From the Dead by Mark Billingham Read Free Book Online

everything else.’
    â€˜Right, yeah.’ Thorne sat down on the sofa. He remembered that Donna had been the main beneficiary of her husband’s will, that for a while this had been considered her motive for wanting him killed. As it had transpired, there was far less to inherit than anyone had thought – the majority of Alan Langford’s assets turning out to have been paper – with the little that was tangible seized by the Serious Organised Crime Agency before Donna had even been sentenced. ‘So, not a lot to come out to?’
    â€˜I had plenty,’ Donna said. She shrugged, reached for a large glass ashtray and pulled it towards her. ‘My priorities had changed.’
    Kate shouted from the kitchen, asking if Thorne wanted sugar. He shouted back, letting her know that he did not.
    â€˜Actually,’ Donna said, ‘you’ve put on a bit of weight.’
    â€˜Yeah, well.’ Thorne smiled, unamused. ‘We’ve all changed.’
    She too was heavier than she had been ten years before, puffy-faced and jowly, while her hair, which Thorne also recalled that she had been inordinately proud of, was grey and far from perfectly coiffured. She was still prison-pale and, on top of the smoking habit, she had acquired a wariness that Thorne had seen in many with a few years inside under their belt. She shifted focus every few seconds, the circles beneath her eyes as blue-black as bruises.
    She might have been the mother of the woman Thorne had last seen a decade earlier.
    â€˜Her Majesty does pretty good makeovers,’ Donna said, seeing what Thorne was thinking. She nodded towards Kate, who was coming through the door with three mugs and a packet of biscuits. ‘Not that bloody drastic, though.’
    Thorne looked from Donna to Kate. ‘Sorry.’
    Donna leaned over, smirking, to stub out her cigarette. ‘You thought she was me, didn’t you?’
    Thorne looked again and saw that Donna’s companion was at least ten years younger than he had originally taken her for, ten years younger than Donna herself. He also noticed the delicate swirls of blue that snaked up from below the neck of her T-shirt. He could just make out a ‘D’ and an ‘O’ and guessed what the rest of the tattoo spelled out. Now he could see that there was no physical similarity whatsoever between the two women. What had seemed familiar to him was merely something they shared in their expressions: a suspicion, a challenge, an invitation to judge.
    He had simply recognised an ex-con.
    Kate smiled as she handed Thorne his tea, that invitation even clearer this time. ‘Me and Donna met in Holloway, a couple of years back.’
    â€˜I’m thrilled for you,’ Thorne said.
    â€˜I was released nine months ago. Got all this set up for us.’
    â€˜It’s quite lovely.’
    Kate bent down and took a cigarette from the packet on the table. ‘Donna said you were a wanker.’
    â€˜Sorry, I just don’t give a toss,’ Thorne said.
    Kate shrugged, like that made sense, and lit the cigarette. She took two good, deep drags. ‘So, you going to find her ex, then?’
    Thorne held up his free hand. ‘Look, I’m just here because someone asked me, OK? And because I’m an idiot.’
    Kate took two more cigarettes from the pack and slipped them into her shirt pocket. ‘I’ll leave you to get on with it.’
    â€˜You don’t need to go,’ Donna said.
    But Kate was already at the door, her back to them, waggling her fingers in a goodbye.
    When the door closed, Donna said, ‘I couldn’t do this without her.’
    â€˜Do what?’
    â€˜You saw the photograph of Alan.’
    â€˜I saw a photograph,’ Thorne said.
    â€˜Come on, you know it’s him.’ She leaned forward in her chair. ‘You know Alan’s still alive.’
    Thorne took a slurp of tea. Deciding he might just as well stay