Complete Detective Stephen Greco Box Set by Helen H Durrant

Author:Helen H Durrant [Durrant, Helen H]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781789314571
Publisher: Joffe Books crime thrillers and mysteries
Published: 2020-06-30T22:00:00+00:00

THE END

Book 3:

DARK TRADE

A gripping crime thriller full of twists

Helen H. Durrant

To Shelley and Melissa — my two lovely daughters.

Prologue

The knife slid in between the ribs, the tip positioned at the fifth intercostal space, then six inches of hard steel driven upwards. A split second later it entered his heart.

“Sorry. Nothing personal.”

The kid turned, squinting up at his assailant. A strange face, smiling down at him, followed by a sharp pain as the knife was yanked free. For a moment he was stunned, frozen as his brain tried to process what had happened. His hands and eyes flew to his chest. There was blood, more than he’d ever seen. He sank to his knees, unable to scream. Shock and disbelief had taken away his voice. Seconds later he was dead.

* * *

Pocketing the knife, his assailant bent down and kicked him onto his back. He straightened the boy’s legs, and neatly folded his arms across his chest. He put a hand to the jacket pocket — nothing but a few coins. No wallet, mobile or anything else to identify him. Made the job easy, just as Mickey liked it.

“A practised hand, I’d no idea. Boss’ll be impressed,” the driver said as Mickey slid into the passenger seat.

“He’s not my boss. I work for myself. Just get me out of this poxy car park.”

“Don’t get shirty with me.”

The killer examined the meagre haul. “He didn’t have much. Only a kid. What did he do to deserve that?”

“Became a liability. Slicer likes things neat and tidy.” The driver laughed.

“Slicer is an arse.”

The driver looked at him. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“Slicer doesn’t frighten me.”

“Well, he should.”

“Slicer can go to hell! You got my money?”

“Slicer said when it’s over.”

“He’s dead. It’s over. You don’t leave this car until I get paid.” There was menace in the words and the driver gripped the wheel, looking ahead.

“He wants to talk,” he admitted. “Pay you himself. Offer you a deal.”

Mickey shuffled uneasily on the seat. “I don’t do meetings. Ring him. Get me my money.”

“Ring him yourself!”

Mickey didn’t like this, it wasn’t how these things worked. A name, a place and payment on results. Anything else was a complication.

“Where does he want to meet?”

The driver smiled. “That’s better. Now relax. He’s got a deal you will be interested in.”

“Where?”

“I’ll pick you up, same place, midday tomorrow,” said the driver. “Don’t worry. Slicer will have your money.”

“He better have.”

“Cocky bastard, aren’t you, kid?”

“No. What I am, is good.”

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