The Cutting Crew by Steve Mosby Read Free Book Online Page B

Someone else in the department.
    I rubbed my face a little and started to feel bad.
    It occurred to me that Sean had sent a very small amount of information about Alison, which meant that he must have had a reason not to tell me a lot more. Maybe he didn't want to get me properly involved unless it was necessary. Which would mean that he'd sent me what he had as some kind of insurance.
    I put it together in my head.
    Sean investigates. Sean finds out something bad and realises that his life might be in danger. Sean sends me enough to get going so that if something bad does happen to him I can follow it up. Then I can get killed too. Thanks a fucking bunch, Sean, I would say to him, in whatever twisted version of heaven we ended up in.
    It made a certain amount of sense.
    He'd delivered it last night, so he'd been alive and fine yesterday.
    Perhaps something had been about to change. A deal or a meeting.
    Some kind of showdown.
    I finished off my coffee and wondered where I was going next.
    There was no question of putting this to one side. Sean was my friend and I needed to know that he was okay. That was the deal; since he'd always looked out for me, it was time to repay the favour. But even without that there was no question. I turned to the front of the file and looked again at the picture of Alison. It was strange, but I still dreamed about her sometimes; and when that happened, I always woke up feeling that her murder had injected poison into my life. Everything after finding her had gone rotten.
    Discovering her killer wouldn't fix any of that, of course, but I felt compelled to try anyway, regardless of any danger that Sean might be in.
    So: the first priority was probably a visit to the university. I'd see what her department could tell me. Maybe have a look at her emails too. Then, there was the boyfriend to check out - whether he had been a student, a lecturer or someone else altogether. I could look up a few of her friends; there were contact details for most of the ones who had given statements. And at some point I'd have to speak to Rosh or Lucy about who in the department might have hidden the report and why. But that was uncomfortable and it could wait.
    Okay then, I thought, gathering up my papers.
    As I paid up, I realised I was experiencing something I hadn't felt since I'd left the police: a kind of vague thrill. It was a buzzing feeling that wasn't quite excitement. You never enjoy the job, but sometimes you get the sensation of rightness - of things falling naturally into place. You shake the facts and drop them, and they begin to form a line that leads to the truth; and when that happens it can feel like you're coming into alignment with the world and doing exactly what you should.
    I went outside, and was heading towards the university campus which was a long walk away - when my mobile rang. The investigation vanished from my mind, and I thought Lucy as I took the phone out of my pocket. But then the display said rachel home calling and I looked at it for a good five seconds, debating whether to answer it or not, before finally pressing green.
    'Hi,' I said.
    'Didn't you get my text?'
    'No.' But that was too much of a lie for it to live. 'Well, yes. But not until a few minutes ago. I've been busy.'
    'Well, it's nice to know you're keeping yourself busy.'
    'Right.'
    Since I'd moved out, Rachel had two ways of dealing with me.
    The first was the tone of the text message last night: vulnerable and hurt, and not afraid to show it. The other way was the flipside of that: cold, detached, professionally annoyed - mainly at me, but also at herself for the times when she was more open. I wasn't sure which was the hardest to deal with, but it was clear I had the pared-down half-hatred to deal with today.
    She said, 'I need to see you.'
    'What do you need to see me about?'
    'I need to talk. I know you're busy - apparently - but I need to.'
    'Yeah,' I said. 'I am busy.'
    'Well, I need to. I think you owe me that