The Ice Killer by Greenwood Ross

Author:Greenwood, Ross [Greenwood, Ross]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crime, Mystery, thriller, Contemporary, Suspense, Adult
ISBN: 9781838895563
Amazon: B087RPXYKK
Goodreads: 59248620
Publisher: Boldwood Books
Published: 2020-11-05T08:00:00+00:00

47

The Ice Killer

The day darkens as evening approaches. Sleet has arrived and swirls around me. I’m glad I put a hoodie on even though the flakes are light. I walk up and down the street, spotting only one carpet shop: Windmill Furnishers. The surrounding businesses on the parade clearly struggle for trade. It’s a shabby row of buildings, little more than converted houses, opposite the flash multinationals of Marks and Spencer and Morrisons across the dual carriageway. Sam’s shop looks empty, although if he works full time, the chances are that he’ll be there.

A boom of thunder overhead warns of worsening conditions and, sure enough, heavy rain and sleet fall simultaneously. I step into the phone booth outside Windmill Furnishers and pick up the handset to pretend I’m mid-call. The precipitation hardens and hammers at my glass shell. I don’t recall a sleet storm before. I can’t see anything, so edge the door open a little and stare past the discount banners stuck to the windows.

Hofstadt appears from a back room and walks towards the front window. It seems as though he’s staring right at me, but he looks up at the weather. He frowns at the black clouds and shivers. His hair, once flecked with grey, is almost white now. In my mind, he was in his late forties still, but he can’t be far off sixty, and that time would have included hard, anxious, stressful, long days under lock and key. His cheekbones jut from his face as he scowls and retreats into the shop.

He must hate his new career. Before, he was on incredible money as an anaesthetist. He had respect, status and, I realise with a sickening jolt, incredible power. His job was riddled with temptations for a sex offender. Did he steal drugs from work? What foul, depraved offences has he committed on unconscious people? Is there a more vulnerable moment than being sedated for an operation? I shiver as I think of the thousands of children who had been under his care over the years.

It rains solidly for thirty minutes and I’m not disturbed in my phone booth. Few venture out on such a dark, foreboding evening. Just before six, I step from the booth in the expectation that he may finish soon. The dual lanes behind me surge with rush-hour traffic. A trundling cement truck splashes water over my legs as high as my knees. I barely notice because I’m looking at the shop exit and my ex is leaving.

‘Sam. Sam Hofstadt.’

He flinches and only cocks his head in my direction. There’s a cornered snarl to his top lip. Eyes narrow as he tries to place the blonde lady in wet clothes.

‘It’s me, Ellen.’

His first reaction is to smile and stride towards me, but concern halts his steps as he, I imagine, remembers the details of our parting.

‘Nice to see you again,’ he says.

He shuffles away, an old man.

‘Wait. I want…’

My mouth closes. What do I want? I came with questions, but I’m not sure I want the answers.

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