A Walk With the Dead by Sally Spencer Read Free Book Online Page A

happen to be passing, Chief Officer Jeffries, or have you been standing out here waiting for me?’
    â€˜I’ve been waiting for you,’ Jeffries said. ‘I’m here to escort you down to breakfast.’
    â€˜An important man like you shouldn’t have to hang around in corridors as if he was a mere errand boy,’ Baxter prodded, to see what reaction he’d get.
    â€˜I haven’t been here long,’ Jeffries replied, stony faced. ‘Shall we go down to breakfast now?’
    â€˜Is it a good breakfast?’ Baxter asked.
    â€˜It’s an excellent breakfast.’
    â€˜Sausages, bacon, fried eggs, fried bread – the works?’
    â€˜The works.’
    Baxter pretended to consider it.
    â€˜It’s certainly a tempting offer,’ he said finally, ‘but my doctor’s told me that if I don’t stay off the fried food, I’m heading for an early grave. So, on balance, I think I’ll skip breakfast and take a look around the prison.’
    â€˜You don’t
have
to have the full works, if you don’t want to,’ Jeffries pointed out. ‘You could just settle for cornflakes.’
    â€˜To tell you the truth, I’m not at all hungry.’
    Jeffries frowned. ‘You are
expected
in the canteen.’
    â€˜I dare say I am,’ Baxter agreed, ‘but I’ve always found that you learn more by going to the places where you’re
not
expected. Let’s go and take a look at the main wing, shall we?’
    â€˜If you insist, Mr Baxter,’ Jeffries said, in a tight voice.
    â€˜I do insist, my old son,’ Baxter said. He patted the other man on the shoulder. ‘And by the way, since I’m here in an official capacity, I’d prefer it if you addressed me as Chief Constable.’
    â€˜I’ll try to remember that,’ Jeffries replied, not even attempting to sound convincing.
    A heavy grey sky hung depressingly over the Whitebridge police headquarters car park, and in the car park itself stood two dozen police officers who had had other plans for that Sunday morning.
    The plans had been as varied as the officers were themselves. Some had been expecting to take the field in the fiercely contested Sunday football league. Others had made promises to their kids that they’d take them out for the day – or sworn to their wives that they’d finally get around to repapering the back bedroom. A few of the single men had been anticipating a fairly heavy lunchtime drinking session, and a handful of the more devout had even intended to put on their best suits and go to church. Now – as a result of early morning phone calls – all those plans had turned to ashes, and the men stood around stamping their feet to ward off the cold, and waiting to be told what to do next.
    DCI Paniatowski and Chief Superintendent Tom Potter stood side by side at the far end of the car park, waiting for the police transit vans to emerge from the garage.
    â€˜Assuming that the little lass decided to sleep rough last night, she’ll have woken a bit stiff this morning, but she’s young, and it shouldn’t have done her any permanent harm,’ Potter said.
    Yes, assuming Jill
had
slept rough the previous night, that was probably the case, Paniatowski thought.
    But there was another possibility – one never spoken of at the start of this kind of search, but hanging over the whole operation like a thick choking black cloud – that she hadn’t noticed the cold (or anything else for that matter) because she was already dead.
    â€˜The men I’ve called in will be reinforced by firemen, relatives and neighbours, so we should have a search party of close to a hundred,’ the superintendent continued. ‘Now, the only question is what the search’s focus should be. Where do you think we should be looking, Chief Inspector?’
    He didn’t really need an answer, Paniatowski thought – he