Nightshade: The Fourth Jack Nightingale Supernatural Thriller by Stephen Leather Read Free Book Online Page A

me or my family can stay in the area, not after this.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘It’s not as if I don’t understand,’ he said. ‘If it had been my kids who had been killed, I’d never forgive anyone connected to the killer. You just can’t, can you? Every time you saw them you’d remember what happened, it’d be like rubbing salt into the wound.’
    ‘It’s a nightmare, I know. In a way your brother has it easy. He’s dead, he’s out of it.’
    McBride nodded. ‘It’s my kids I feel sorry for. They’re going to carry it with them for the rest of their lives, that their uncle was a mass murderer.’ He sipped his coffee.
    ‘The policeman who took away your brother’s computer. Have you got a number for him?’
    ‘I’ve got his card, I think.’ He fished in his wallet and took out a Northumbria Police business card. He gave it to Nightingale. ‘What’s next?’
    ‘I’ll try to see this guy and see if I can get the computer back. I’m hoping to get a contact in the police who’ll give me some background info. And tomorrow I’ll see if I can get a look at the school. I’m heading back to London tomorrow and I’ll get a lab to check the blood on the crucible and knife.’
    ‘What do you think, Mr Nightingale? You’ve seen the house, you’ve seen what’s in the barn. What do you think drove my brother to kill those children?’
    ‘I don’t know, Mr McBride. I’ll have a better idea by tomorrow.’
    As it turned out, Inspector Colin Stevenson was considerably less forthcoming than Nightingale had hoped. He was a big man with a double chin and a gut that suggested a fondness for beer. He was clearly unhappy at having Nightingale in his office on a Friday afternoon. He sneered at Nightingale’s business card and then tossed it onto his desk. The detective’s office was a small cubby-hole with a window overlooking the police station’s car park. ‘So why does Mr McBride need a private detective?’ he asked.
    ‘There’s a few questions about the case that he would like answering,’ said Nightingale.
    ‘We’ve been more than happy to communicate with Mr McBride,’ said the detective. ‘But to be fair, I don’t see that there are any questions that need answering. His brother took his shotgun and killed a teacher and eight children in cold blood and then he turned his gun on himself.’ He shrugged. ‘Case closed.’
    ‘Mr McBride would like to have his brother’s computer returned.’
    ‘Why?’
    Nightingale frowned. ‘Why? If the case is closed then it’s no longer evidence.’
    ‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ said the inspector.
    ‘Well now, that’s not strictly true, is it?’ said Nightingale. ‘You’re not a judge. You’re an investigating officer.’
    ‘But I’ll be the one who decides when something is no longer evidence.’ He folded his arms defensively. ‘That computer is staying where it is.’
    ‘Like you said, the case is closed. Why do you need it?’
    ‘The inquest has yet to be heard,’ said the inspector. ‘What’s on the computer shows the state of his mind.’
    ‘Which is?’
    The detective smiled thinly. ‘I’m not a psychiatrist,’ he said.
    Nightingale smiled amiably. ‘Okay, how about this? It says in the papers that you found evidence of Mr McBride visiting various Satanic websites.’
    ‘I can’t comment on that.’
    ‘You already have. Or someone from your office has. It was all over the papers.’ Nightingale was finding it hard to keep smiling.
    ‘That may be so, but under the Data Protection Act I can’t reveal any details of what might or might not be on his computer.’
    ‘But you found Satanic stuff on the computer?’
    ‘I can’t comment on that.’
    ‘The papers said that McBride had visited various Satanic websites and was researching devil-worship.’
    The detective shrugged carelessly. ‘Again, I can’t comment on that.’
    ‘Someone doesn’t appear to have had any problems talking to the press.’
    ‘What the