Dying to Write by Judith Cutler Read Free Book Online Page A

help?’
    â€˜Sergeant Dale?’
    But it was not Ian who answered. A voice from the heart of the Black Country spoke: ‘DS Reed. Can I help you?’
    â€˜Tina! What’s all this about Sergeant Reed?’
    Tina and I had spent more time than either of us liked in each other’s company in the spring, when she had been my minder. But although we came close to killing each other, closeted in the confines of my semi, we also became quite fond of each other in a guarded sort of way.
    â€˜Ah,’ she began, ‘got me promotion through at last. Imagine me sewing on all them stripes.’
    â€˜I can: I can still see you sewing all those curtains up in my spare room!’
    â€˜How’s yourself, then, our Soph?’
    I brought her up to date with my limited news.
    â€˜And did you know as how Chris is back from India?’ she asked. I could hear the grin in her voice. ‘Came back Sunday, he did.’
    â€˜He wrote and asked me to meet him,’ I admitted. ‘But I told him I’d be on this writing course. Wouldn’t be able to get away.’
    â€˜Oh, ah,’ she said, the syllables signifying profound disbelief. ‘Any road, Ian Dale picked him up.’
    â€˜Does he get any leave so he can get over his jet lag?’
    â€˜Shouldn’t think so. He said as how he wanted to have a couple of weeks’ holiday there, when he’d finished with Delhi. Be a tourist, like.’
    â€˜Good for him.’ Better than a week at Eyre House failing to learn how to write. ‘So will he be taking on this case?’
    â€˜What case?’
    â€˜Sorry: I’ve got everything out of order. I’m on a residential writing course. Right? Out at Eyre Park.’
    â€˜Back of beyond, that.’
    â€˜Yes. Not very exciting. But one of my fellow students has just died, and the local police are very – relaxed about it.’
    â€˜Any reason for them not to be?’ Her voice was suddenly alert.
    â€˜She wasn’t old. She didn’t threaten suicide. A doctor here reckons it’s alcohol poisoning.’
    â€˜Well, then.’
    â€˜But so many people here hated her. I’ve just got a feeling.’
    â€˜Feeling, my aunt Fanny! Soph, haven’t you got nothing to go on?’
    â€˜Nothing at all. I’d love to be proved wrong.’
    â€˜OK. Tell me what our people have done so far.’
    â€˜Nothing. The ambulance people took the woman away and then a kid in a panda turned up and went away again. Leaving her room open to the four winds. I just stopped the administrator here from giving the room a thorough clean.’
    â€˜Jesus. OK. Seeing as how I know you, I’ll have a word with Chris, shall I?’
    She expected me to back down – she’d seen my efforts not to get emotionally involved with him.
    â€˜Great,’ I said brazenly. ‘Do that.’
    Shazia was in the kitchen, making coffee for everyone who was up. There was some sort of emergency get-together in the lounge, and I ought to have been there. But I couldn’t face the questions they’d want to ask, questions I’d want to ask in their situation, and I drifted out on the terrace. It had stopped raining, and I wanted some fresh air to clear my still foggy brain.
    If I sat down on an inviting bench I might even go to sleep. It had been a real effort to respond to Shazia’s frantic summons. Normally I’m up and working at raising my level in the Canadian Air Force Exercises by seven-thirty. How I should have slept through till nine, goodness knows. Every movement was still almost as much an effort as it was to think. And why had Shazia come to me? Ah, because she couldn’t wake Kate, and she wouldn’t want to alarm Agnes or her friends. Why me when Gimson was the logical choice? Perhaps Shazia wouldn’t be able to think of a rational answer either.
    Where should I meet Chris? How should I speak to him? I really do like