Cat Flap by Ian Jarvis

Author:Ian Jarvis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sherlock holmes, mystery, crime, british crime, sherlock holmes fiction, sherlock holmes novel
ISBN: 9781787050426
Publisher: Andrews UK
Published: 2017-01-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 40

Rex brought the Ferrari to a halt on Minster Avenue, switched off the York map on his satnav and gazed over his shades at the motorcycles parked outside the suburban house. It was dark and lights shone behind the closed curtains. He wasn’t sure how to go about this and he’d been hoping the private detective would be here. Quist was okay at questioning people and handy to have around if things turned nasty. He swallowed uncomfortably, then switched off the 007 soundtrack and climbed from the car.

‘Oh, come on,’ he muttered. ‘You know Kung Fu. What are you scared of?’

Rex had never actually been in a fight, but he had plenty of cash. If things got out of hand here, he could always pay them not to hurt him.

This was obviously the place, but there was no sign of an all-day party. The front door was half-open, but no sound came from the house. The neighbours appeared to be out too, although if bikers had been partying next door, this went without saying. Sliding the Walther pistol down his waistband and taking a deep breath, Rex walked slowly up the path and reached for the bell. His finger hesitated and, instead of ringing, he pushed the door fully open and slipped inside.

Apart from party debris, the wide passage was empty. Judging from the silence, so was the house. So where were the owners of the bikes parked outside? Puzzled and apprehensive, Rex picked his way through the litter, his nose wrinkling at the weird metallic stench. He grimaced at the countless cigarette butts, bits of pizza, broken glass, severed hands, empty cans...

He slowly turned back. It lay in a pile of lager bottles, and no matter how much logic attempted to dissuade him, it certainly looked like a hand. It was hand-shaped, with fingers and ragged tendons, but a human hand on the passage carpet? He stared incredulously. It must have been quite a party for a biker to get this torn off and leave it behind. Nudging the grisly object with his toe, he backed away to the open door of the lounge.

The owner of the hand wouldn’t have much use for it any more - that was obvious. He wouldn’t need his legs either, which was just as well, for they lay by the fireplace. Apart from an autopsy, he wouldn’t need anything, because like everyone else in the lounge, he was dead. Rex stood very still, his jaw falling. The metallic smell he’d noticed earlier wasn’t garbage, but blood; a dark, sticky lake covered the carpet. He couldn’t determine the number of claw-slashed bodies–limbs, heads and ragged corpses were everywhere. The logical part of his brain told him to simply count the heads. Another more basic part told him to soil himself and run.

He turned in a trance to the staircase. A disembowelled biker sprawled on the landing, his dripping entrails draped through the spindles like some horrific bead curtain. He shuffled numbly into the kitchen to find another corpse by the door.

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.