puss, where are you? Mummy’s off now.’ Her marmalade moggy was stretched out on the sofa, regarding her with disdain. ‘Be a good boy, I’ll be back before you know it.’ She reached out to pet him, withdrawing her hand sharply as he hissed. He had always been David’s cat. But apart from her DI, he was the only friend she had. ‘Right,’ she said, checking the mirror in the hall. She tugged at the waistband of her trousers before smoothing back her hair. Was that a pimple breaking out on her chin? ‘Oh, God,’ she groaned. ‘I’m a mess.’

‘You look fine.’

Sarah rolled her eyes. ‘Not one bloody word from you, you hear me? Not one fucking word!’ Grabbing her keys from the hall table, she traipsed out the front door. She had so many things to remember. Rule one: Don’t talk to yourself. Rule two: Don’t talk to him. Rule three: Don’t take any crap. Rule four: Don’t talk about what happened. Rule five: Act normal. Rule six … She sighed. She couldn’t remember rule six.

Sarah inhaled. After gearing up to this day for months, she was already falling apart at the seams.