Blood for Blood by Victoria Selman

Author:Victoria Selman [Selman, Victoria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Thriller
ISBN: 9781542040525
Google: KaO-tgEACAAJ
Amazon: 1542040523
Barnesnoble: 1542040523
Goodreads: 40049298
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Published: 2019-02-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 44

A chill flows into Raguel’s arteries. His heart begins to pound. He squeezes his eyes shut and presses them with his fingers so hard he can see sharp specks of light inside his lids.

It’s happening more often now. The flashbacks are creeping up on him at the slightest provocation. Sometimes with no provocation at all.

CHAPTER 45

After Paddy had left, I sat down at my desk and reread the Lacerator’s letter on my laptop.

A shadow swept across the room as the sun slipped behind a cloud. On the road below there were sounds of an altercation: hooting, angry voices, the screech of tyres.

I massaged my sinuses and exhaled slowly through my nose. It was the opening line that was bothering me, not that I’d mentioned it to Paddy. I didn’t want him giving me any more shit about needing a protective detail. And yet . . .

I was with you this morning as you bent over my offering.

Had the Lacerator written it to spook me or was it true? Could he have been at the crime scene?

A calculated lie didn’t fit the profile. Nor did it fit with the theme of the letter, which was about establishing a bond between us and helping me get to know him better. How was messing with my noggin going to achieve that?

He must have been at the scene this morning, then. There were nine of us on site: me, Fingerling, the crime scene manager, five CSIs and the copper standing guard. No way the Lacerator could have snuck in unnoticed. So how had he seen me examining the body?

I closed my eyes, remembering the layout of the alley. In the SF we were trained to observe and recall the most seemingly insignificant details. All this time later and I still can’t drive past a car without noting its make, model and registration plate.

There was a high wall on one side and some low-level buildings on the other – the back of three restaurants. There were two windows. One was directly in front of where the corpse was positioned, though it was three metres up from the ground.

If anyone had been observing us through it, we would have seen them. The other window was much further along to the left. It was a small rectangular window with frosted glass. And it was shut. No way someone could have been spying on us.

As I absorbed the implications, my whole body tightened like I was being zipped up in a cadaver pouch two sizes too small for me. If the Lacerator hadn’t been lying about being at the crime scene that meant he had to be one of us; a CSI, the PC – or Nigel Fingerling.

I got up from my desk and started pacing the room, going through the options.

The forensics team and the police officer were from the night shift, so they’d have been on duty at the time of the murder. So their movements would have been tracked the whole time. That ruled them out.

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