The Headhunters by Peter Lovesey Read Free Book Online Page B

thoughts, hoping against the odds to meet Jake. She’d been on the lookout for tall men, that was one sure thing.
    ‘There was a young guy who passed me early on. He was tall, over six feet, and wearing a fleece and tracksuit trousers. Grey, I think. And he had an iPod. Well, I saw the earphones.’
    ‘You say he passed you. Do you mean overtook you?’
    ‘No, he was coming towards me.’
    ‘From the direction of the body?’
    ‘Yes, but I don’t think—’
    ‘Hair colour?’
    ‘God, this is difficult. Darkish brown and short.’
    ‘Age?’
    ‘Younger than me. Mid-twenties probably.’
    ‘Was he in a hurry?’
    ‘He was walking quite fast when I saw him. He could have been a jogger.’
    ‘Did you speak?’
    She shook her head. ‘There wasn’t even eye contact.’
    ‘But you’d remember him if you saw him again?’
    ‘I might. I can’t say for sure.’ She felt responsible, drawing attention to this guy who probably had nothing to do with the body. ‘He wasn’t the only man I saw along the beach. There was another, in combat clothes, down at the water’s edge throwing a ball for his dog.’
    ‘What—near the body?’
    ‘No. I told you nobody was there. This was further back, closer to those wooden buildings where the fish are sold.’
    ‘Go on,’ DC Pearce said. ‘We’re with you.’
    ‘I watched the dog running into the waves to collect the ball. It was a large black poodle.’
    Maybe a pit bull would have impressed them more. The two detectives lost all interest in the dog owner. They didn’t even ask the colour of his hair. ‘When you saw the first man, the guy in the tracksuit,’ Hen Mallin said, ‘it was early on in the walk, you said?’
    ‘I think so.’
    ‘Not far from where you left the car?’
    ‘Probably.’
    ‘You wouldn’t have noticed if he got into a car himself?’
    ‘I told you. He passed me. I didn’t look back.’
    ‘Fair enough.’ Hen looked at her colleague. They’d run through their repertoire. ‘There’s nothing else you remember from that afternoon?’
    ‘I’ve told you all I know.’
    They left soon after. Although something was said about thanks and cooperation, Jo felt it was only lip service. She’d had a mauling. She needed another coffee before she could face work again.
    THAT EVENING one of those small cars that look as if it they’ve been sawn off at the back was parked in the spot she always used outside her flat, so she had to go looking for another place. Typical. The only space she could find was way up the next street. Serious damage to property (namely, one yellow Smartcar) was on her mind as she finished humping two bags of shopping the two hundred yards to her door.
    Before she got there someone stepped out of the offending car and stood waiting for her.
    Gemma.
    ‘Can I help with those?’
    ‘You’d better, seeing that you nicked my parking place.’
    ‘Sorry.’ Gem sounded worried, more worried than ill-judged parking warranted.
    ‘Problems?’
    ‘Mind if I come in? I’ve had a godawful week and it’s still only Monday.’
    Supper would have to wait. Inside, Jo opened the bottle of merlot she’d bought for herself and carried two drinks to the sofa. The two friends sat facing the switched-off television.
    ‘It’s my butthead boss again,’ Gemma said. ‘You remember I was telling you about Fiona from accounts? Well, it seems I read the signs all wrong. She’s giving him the come-on now. In the last couple of days she’s appeared at work all done up like the next Big Brother contestant in really unsuitable clothes, low-cut tops and skirts a teenager would think twice about wearing.’
    Jo was still feeling frayed from her session with the police and it wasn’t easy to take Gemma’s problems seriously, but she made the effort. ‘I thought she was the homespun type. That’s what you told me.’
    ‘And how wrong I was. That line she gave me about being embarrassed by all his interest was a load of horse hooey. She was