Legacy of the Butcher: A Logan Thorne DCI Scottish Detective Thriller by Duncan Wallace

Author:Duncan Wallace [Wallace, Duncan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-02-19T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Eric Conway came to a few minutes later. His eyes fluttered open wearily, and when he realised I knelt next to him, there was a disappointed grimace on his face as though he hoped to be elsewhere, and it had all been a bad dream.

“Are you okay?” I asked him.

He coughed, rubbed the back of his head, and winced. Conway blushed at the sight of Harding, like he was embarrassed, and then struggled to sit up right.

“It’s just blood,” he mumbled. “I don’t like it.”

That was an understatement.

I’d shoved my injured thumb inside my pocket, careful not to cause Conway to take another nosedive again, but it was barely an injury. I’d bled more during a morning shave.

I motioned to Harding that the man needed a cup of water, and she reluctantly refilled the paper cup, handed it to me, and then stood aside with her arms on her hips. Conway sat back in his chair and gulped down the water as droplets stuck to his chin and dripped down his neck. It wasn’t a pretty sight, though I could feel a bit more sympathy for him.

“DCI Thorne, may I speak to you for a moment?” Harding asked in a thunderous voice, which didn’t really require an answer.

I headed out the door with her, and she immediately rounded on me.

“Never mind Johnny Depp, Eric Conway should win an Oscar,” she exploded.

“Did you think that was an act?” I asked with a sceptical tilt.

Harding stopped her fidgeting and stared at me.

“You don’t?” she asked.

“He’s a classic hemophobe,” I said. “A phobia of blood. I suspected as soon as he saw the photos. That was just a photograph of blood, and you saw how he withdrew into himself. I wanted to test the theory.” I remembered my cut and removed my hand to inspect it. I sucked the tip of my thumb and winced as it stung.

“He was playing you,” Harding pressed. “It wasn’t real.”

“Madeline,” I said with an exasperated sigh.

“Who do you think you are, sir, my mother?” she snapped. “Don’t first name me.”

I swallowed a smile and remembered my frustration.

“Don’t you remember how Dr. Liu described the attack?” I argued. “There would have been blood everywhere. And we saw the aftermath ourselves.”

“Maybe he’s faking!” she said. “Don’t you think you’re so focused on not repeating DCI Lister’s mistakes, that you’re making your own?”

My eyes narrowed, and I felt warm with a sudden rush of anger. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to be angry with my partner, I hardly ever was, but I resented her accusation that I was so petty and narcissistic. I took a deep breath and forced myself to set aside the anger. It was still there, but at least it wouldn’t boil over.

“Normally,” I said. “I would be completely on board with your cautious, always assuming it’s a lie approach. I’d be the leader of the charge. But do you really think he faked fainting?”

“His blood sugar is low,” Harding said with a determined and fiery expression.

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