Splinter the Silence

Splinter the Silence by Val McDermid Read Free Book Online Page B

Book: Splinter the Silence by Val McDermid Read Free Book Online
Authors: Val McDermid
Tags: Fiction, General, Psychological, Thrillers, Mystery & Detective
to remember much detail but she was convinced she’d read recently about a case where a woman had killed herself after being trolled for speaking out about something vaguely feminist. Carol couldn’t remember that either. ‘I’m getting old,’ she’d said with bleak humour. ‘Things don’t stick like they used to.’

That was quite an admission from a woman who was known for her eidetic memory for speech. Carol could repeat any conversation or interview verbatim, from memory. It was an occasionally inconvenient gift. Thoughtlessly, he’d said, ‘Old age and alcohol. They both kill off brain cells at an alarming rate.’ And that had been the end of any chance of Carol trying to be helpful. They’d eaten lunch in glum silence and she’d escaped back to work as soon as she could.

He tried various combinations of keywords in a series of fruitless searches. He wished he was still working with Carol’s old team. Stacey Chen would have tracked the answer down in a matter of minutes. His years of gaming had left him adept at hunting down zombies but they hadn’t trained him to scour the internet as successfully.

He was about to give up when he tried ‘suicide trolling rape’ and finally got what looked like the answer. Kate Rawlins had been a commercial radio presenter, responsible for an upbeat, anodyne drive-time show in London. She’d spoken up in support of the anonymity of rape victims after a controversial case involving a soap star who wanted his old job back after serving a sentence for rape. His fans had named his victim and persecuted her in spite of the guilty verdict and Kate had started a campaign to have the violators of the victim’s privacy prosecuted.

She’d been buried under an avalanche of abuse. Her social media accounts had been deluged with a disgusting torrent of insults, threats and rage. They’d even tracked down her teenage daughter, an art student, and demanded she disown her mother for her shameful hostility to men.

Kate, a woman who’d always relied on warmth and charm to woo her audience, had discovered depths of defiance and determination. She’d stood up to the bullies, using her access to the airwaves to call them out. All that did was to provoke more baying for her blood. On the face of it, she’d taken it all on the chin, winning a broad swathe of support from broadcasters, journalists and her followers on social media.

And then one morning, her PA had turned up at her North London house and found her in the garage with the engine running. In case of second thoughts, Kate had handcuffed herself to the passenger armrest so she couldn’t reach the ignition button.

There was a storm of shock and outrage. Fingers pointed at the soap star, who threw his hands up and denied that he’d ever encouraged the beasts who’d tormented her. The story commanded inside-page headlines for a few days and then it died.

Similar circumstances, very different deaths. It was interesting, but finding out about Kate Rawlins hadn’t stilled the niggle in his head. Something was bothering him about Jasmine Burton’s death.

But worrying at it was getting him nowhere. Experience had taught him that the best way to access what was swimming under the surface was to focus on something else. So he forced himself back to work.

When he emerged from the other end of the tunnel of concentration, it was late afternoon. He strained to listen but he couldn’t hear the distant muffled banging that had kept him company just below the level of consciousness earlier in the day. He wondered whether Carol had taken the dog out. He hoped not; he’d been planning to suggest accompanying them on their next walk. He needed the fresh air and walking was always where he got his best ideas, whether for his book or about Jasmine Burton.

He opened the door and Flash was at his side in an instant, weaving round his legs. Not dog-walking, then.

She wasn’t working either. At the far end of the barn, Carol was

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