Chapters (134)
- Cover
- ALSO BY J.S. MONROE
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Contents
- One week earlier
- 1
- Friday
- 2
- Saturday
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- Sunday
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- Monday
- 50
- 51
- 52
- 53
- 54
- 55
- 56
- 57
- 58
- 59
- 60
- 61
- 62
- 63
- 64
- 65
- 66
- 67
- 68
- 69
- 70
- 71
- 72
- 73
- 74
- 75
- 76
- 77
- Tuesday
- 78
- 79
- 80
- 81
- 82
- 83
- 84
- 85
- 86
- 87
- 88
- 89
- 90
- 91
- 92
- 93
- 94
- 95
- 96
- 97
- 98
- 99
- 100
- 101
- 102
- 103
- 104
- 105
- 106
- 107
- 108
- 109
- 110
- 111
- One week later
- 112
- 113
- 114
- 115
- One month later
- 116
- Acknowledgements
- About the author
- An Invitation from the Publisher
He doesn’t answer. It must be someone else.
69
Silas
‘Boss, your phone.’
Silas turns from the window in the Parade Room and takes his mobile from Strover. She doesn’t say anything, but it’s clear from the display that it’s Conor.
‘You OK?’ Silas asks, walking over to a quiet corner.
‘I’ve just spoken to Mum,’ Conor says.
Silas glances around the room. No one is within earshot, but it’s still not the sort of conversation he’d like colleagues to overhear. Not even Strover.
‘And?’
‘Thanks – for calling her,’ Conor says. He sounds in a better place, more together. ‘She was chuffed about the counselling.’
She didn’t seem particularly chuffed when Silas spoke to her, but he’s glad if they’ve made progress, however slight.
‘I’ve also been up at the Bluebell, asking around,’ Conor continues. ‘I overheard a conversation in the back room – went the distance for you, Dad.’
‘You’re not to put yourself in danger,’ Silas says, checking again to make sure that no one can hear him. He’s being disingenuous. If Conor is to find out anything useful at the Bluebell, it’s going to be dangerous. And it sounds like Conor took a big risk. For him.
‘I was almost caught listening at the door, but I got away with it,’ Conor says. ‘Had to pay someone off to keep quiet.’
‘How much?’ Silas asks.
‘We can talk money later. The whole place was in turmoil anyway. You heard the ex-barman’s been killed? The one who used to work there a while back.’
‘In Cornwall,’ he says, sighing. ‘Yesterday. Anyone know who shot him?’
‘That’s what’s pranging everyone out.’
‘What are they saying?’
‘Turns out he had to do a runner six months ago. He’d been told to target that woman you mentioned, the one who was sick at recognising people. Apparently she was causing all kinds of carnage.’
Silas is hit by another pang of guilt about Kate. He’d been told to target that woman… He should have been more careful. The irony of what Conor’s saying is not lost on him either. He always hoped his son might show a bit more interest in his old man’s job and now he’s giving him a blow-by-blow account of his working life.