Crossing the Line (Kerry Wilkinson) by Kerry Wilkinson Read Free Book Online

answer a phone unless it’s your own. If you can get away with it,
    don’t even answer your own, it’s only ever bad news.’
    ‘What’s lesson one?’
    ‘I’m always right.’
    ‘Even when you’re wrong?’
    ‘Especially when I’m wrong.’
    ‘And lesson two?’
    ‘Always get someone else to make the tea. If it’s your turn, make a shit one then nobody asks again.
    And don’t trust the tea machine – whatever they put in there isn’t tea, it’s more like dishwater.’
    Izzy ignored her. ‘If all the sergeants have been moved into their own office, what’s happening in
    here?’
    Jessica put her feet on the desk at the same time as the phone stopped ringing. ‘They’re apparently
    hiring. They need a sergeant to replace me, perhaps another one too, a DI and a constable or two. And
    if you believe that, you’ll believe anything – they’ll end up promoting someone, getting somebody in
    on work experience and that’ll be about it.’
    ‘What do you want first – Anarky, Debbie or a surprise?’
    ‘Always the surprise.’
    ‘Okay, it’s not much of a surprise though. There’s been a pile-up on the M60 out Audenshaw way,
    some lorry driver in the fog wiped out a Peugeot. The traffic is chaos already because everyone’s
    coming through the city. Half the people we had out doing stuff are stuck in traffic jams – well, either that or they’ve buggered off home, which I wouldn’t blame them for.’
    ‘I thought it was quiet around here. I turned the radio off in the car before they got to the traffic
    news – somehow they’ve got hold of Esther’s name, poor cow. It’s not even her job but the bastards
    will try to get her sacked. I left her a message but her phone’s off. Don’t blame her – if it was me, I’d be leaking email after email from the minister bloke saying he wanted to be accessible.’
    ‘Is she the kidnap woman?’
    ‘Used to be. We’ve stayed in contact on and off since that Lloyd Corless kid went missing. You’d
    like her.’ Jessica picked up a Post-it note and held it in the air. ‘Anyway, what about Debbie
    Callaghan’s dad?’
    Izzy shuffled through a stack of papers on her lap. ‘Ivor Callaghan died in Strangeways almost
    exactly twenty years ago. He got life after confessing to robbing a post office with a sawn-off shotgun.
    He got away with fifty grand – money never recovered. String of other minor offences; mainly drink-
    related. The usual.’
    ‘He confessed?’
    ‘That’s what it says.’
    ‘Funny, Debbie reckons he always protested his innocence. Perhaps that’s just what he told her?
    Anyway, what else?’
    ‘I’ve got you an address for Luke’s former business partner, Michael Cowell.’
    Jessica picked up the relevant note, relieved that Izzy had written it as it meant it was actually
    readable. ‘I’ll take him. I’m going to see the AA guy who’s giving Debbie an alibi too. I’m always
    nervous when someone gets hurt who has a long line of people gunning for them. Too many suspects.’
    ‘I got you some stuff on Debbie but not much. There’s nothing formal to say she and Luke have
    separated; no divorce application, no DV complaints – just that 999 call. Her parents are both dead,
    no children. They’ve got a joint bank account but she’s got one of her own too. Nothing suspicious has
    gone in or out – she’s got less in hers than I’ve got in mine.’
    ‘Next-door neighbour?’
    ‘Works as a nurse, nothing special there.’
    ‘Election rival?’
    Izzy half-laughed, half-sighed. ‘There’s a bunch about him on the Internet – he sodded off to the
    south of France after the election. It looks like the poor bastard got stitched right up. He’d been on the council for a couple of decades and then all these leaflets went around about him touching kiddies up
    because he used to work for the scouts. Callaghan was suspected but he denied it, turning things
    around to say that someone was trying to frame him. I’ve got