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

was that it was mutual.
    There was a little of Jessica’s father in Niall – the quick, wicked humour, the fact he didn’t seem to
    miss anything. Jessica knew it was probably the type of thing psychologists had wet dreams about –
    that her father had died less than a year ago and now an older man wanted to take her under his wing
    – but she didn’t care.
    As she was heading out of the front door into the car park, she heard Niall calling her name as he
    came down the stairs. When she turned, he hugged her, much to the amusement of desk sergeant Fat
    Pat, who got a middle finger behind Niall’s back and a mouthed obscenity. Not that it bothered him as
    he carried on tucking into the remains of the steak and kidney pie he was hiding under the counter.
    What a fine example they set to the unsuspecting public. ‘Your son’s gone missing? Give us a minute
    because Fat Pat’s still chomping on a pie.’ Still, he was pretty much the only person in the station who actually knew what everyone else was up to, so staying on his good side was essential. Even if he did
    eat everything put in front of him.
    Niall eventually released Jessica, grinning down at her. Although he was in his late sixties, he had
    aged well and, if anything, looked younger than DCI Cole. He still had a full head of white hair, with
    sharp eyes and a trim physique. Aside from the traditional red-and-white striped grandpa jumper,
    which Jessica assumed was compulsory once you hit a certain age, he could have been twenty years
    younger and still working. He probably weighed ten stone less than Fat Pat, too.
    The older man was beaming, using both his hands to get the words out as if he couldn’t contain
    himself: ‘Been quite the day, hasn’t it? The attack and everything. These are the days I miss the most,
    where everyone’s running around and the media are going crazy.’
    Before Jessica could reply, her phone started to ring. She checked the caller and refused it. ‘Sorry,
    it was my mum. She knows I work . . .’
    Niall nodded: ‘Aah, but when you get to an age like mine, you can’t do much else but wonder what
    your pride and joys are up to.’
    ‘Yeah, I’m sure it’s that. Anyway, I’m on my way out . . .’
    ‘Oh, right, of course. Busy day and all that. I’m working upstairs – just came down to get a tea from
    the machine.’
    That couldn’t be a good thing at his age.
    ‘The constables have a kettle squirrelled away – I’m sure someone will make you one.’
    ‘I can’t find a pen either. Is there some sort of stationery cupboard?’
    Yeah, he’s called PC Pen-Thief.
    ‘Check with Fa— Patrick on the desk. He’ll sort you out.’
    Niall moved his weight from one foot to the other, clearly wanting to ask something. Eventually, as
    Jessica motioned towards the door, he got to the point. ‘I was wondering if you fancied going to the
    pub at the bottom of the road later? I’m here until six and the roads are blocked. It would be nice to
    pick your brain.’
    Fat Pat coughed but it might have been to disguise a snigger. Either way, this was going to be all
    around the station within half an hour. Thinking she could probably do with a drink after the afternoon
    she had planned, Jessica surprised herself: ‘All right, I’ve got a couple of people to visit but then I’m coming back anyway. See you at six.’
    6
    Jessica signed out a pool car and used the sirens to skim through the gridlocked streets towards
    Ancoats. If anyone asked, someone had tried to attack the Home Secretary and she had witnesses to
    talk to.
    As she walked through the back door of the church hall, Jessica couldn’t help remembering the gym
    from her primary school: a stage at one end, varnished strips of wood running diagonally across the
    floor, a climbing frame folded onto the wall and a general sense that no one had done the place up in
    twenty years. The high windows were misted with condensation and it was bloody cold too, even