Stark Contrasts (An Adam Stark novel Book 1) by Peter Carroll Read Free Book Online

crucial in finding whoever did this to your husband.”
    It was obvious that even stopping now would make little discernible difference to the quality or veracity of her evidence. They needed to leave her to sleep it off and get her into the station for a full, fully sober interview the next day.
     
    Back in the car, Katz was first to break the silence.
    “Do you believe her or do you think the old coot is getting muddled up with all that vodka sloshing around in her brain?”
    “She seems pretty convinced but I suppose it might be an alcohol-induced false memory.” He looked off into the distance, considering.
    “Nah, it's just not the kind of thing you would make up or blurt out to a cop unless it was true...surely?”
    Katz shrugged. “I guess.”
    “No, really, I think it's just a wee bit too off the wall to invent unprompted. Anyway, at least it gives us a start. It also means we've got two bad guys now and not one. It would explain the physical advantage over the victims but it also gives me some hope we'll catch them. Partnership is much harder to get right than being a lone wolf.”
    “Don't I know it, sir!” quipped Katz.
    They both laughed. The first glimmer of a thawing Stark had seen so far. His hopes upped a notch. Why, he had no idea. There was so little to be gained from turning your work partner into your bed partner. Katz was young, beautiful, cool as, and one of the most focused colleagues he'd ever encountered; of either gender. He was just horny. Simple biological urges, which required resistance.
    “By the way, did we get anywhere with looking for CCTV footage from the park where Dwayne was attacked?” Stark asked.
    “No, sir. The park itself isn't actually covered because it's too dark for any footage to be useful. The council's been saving money on lights apparently. They have dummy cameras and signs up as a deterrent but there's nothing for us to look at.”
    “Ah, well. Nobody had CCTV in the seventies and the cops still managed to solve crimes, so we'll just need to look for some other way to catch these guys.” Stark added wryly.
    “I suppose so, sir.”

11. Motion Sickness
     
    Every workplace has one. An annoying, officious dick that likes to do everything by the book. Obsessed with what people fail to do, seemingly incapable of ever recognising achievement. Mine had one too.
    Morris Hargreaves reached his late fifties still buttoned up about everything - from starched collar to attitudes about sex. Bitter and resentful about life, it was apparent he tried to make himself feel better by making others feel like shit. Incidents resulting in tearful and stressed-out colleagues making for exits and bathrooms abounded.
    He cultivated a hard on for me that would've made the 70's porn star John Holmes jealous.
    What pissed him off most was his inability to intimidate or stress me out. I found his frequent petulant outbursts pathetic for a man of his years and standing. In fact, on at least two occasions I laughed in his face. Give him his due - he was a persistent little fucker. I could expect at least one dressing down a day and, if I was really lucky, several. It was a battle of wills he would never win.
    By a strange quirk of fate, and much to my chagrin, I needed to deal with Morris Hargreaves in another aspect of my life. He was Chairman of the committee that ran my son's swimming team. His granddaughter was a junior champion, he was a prize prick.
    Whenever anyone made a suggestion as to how funds could be raised, communications might be improved, uniforms could be sourced more cheaply or anything else minor or major pertaining to club matters, they got the same answer.
    “You'll need to table a motion.”
    Nothing could ever be decided there and then. Nothing could be ad hoc. Everything needed to follow the due process set out in the club constitution. It added unnecessary delay but, crucially, as far as Hargreaves was concerned, everything went through him. This rendered him