Phobia by Stewart Giles

Author:Stewart Giles [Giles, Stewart]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers & Suspense, Crime, Crime Fiction, Thrillers
Amazon: B018K0VVM2
Publisher: Stewart Giles
Published: 2015-11-24T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Thursday 14 September 2006

Smith woke up early. His head was throbbing and his mouth felt incredibly dry. He went downstairs and drank two glasses of water in quick succession. He switched on the kettle to make some coffee then switched it off again. He felt like a run; he needed to do something to clear his head. He went back upstairs, put on his shorts, T shirt and trainers, ran back down the stairs and left the house. He ran down the road towards the park. He often used to run this route but it had been a long time since he had got any proper exercise and he could feel it. By the time he reached the park, he was so exhausted that he had to stop for a while. A young boy walked towards him. He was drinking from a can of coke. When he spotted Smith he turned round and quickly walked off in the opposite direction. Smith watched him as he threw the empty coke can into a bush at the side of the path.

Smith jogged one lap of the park. His headache was gone and his mind felt much clearer. The boy he had seen earlier was nowhere in sight. Smith was about to leave the park and run home when something came to him. He remembered who the boy in the park was. It was Barry Dunn, Liam Fletcher’s step son.

Why did he turn round and walk away when he spotted me? Smith thought.

Smith’s brain started to work at a hundred miles per hour. Thoughts darted in and out of his head. He retraced his steps and came to where he remembered Barry Dunn throwing the coke into the bushes.

Why didn’t I think of this before? He thought.

He rummaged around in the bushes until he found the empty coke can. He carefully picked it up by the top and ran back up the road to his house.

Grant Webber had just arrived when Smith walked in the forensics building in the centre of the city. Webber did not look pleased to see Smith.

“Morning Webber,” Smith said, “I need you to check this for prints.”

He handed Webber the coke can.

“What’s this all about?” Webber said, “I’ve barely got in the door, I haven’t even had my first cup of coffee yet and you want me to check a coke can that has probably been contaminated with your own fingerprints.”

“Check the side,” Smith said, “I only picked it up by the top. Please Webber, this is important.”

Webber shook his head and marched off to his laboratory. Smith followed behind him.

Twenty minutes later, Webber was finished.

“Easy as pie,” Webber said, “the texture of the metal is a beautiful medium for us forensics geeks. I pulled some real beauties.”

“You really love your job don’t you?” Smith said.

“I do,” Webber said, “now, are you going to explain the urgency?”

“Can you check the prints against the ones you found on the sandpaper yesterday?” Smith said, “I assume you still have them?”

“I won’t even insult myself by answering that,” Webber said.

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