Stop Them Dead - Detective Roy Grace Series 19 (2023) by James Peter

Author:James, Peter [James, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

61

Sunday 28 March

Roy Grace arrived home dejectedly, shortly after 10.30 p.m., hoping against hope as he climbed out of his car that he would hear the familiar sound of Humphrey’s excited barking. But as he slammed the door shut behind him, all he heard was the faint, distant bleating of sheep.

An equally downbeat Cleo greeted him as he entered the house. They hugged.

‘God,’ she said tearfully, ‘I’m so worried about him.’

‘He’s not in the park – I shouted myself hoarse and so did Charlie.’

‘He could have run out into the main road, the A27, and been hit by a car,’ she said. ‘He could just be lying there at the roadside. Do you think we should go and look there?’

‘I already did,’ he said. ‘I drove up and down it slowly enough, all along the side of the park, looking for just that, and I didn’t see anything. I’ve also called it in, in case any patrols see a stray dog out and about.’

They went into the kitchen and sat down on bar stools. ‘Do you want a drink?’ she asked.

‘I’ll have a small whisky. I’ll get it.’

‘I’ll do it,’ she said, and told him about the call from the con-woman as she poured him a generous portion of his favourite, Craigellachie. Handing him the glass, she said, ‘I’ve been in contact with a Facebook group. They say if you suspect your dog has been stolen, the best way to get it back is to make it too hot to handle, then they’ll release the dog because they can’t sell it. Spread the word via local Facebook pages and missing pet pages. I’ve been doing that all evening.’

‘With the reward?’

She nodded. ‘One hundred pounds, yes.’

He took a sip, feeling the welcome burn of the neat whisky down his throat and hitting the spot in his stomach, and thinking hard about what else they could do.

‘Have you eaten anything?’ Cleo asked, concerned.

‘I had a cereal bar in the car.’

‘You need more than that. Shall I make you a sandwich, or microwave something from the freezer?’

He shook his head. ‘I’m fine, really. Look, I’m sure he’s going to turn up.’

‘Why hasn’t anyone called? Apart from that prank bitch?’

He shrugged. ‘I guess – you know – it’s Sunday night. Maybe whoever’s found him hasn’t been looking at social media yet. Or perhaps they’re planning to take him to the RSPCA or maybe somewhere like Raystede over near Hailsham in the morning.’

‘I’ve rung the RSPCA and Raystede and all the other animal rescue places I could find on the internet – nothing.’

‘It’s early doors, darling.’

‘God, I hope you’re right.’

Silently, sipping some more whisky, he hoped, too, he was right. ‘I can’t imagine anyone has just stolen him. Not a mature dog of his age. And when they do look on the internet and see the reward, they’ll be in touch. I’m sure they will.’

Although with what he knew about the current levels of criminality in the dog world, he was less confident than he sounded.

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