Текст книги "The Blood Whisperer"

Автор книги: Zoë Sharp

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Текущая страница: 32 (всего у книги 34 страниц)

161

Thank God it’s nearly over.

Sitting in the front pew of the ancient church, the words ran through Matthew Lytton’s head.

The vicar was into his Benediction. Vee had been an occasional churchgoer—more for its social implications than out of any true belief—so at least the man was able to speak from slight personal acquaintance.

Then there was only one more hymn to go before Lytton could get out of this suffocating place and this suffocating suit. And, above all, away from these utterly suffocating people.

The vicar was meandering his way towards a solemn close. Lytton shifted on the old wooden pew and was suddenly aware of the feeling he was being watched.

As casually as he could he glanced back over his shoulder—straight into the eyes of Kelly Jacks.

He felt the jolt of her unexpected presence like a physical blow to his gut. He tensed in visceral response and forced himself not to turn and stare.

Even so, there was no mistake.

In that brief glimpse he registered her bare head among the sober hats, her shoulders draped with an overlarge black topcoat that drowned her small frame.

His mind began to race. What the hell was she doing here? There had been no official announcements and he’d been following the whole travesty with a close eye. Christ . . . had she escaped?

He realised the vicar had stopped speaking, the organist was flexing his fingers and the rest of the congregation was rising around him with a chorus of coughs and shuffles. His mother-in-law glared at him from across the aisle, as if not being first up was a sign of disrespect.

He had put his foot down about the final piece of music. Vee had always loved the intricacies of Bach, and in particular the chorale movement Jesu Joy of Man’s Desiring.

His mother-in-law had been vaguely horrified at the suggestion. “But, it’s so . . . unsuitable, Matthew. You had that played at your wedding.”

“All the more reason to play it again at her memorial service then, don’t you think?”

In the end the woman had given in with some attempt at grace, although he noted from the Order of Service that she had disguised his choice by using its lesser-known German title—Herz und Mund und Tat und Leben, Bach-Werke-Verzeichnis 147.

He stood silent while the vastness of the Bach cantata washed over him, but felt only impatience for it all to be over.

Kelly . . . here . . .

Even then he couldn’t make an immediate escape. He was expected to stand in a receiving line with Vee’s parents, accepting clammy handshakes and the awkwardly mumbled conventional expressions of regret.

And all the time he was searching for another sign of Kelly. But she didn’t present herself to him or his in-laws and when the church had emptied out he could not see her hiding in the shadows.

He thanked the vicar and handed over the promised donation cheque for a job well done. Outside on the bowed stone steps he shook his father-in-law’s reluctantly offered hand and air-kissed his mother-in-law’s powdered cheek. He was amazed the caked layer of makeup hadn’t cracked from the sheer effort of holding her disdain in check.

“You’ll ride with us back to the house?” his father-in-law suggested stiffly when they reached the lane where people were climbing into their cars. Lytton had approved the hire of the Bentley they’d wanted, even though the distance from house to church barely allowed it to warm up.

“I have my car here,” Lytton said, gesturing to the Aston Martin.

They sniffed at that, said they’d see him at the catered lunch in half an hour, and left.

Lytton headed off into the surrounding graveyard, pulling his wool overcoat a little tighter around him to ward off the sharp and sneaky wind. He found her by the wall right in the far corner, still with the ridiculous topcoat wrapped around her and a small rucksack tucked at her feet.

“Kelly!” He hurried the last few strides finding he was suddenly breathless. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you,” she said. “I asked at the house and the caterers assumed I was a late guest of some sort. They gave me directions.” She fingered the lapel of the coat. Beneath it he could see a bright shirt and khaki cargo pants. “I didn’t know, until I got here . . . I borrowed this from one of the chauffeurs so I wouldn’t look so obviously out of place inside. I didn’t realise . . . I’m sorry.”

“I’m not—sorry you’re here, that is,” he said, feeling a genuine smile start to form. “But what I actually meant was . . . The last I heard you were in Holloway. How did you . . .?” He groaned. “Oh please, tell me you didn’t scale the bloody walls?”

She laughed and he realised he’d never heard her laugh and he liked the sound of it, husky with just an edge of badness to it.

“What, you think at this very moment some deputy US Marshal is organising a hard-target search of every henhouse, outhouse and doghouse between here and Islington?”

He knew she was trying to make light of it by paraphrasing The Fugitive but somehow that only made the situation seem more desperate.

Heedless of what happened the last time he grabbed her, Lytton closed in and gripped her upper arms, forced her to focus on his face.

“Kelly, please, this is serious. If you’re on the run I can help. I know a guy with a fast cruiser moored at Lymington. We can have you out of the country by tonight.”

She went very still. “You’d do that?” she said. “For me?”

“I won’t see you go back to prison for something you didn’t damn well do.”

She stepped in, looked up into his eyes. “They didn’t let me go, Matthew,” she said with gentle deliberation, “because they didn’t need to. I was never really on remand. Not this time.”

He tried for incisive. Instead all he managed was a stuttered, “W–what?”

“O’Neill asked for my help to catch the guys who set me up—just sit tight in solitary for a few weeks and let him get on with it,” she said. “Allardice did the dirty work, but it was Chief Superintendent Quinlan who Callum Perry was trying to blackmail. He was the one who decided to get rid of Perry and use me to take the blame.”

“And O’Neill can prove all this?” Lytton demanded.

“That’s what he’s been doing,” she said. “They’ve had forensic accountants tracing the money, including the funds Allardice transferred out to Spain to start his bar. O’Neill had to play along and wait until Quinlan took his retirement package and went out with a new payoff before he could arrange to have the pair of them grabbed.”

“Which he’s now done,” Lytton guessed, and heard the utter relief in his own voice.

“Which he’s now done,” Kelly echoed, satisfaction in hers. “I’ve been in Spain seeing this thing through. Got back this morning and came straight up here.” She nodded to the rucksack at her feet.

“Well I’m glad you did,” he said. “Am I supposed to ask why?”

She gave him a smile that was almost shy. “O’Neill told me you offered to post my bail. I wanted to . . . thank you. In person.”

He realised he was still grasping her upper arms and he loosened his grip, slipping his hands round onto her back and tracing the outline of her shoulder blades, the indentations of her spine, with his fingertips. He watched her face all the while, saw what he hoped to see and began to draw her closer.

At the last moment Kelly brought her hands up and wedged them against his chest.

“No,” she said, but when he would have released her with a muttered apology she added, “not here, that’s all. I mean, I want to, don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t sure if you did, but . . . I meant not right outside the church where you’ve just held your wife’s memorial service.”

“Where, then?” The question came out more starkly than he intended.

Another gust of wind whipped between the gravestones and she shivered. “Anywhere that isn’t so damned cold would be a good start.”

Matthew Lytton smiled.

“I hear the Bahamas is very nice this time of year . . .”

—END—

From the Author’s notebook

The whole idea behind THE BLOOD WHISPERER came about because I was playing around with the theme of trust. As a London crime-scene specialist Kelly Jacks trusted what the evidence she collected was telling her and she enjoyed the particular trust of her colleagues who nicknamed her The Blood Whisperer because of her affinity with the work she carried out.

Then that trust is betrayed. Everyone she’s ever known lets her down and turns away from her. And when she’s tried and convicted of a violent crime she even loses trust in herself over her own innocence or guilt.

So the story is also about the rebuilding of Kelly’s ability to trust—in the evidence, in herself, and both in the people she’s known for years and those she’s only just met. I was originally going to call the book THE CARRION CREW, a play on the name of Kelly’s mentor and boss of the crime-scene cleaning firm, Ray McCarron, but was worried it had too many horror overtones for a crime novel. Then my husband suggested THE BLOOD WHISPERER and that fitted just right.

Although I’ve been writing the Charlie Fox series for some years now, that doesn’t mean I’m not interested in exploring other characters and other situations. I hope, however, that fans of Charlie Fox will find much to like in another strong female protagonist—Kelly Jacks.

Acknowledgements

Getting this book to fruition seems to have been a long and tortuous path, and I’m eternally grateful to the various people who test-read it, either in small chunks or the whole thing, some of them several times: JT Ellison, Sarah Harrison, Kate Kinchen, Kirsty Long, Michelle Wilbye, Tim Winfield, and all the members of the Warehouse Writers Group in Kendal. You have the patience of a whole congregation of saints.

Further editorial input came initially from Stephanie Glencross, and latterly from Rhian Davies. Thank you both so much for your efforts.

Specific information on certain aspects of climbing was provided by Jo Roberts, and on forensics by Home Office Pathologist Bill Lawler. I am aware that the Government-run Forensic Science Service, based at Lambeth, was closed in March 2012, but you’ll just have to suspend your disbelief long enough to understand that the events of this book took place before that date, if you’d be so kind.

And finally, a big thank you to my talented designer, Jane Hudson at NuDesign, who came up with the stunning cover for this novel.

If you’ve enjoyed THE BLOOD WHISPERER, why not try Zoë Sharp’s Other Works:

the Charlie Fox crime thrillers

KILLER INSTINCT: book one

RIOT ACT: book two

HARD KNOCKS: book three

Books one, two and three are available as an e-boxed set:

A TRIPLE SHOT of Charlie Fox

FIRST DROP: book four

ROAD KILL: book five

SECOND SHOT: book six

Books four, five and six are available as an e-boxed set:

ANOTHER ROUND of Charlie Fox

THIRD STRIKE: book seven

FOURTH DAY: book eight

FIFTH VICTIM: book nine

DIE EASY: book ten

ABSENCE OF LIGHT: a Charlie Fox novella

Short stories

The Night Butterflies

Last Right

Tell Me

Across The Broken Line

FOX FIVE: Charlie Fox short story collection

A Bridge Too Far

Postcards From Another Country

Served Cold

Off Duty

Truth And Lies

Rules Of Engagement

Browse my Bookshelf

KILLER INSTINCT

Charlie Fox book one

‘Susie Hollins may have been no great shakes as a karaoke singer, but I didn’t think that was enough reason for anyone to want to kill her.’

Charlie Fox makes a living teaching self-defence to women in a quiet northern English city. It makes best use of the deadly skills she picked up after being kicked out of army Special Forces training for reasons she prefers not to go into. So, when Susie Hollins is found dead hours after she foolishly takes on Charlie at the New Adelphi Club, Charlie knows it’s only a matter of time before the police come calling. What they don’t tell her is that Hollins is the latest victim of a homicidal rapist stalking the local area.

Charlie finds herself drawn closer to the crime when the New Adelphi’s enigmatic owner, Marc Quinn, offers her a job working security at the club. Viewed as an outsider by the existing all-male team, her suspicion that there’s a link between the club and a serial killer doesn’t exactly endear her to anyone. Charlie has always taught her students that it’s better to run than to stand and fight, But, when the killer starts taking a very personal interest, it’s clear he isn’t going to give her that option . . .

‘Charlie looks like a made-for-TV model, with her red hair and motorcycle leathers, but Sharp means business. The bloody bar fights are bloody brilliant, and Charlie’s skills are both formidable and for real.’ Marilyn Stasio, New York Times

‘Sharp deserves a genre all her own – if you are just discovering Zoë Sharp then you are in for a real treat.’ Jon Jordan, Crimespree Magazine

‘Charlotte (Charlie) Fox is one of the most vivid and engaging heroines ever to swagger onto the pages of a book. Where Charlie goes, thrills follow.’ Tess Gerritsen

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RIOT ACT

Charlie Fox book two

“I am a violent man, Miss Fox,” Garton-Jones said, without bravado or inflection. “I can – and will – do whatever is necessary to control this estate. Remember that.”

A self-defence expert with a motorbike and an attitude, Charlie Fox doesn't need to go looking for trouble. It generally finds her. House-sitting for a friend seems like an easy favour at first but the house in question is in the Lavender Gardens estate. Teenage gangs are running riot and Charlie's desperate neighbours have been forced to employ an expensive – and ruthless – security firm to apply rough justice where the legal kind has failed. The situation gets even uglier when a young Asian boy is fatally wounded in what appears to be a racially motivated shooting.

Caught in the middle of an urban battlefield, Charlie's more than able to take care of herself but then she comes face to face with a spectre from her army past. As the tensions rise, lives will depend on Charlie working out just who she can really trust . . .

‘Sharp's first novel, Killer Instinct was a good read, but within the first few pages of Riot Act she surpasses herself. She succeeds in bringing the characters alive and Charlie Fox makes a powerful and attractive heroine. Equally, her other characters work well and she succeeds in creating snappy dialogue and mixing it well with action.

'At times, Riot Act feels slightly reminiscent of Minette Walters' 'Acid Row'. . . (Sharp) takes her Lancashire setting, throws in a great deal of action and creates a fast-paced novel that is guaranteed to build on the reputation created by her debut novel and make her known as an up-and-coming talent in the crime world.' Luke Croll, Murder & Mayhem Book Club

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HARD KNOCKS

Charlie Fox book three

'Perhaps if the army had known what was inside me, what I would eventually turn into, they might not have been so keen to let me go.'

Charlie really didn't care who shot dead her traitorous ex-army comrade Kirk Salter during a bodyguard training course in Germany. But when old flame Sean Meyer asks her to go undercover at Major Gilby's elite school and find out what happened to Kirk she just can't bring herself to refuse.

Keeping her nerve isn't easy when events bring back fears and memories she's worked so hard to forget. It's clear there are secrets at Einsbaden Manor that people are willing to kill to conceal. Some of the students on this particular course seem to have more on their minds than simply learning about close protection. Subjects like revenge, and murder. And what's the connection between the school and the recent spate of vicious kidnappings that have left a trail of bodies halfway across Europe?

To find out what's going on, Charlie must face up to her past and move quickly before she becomes the next casualty. She expected training to be tough, but can she graduate from this school of hard knocks alive?

'If you only know Charlie Fox from First Drop, Second Shot, and Third Strike, you don't know Charlie. What you've got in your hands is a rare and special treat. It’s like finding some lost Jack Reacher novel or a couple of non-alphabet Kinsey Millhones that nobody knew existed. Don't let anyone tear it from your hands without drawing their blood.

'Think of these as the early years of Charlie Fox − she’s lethal and relentless, but still raw from the military experience that made her the kickass, take-no-prisoners bodyguard that she’s become.

'But there’s more going on in these books than breakneck action and adventure. Charlie has heart, maybe too much for a woman in her profession . . . and it’s that caring, that humanity, that makes her much more than a killer babe on a motorbike. These books are your chance to discover Charlie Fox as she discovers herself, her strengths and her weaknesses, and sustains the scars to her body and soul that make her such a unique and compelling character.' US crime author and TV producer, Lee Goldberg

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FIRST DROP

Charlie Fox book four

'The guy in the passenger seat was closest. He got out first, so I shot him first. Two rounds high in the chest.'

Nominated for the Barry Award for Best British Crime Novel.

It should have been an easy introduction to Charlie Fox's new career as a bodyguard. In fact, it should have been almost a working holiday. She just has to look after the gawky fifteen-year-old son of a rich computer programmer in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Trey Pelzner is theme park mad and in theory all Charlie has to do is baby-sit him on the rollercoasters.

The last thing anyone expected was a determined attempt to snatch the boy, or that Trey's father and their entire close protection team – including Charlie's boss, Sean Meyer – would disappear off the face of the earth at the same time.

Now somebody out there wants the boy badly and they're prepared to kill anyone who gets in their way. Evading them, in a strange country, takes all the skill and courage Charlie possesses.

As she soon discovers, once you've hit the first drop there's no going back, and you'd better hang on tight because you're in for a wild ride.

‘Sharp's aim is dead on in her stunning US debut, the fourth book to star ultra-cool biker chick Charlie Fox. The no-nonsense, 26-year-old Charlie, a former British Army soldier (and survivor of a gruesome gang rape) has joined the protection agency of her ex-lover, Sean Meyer. On her first assignment, Charlie finds herself on a too thrilling rollercoaster ride in Florida, guarding geeky 15-year-old Trey Pelzner, son of Keith, a computer whiz working for a small software company specializing in accounting and data manipulation. After an attempt is made on Trey's life, Charlie calls for backup that turns out to be anything but and soon discovers that Keith − the developer of a faulty stock indicator program − has vanished, as has Sean. Action-packed, tightly plotted and with an irresistible first-person narration, this crisp, original thriller should win Sharp (Hard Knocks, etc.) plenty of American fans.’ Publishers Weekly starred review

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ROAD KILL

Charlie Fox book five

“If you stay involved with Sean Meyer you will end up killing again,” my father said. “And next time, Charlotte, you might not get away with it.”

Still bearing the emotional scars from her traumatic first bodyguarding job in the States, Charlie Fox returns to her former home to try and work out both her personal and professional future.

Instead of the peace for which she's been hoping, Charlie is immediately caught up in the aftermath of a fatal bike crash involving one of her closest friends. The more she probes, the more she suspects that the accident was far from accidental – and the more she finds herself relying on the support of her troubled boss, Sean Meyer, despite her misgivings over the wisdom of resuming their relationship.

And Charlie's got enough on her plate trying to work out who suddenly wants her dead. The only way to find out is to infiltrate a group of illegal road racers who appear hell-bent on living fast and dying young.

Taking risks is something that ex-Special Forces soldier Charlie knows all about, but doing it just for kicks seems like asking for trouble. By the time she finds out what's really at stake, she might be too late to stop them all becoming road kill . . .

‘After the traumatic events that took place in First Drop, Charlie Fox is back in England to recuperate. But then an old friend is seriously injured after a motorbike accident (that kills the driver) and Charlie's lethal instincts kick in to find out what the real story is, and who the true target was. It's really quite impossible to put this book down, but what really makes this (and the whole series) shine is how Charlie's kickass skills are rooted in her own femininity and character.’ Sarah Weinman, Confessions of an Idiosyncratic Mind

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