The Risk of Darkness by Susan Hill Read Free Book Online

mind, but they had been controlled by comparison with the Suddens. He had never witnessed such raw, open grief, such anger and anguish and storms of tears. The mother had torn at her own face and pulled strands of her hair until they came out, screaming at the police liaison officer with her. People had stood staring, wild-eyed andhostile, at the police, at the same time as they showed their furious need of them.
    Both men had come away shaken.
    Now, Jim Chapman reached for the phone. His every movement seemed planned, every word measured. Simon watched him.
    “I want,” he said, “every silver-coloured Mondeo sighted anywhere on the roads in our area followed and the registration checked. Any details tallying with the first three, repeat, three letters, that car is to be stopped, the driver questioned and the car searched. And I want every silver Mondeo registered in our area and having those initial letters traced and the owner visited. Repeat, every silver Mondeo.”
    He put the receiver down and looked at Serrailler. “What?”
    Simon shook his head. “Your call.”
    “It takes what it takes. Men. Overtime. Whatever.” He got up. “I’d like to nip up to the hospital again, see my daughter. Are you still with us, Simon?”
    “Am I still welcome?”
    Jim Chapman raised his eyebrows at him as he left the room.
    “He’ll go to Real Madrid.”
    “Real wouldn’t want him.”
    “Crap, of course they’d want him. He’s genius.”
    “Well, they can’t all go to Real. I reckon it’ll be AC Milan.”
    PC Dave Hennessy drained the can of Coke and scrunched it up to the size of a chicken nugget. It wasone of the things he did.
    “Here, Karl reckons he’s gonna pop the question come Friday.”
    “Wondered what the fat grin was for. That’ll sort him. No more evenings pumping iron.”
    “Naw, he’s going for the nationals, he’s gotta keep that up. You can’t afford to miss a day, that level of weightlifting.”
    “Read my lips: ‘That’ll sort him.’ You met Linda?”
    “Seen her.”
    “Yeah, well, I went to school with her. She’s bloody terrifying. It’ll be under the thumb.”
    Nick Paterson laughed, thinking about it. They were sitting up on the lay-by in the shade. He shifted his legs and slipped down a bit in the seat. Might be time for ten minutes.
    “You see that notice this morning? CID woman pinned it up apparently.”
    “Nope.”
    “Gay march through York. Wear your uniform with pride.”
    Nick snorted in derision. “That’s wrong. It’s in the police rules. You don’t join political marches, you don’t become an activist … They want to go on perv marches they should get a different job.”
    “You can’t say that.”
    “Pervs is what I said and pervs is what I meant.”
    “Here!” Nick sat up. “You see that?”
    “I got my eyes shut.”
    “Silver Mondeo.”
    “Hundreds of them.”
    “See the driver? Man, dark jacket, dark hair.” Nick let the clutch in and roared down the slip road on to the dual carriageway. “Find out that number again.”
    But Dave was already on to it.
    Two miles on and doing eighty, they shot by the service station.
    “Fuck it. He’s in there,” Dave shouted.
    “Stop at the Conway roundabout, wait for him.”
    “There’s four routes he could take. We can’t cover them all.”
    “Call for back-up.”
    “Be halfway to Scotland by then.”
    “Might not have been him anyway.”
    They slowed to fifty. Ahead, in the east, the clouds were banking up, storm grey and darkening.
    “I don’t know though,” Nick said after a moment. “I had a feeling about that one.”
    It was difficult, not having any official role here. Simon couldn’t stay for ever. If today ended in a blank, he would have to return to Lafferton tomorrow morning.
    He wandered down the corridor towards the CID room. What did they think of him here? Were they all watching him, speculating? Stations were gossip shops, but it was unusual for the gossip to spread about an