THE VIXEN'S SCREAM: A captivating murder mystery featuring DCI Jack Harris (Detective Chief Inspector Jack Harris Book 2) by John Dean

Author:John Dean [Dean, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: THE BOOK FOLKS British detective murder mystery publisher
Published: 2017-04-06T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter eleven

Doctor John Hailes walked into the cell at Levton Bridge Police Station and looked at the downcast figure of Josh Fellows sitting on the bench.

‘How are you?’ asked Hailes.

Josh did not reply. Hailes noticed that he was trembling.

‘This man should not be in a police cell,’ said the doctor, turning to the uniformed officer standing at the door. ‘He’s ill.’

‘Better take it up with the sergeant,’ shrugged the uniform. ‘He arrested him.’

‘Don’t worry, I will,’ said the doctor. ‘This man is not fit for questioning.’

* * *

A weary Alistair Marshall and PC Steve Norris knocked on the last house in the village and, after a brief, fruitless conversation with the elderly occupant, walked back down to the patrol car parked next to the green.

‘Well, that was a waste of time,’ said Norris. ‘Apart from that bloke who saw the Audi.’

‘Might be important, you never know,’ said Marshall, getting into the passenger seat. ‘Could help us clear up that break-in at Jim Garbutt’s place, if nothing else.’

‘I guess.’

Norris got into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. He was about to pull away when he spied in his rear view mirror a white Transit van heading down the hill towards them. Glancing round, he saw that it was being driven by Gary Rylance, who waved as he went past.

‘Thought he was going to get some sleep,’ said Norris.

‘So did I. Anyway, come on, I’ve just remembered that the sarge wants us to do one more thing before we go back to the station.’

Twenty minutes later, they were back on the edge of Levton Bridge, knocking on the door of the grubby terraced house occupied by Lenny Mattocks, with its grimy paintwork and dirty front window. Marshall was about to knock again when the door was opened by Mattocks. Unshaven and tousle-haired, he was dressed in tattered jeans and a threadbare T-shirt.

‘What do you want?’ he grunted.

‘A chat about someone throwing stones at a cottage near Carperby last night.’

‘Weren’t me.’

‘We think it was,’ said Marshall, jamming his foot in the door as Mattocks tried to close it. ‘Can we come in?’

Mattocks sighed and ushered them into the hallway with its mouldy wallpaper and thin carpet then into the dingy living room where the officers wrinkled their noses at the fetid smell. Mattocks gestured to a couple of ramshackle armchairs.

‘We’ll stand, thank you,’ said Marshall. ‘Now, last night? Are you sure it wasn’t you up by the cottage? We’ve got the stones, what do you think forensics will…?’

‘It weren’t me, I tell you.’

‘Listen, Lenny, we’re investigating the murder of Hannah Matthews and…’

Mattocks looked alarmed.

‘Hey, that weren’t nothing to do with me,’ he protested.

‘No one is saying that it was but we are trying to trace anyone who has been in that area over the past three days.’

Mattocks thought for a few moments.

‘So if I admit it was me throwing stones, I ain’t in no trouble?’ he asked.

‘Possibly not.’

‘OK,’ said Mattocks, ‘yes, it were me throwing them stones, she fucked me off, she did, complaining to Mr Harris like that.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.