Fragile Lives by Jane A. Adams Read Free Book Online

organized crime were well known but hard to pin down. He ran three nightclubs and was rumoured to be into drugs and women, both legal and illegal. Mac was amused and bemused to find that he also owned a perfectly legitimate corner chemist shop and that he had defended it from financial difficulties, developers and loss of local trade; a move which had led him to found an apparently equally legitimate property development company, which had quite literally bought up streets of local houses, had them renovated and then sold them on to a local housing association at a rate which could never have brought a profit. A new-build health centre followed; attempts to move a larger, franchised chain of pharmacies into the area emphatically quashed.
    â€˜Why?’ Mac asked.
    Andy, who had been sharing the task of collating, grinned at him. ‘It was his grandad’s shop, his great grandad’s too. Got a sentimental streak?’
    â€˜Wouldn’t be the first.’ Mac was puzzled though. ‘That would indicate that family is important. We know that Patrick Duggan still lived at home so why no missing person report? It doesn’t make any sense.’
    â€˜Unless the family had been told to keep quiet about it.’
    â€˜Kidnapping? Ransom? Sure you haven’t been watching too much TV?’
    â€˜I might well have been but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen.’
    Mac nodded. ‘We need to talk to the family,’ he said. ‘Or get our colleagues up north to do so.’
    â€˜Never fancied being a city copper then? You’ve always gone to the small towns?’
    â€˜Pinsent was big enough for me,’ Mac said. ‘And while Frantham might be small compared to Pinsent, you’ve got to admit it’s been interesting lately.’
    â€˜Very interesting since you got here. Reckon you thought we needed livening up.’
    Mac laughed but it was the second such comment he’d had in as many days and he was indeed beginning to feel oddly responsible. He glanced at his watch. ‘What time do the schools get out?’
    â€˜Half three-ish.’
    â€˜So George should be back at Hill House by now.’ He eased himself out of the uncomfortable office chair, promising himself that when he took over properly, he’d be replacing the furniture. He stretched, uncricking his back. ‘Collate everything and be ready to brief us in the morning,’ he said.
    â€˜Me? You want me to do it?’
    â€˜Why not? You’re more than capable and I’ve got a post-mortem to attend first thing and right now I’m off to see young George. I’ve got a little something for him.’
    Haines was curious. ‘So, Duggan went to see the body?’
    â€˜I suppose he wanted to be sure,’ Coran said with a shrug. ‘Maybe your word wasn’t enough.’
    â€˜Well, let’s hope it is now. He still has two other kids, doesn’t he? I’m sure he wouldn’t want anything to happen to them. You’d think one murdered kid would be enough for any family.’
    Coran didn’t reply.
    â€˜All set for the other business?’
    Coran nodded. ‘We’re just waiting for you to give the go-ahead.’
    â€˜Patience,’ Haines said. ‘Just be ready. I won’t want any last minute hanging around.’
    George was trying to do his homework but his mind really wasn’t on it. He and Ursula had taken up residence in the conservatory, now a rather ramshackle affair and badly in need of a coat of paint; George could see that it had once been nice. It ran the length of the back of the house and had steps that led down from the double doors and on to a wide lawn. A cast-iron radiator kept it warm, at least at the end with the table that Ursula had chosen for them to work at. There were also a couple of sofas and some battered easy chairs but, from the lack of clutter, magazines and general debris, George got the impression