Dead Old by Maureen Carter Read Free Book Online

pardon?”
    “The loo.” Bev was alongside the woman now. She pointed the way and gave her a friendly smile before opening the conference room door. “This is a briefing, sweetheart. The
public’s not allowed in.”
    The room wasn’t big and the twenty-strong squad made it appear even smaller. There was tension in the air, along with the sort of frisson that only came with a murder inquiry. As every man
and woman in the room knew, a killer was out there. And if they didn’t catch him, they could be looking at another victim.
    Bev was about to perch on a desk at the back but the guv pointed out a seat next to him up front. She hadn’t seen Byford since Friday. By the look of him, he’d had a couple of late
nights. His complexion was sallow at the best of times but today the skin around his eyes looked bruised and the lines on his face appeared deeper than normal. What was he now? Fifty-two?
Fifty-three? Bev reckoned he was beginning to look it.
    She gave Bernie Flowers a quick nod as she sat down, which he returned with a “Wotcha, Bev.” Bernie was chief of the police news bureau. He looked like a junior cabinet minister with
his grey suits, grey ties and silver-rimmed specs, but in fact he was one of the sharpest operators around. Word had it he’d edited a national mass-circulation tabloid till a drink problem
forced him out. Not long after his arrival at Highgate, one of the station clowns had made some crack about the sun never setting over the yardarm. No one knew exactly what Bernie said in response
but the joke was never repeated.
    Bev was still smiling at the recollection as Byford rose and prepared to address the troops. Her smile was still there seconds later as the door at the back of the room swung open and almost
every head turned to catch the late arrival. The smile froze.
    The guv was welcoming the new DI – and Bev wanted to die.
    Davy Roberts reckoned it had to be a joke. Jake could not be serious. Davy glanced at the other members of the gang but either they weren’t listening or didn’t
care. Kev was shovelling a chocolate brownie down his neck and Robbie was checking cinema times in the Evening News. Starbucks would be closing any time soon and Davy was desperate to get it
sorted. He’d soon realised there was no way he could tell Jake he wanted out but they couldn’t just carry on as if nothing had happened.
    “Come on, man,” he asked Jake again. “What we gonna do?”
    Jake rested his hand on the younger boy’s arm, though there was nothing relaxed about the touch. “I’ve told you once: zilch.”
    Davy was beginning to wish he’d kept his big mouth shut. Jake was scarier like this than when he was on the rant.
    “But, Jake –” He hated pleading but he had to get through. “She’s dead.”
    “So?” Jake increased the pressure.
    “What if someone was watching?” Baiting an old biddy in the street and nicking a bar of chocolate was fair game but this morning’s show had been gross.
    “There was no one around.” Jake’s voice was soft and low, the Birmingham accent barely discernible. “And even if there was – so what?”
    Davy said nothing, too scared to voice his suspicion. Jake picked up on it anyway. “I get it.” He was still speaking softly. “You think we went back and finished the job after
you’d gone? Is that it, Davy?” He tightened his grip on the boy’s arm.
    Tears pricked Davy’s eyes. It wasn’t just the pain; he was desperate not to lose Jake’s friendship. But Jake’s face was creased with contempt.
    The other gang members were tuned in now. “You wanna watch what you say,” Kev sneered. “Little tosser.”
    Robbie never said much; he had a line in threatening looks.
    Davy thought his arm was about to snap.
    “We know where we were, don’t we, lads? ” Jake didn’t wait for a response. “You were the one buggered off on your own. How do we know where you went, what
you were up to? Sitting there like butter wouldn’t