Dead of Winter Tr by Lee Weeks Read Free Book Online Page B

talk to him, tell him just enough to see if he has
anything useful for us and ask him if he wants to add anything to his original statement; he must have thought things over in all these years. But the main thing is, Davidson wants him contained.
If he plays nice we’ll keep him informed; throw him the odd stick to retrieve and pat his head when he does. Go with Harding this morning to Rose Cottage where the Carmichael murders
happened. Ask her to fill you in on the background. She did the autopsies that day. According to Robbo she was over-friendly with Davidson at one time.’ Carter smiled. ‘It’s going
to kill Davidson if he has to reopen the case. Bet he never thought he’d see this resurface. But you know what they say, Ebb. Shit sticks and bodies float.’
    Davidson went to the bathroom next to his office and looked at his reflection in the mirror. Today he had on a deep blue shirt and a darker blue jacket. Grey trousers with a
permanent crease. His wife Barbara bought his clothes, but he never thanked her for doing it. Their marriage had lost any ember of excitement. He had long since stopped trying to make her feel
treasured or even wanted. Divorce was out of the question. He’d be damned if he’d hand over half of everything. Not at this stage in his life. Barbara could carry on enjoying her
benefits as she’d always done. She’d always been happy to take a back seat. He’d worked hard to court business acquaintances outside the Force. Davidson promised himself a life
again when he retired. He had a few interesting offers: big corporations that wanted him on their board. He would be travelling a lot, he would be flying first class, staying in top hotels, Barbara
wouldn’t want to come. If things had worked out well in the Carmichael case then Davidson wouldn’t have had to work at all after the Police Force. He’d be Commissioner by now and
retire on a massive pension. As it was, if things went badly again he would be lucky to get a job delivering groceries after he retired. The thought made him sweat. He splashed cold water onto his
face then stood looking at himself in the mirror. Small beads of water still dripped from his sallow skin. Okay . . . he’d made mistakes. Just six months until he could retire, for
Christ’s sake. But why now did he have to find himself back in the nightmare with Callum Carmichael?
    Harding came into the bathroom. She came to stand next to him. The fact they had once slept together gave them a familiarity with each other.
    ‘Barbara still buying your shirts?’
    He turned away, pulled down a paper towel and wiped his face, small precise dabs then went back into his office; she followed. He felt a flash of anger. Once more she had overstepped the mark.
Once more he felt the urge to see her naked.
    ‘Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to Rose Cottage this morning?’ He sat down behind his desk.
    ‘Yes. The owners are sending over a key. Apparently the place has hardly been touched in all these years.’
    He stared at her. She knew he wasn’t really listening to her. He was white with rage. She didn’t flinch.
    ‘You can’t ignore it, John. You can’t stick your head in the sand . . .’
    ‘Thank you for your support in the meeting this morning.’ He was petulant.
    They listened to the sound of doors banging: people in the corridor outside his office. The Murder Squad in full work frenzy. It was what they lived for. It was what they did. But Davidson had
had enough. He was six months from retiring and every part of his body and soul wanted out now, wanted a new life; he deserved it.
    ‘It’s no shame to admit the procedures let us down at the time. Everything’s in the open these days,’ Harding said as she sat down across from him. Davidson pursed his
lips, leant forward, elbows, forearms on the desk, and pressed his fingertips together. He didn’t answer. He looked at her coldly. She glared back. ‘We did our best with what we had at