Through a Glass Darkly by Bill Hussey

Author:Bill Hussey [Hussey, Bill]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781908238313
Publisher: Beautiful Books
Published: 2011-09-19T23:00:00+00:00

She spent the rest of the afternoon reading through transcripts of interviews from the usual collection of cranks and attention seekers that come forward after a TV appeal. Five murder confessions, none mentioning the extraction of fat. One haunted mind had claimed that the voice of Johnny Morris, speaking through his Yorkshire terrier, had told him to kill the child. A DC, who obviously hadn’t thought her transcript would be read at any senior level, had scrawled- ‘Copy To: Jack Trent – Plausible, don’tcha think?’

Dawn always double-checked these ‘freak’ confessions. The OIC on her first major case had told her: ‘Remember, you ain’t lookin’ for one crazy in the midst of a bunch of sane people. Out there, they’re all crazy.’

For every ten minutes taken up reading the masturbatory fantasies of would-be killers, she would spend twenty examining the stills. She supposed she had to believe Manny when he told her the video had not been digitally altered. An elaborate prank then? The lecture was a set-up. The faces were masks. She could hardly see the university allowing its most hallowed lecture hall to be used like that. And then there would have to have been a conspiracy between the students in the audience, which surely would have come to light. But if it wasn’t a joke perpetrated on the day, and the film had not been tampered with, what then? She threw the stills into her bag. It was time to pick up Jamie from practice.

By the time she reached the playing fields, she had tried Jack’s phone a half dozen times. Always the same message greeted her – you cannot be connected. Rain drilled the windscreen. She grabbed her umbrella, stepped out of the car and slammed the door. She would drop Jamie at her dad’s, drive straight to Jack’s and wait outside until he returned. All bloody night if she had to.

The pitch was deserted. It was only six-fifteen by her watch. A group of boys traipsed across the field, their heads low against the driving rain.

‘Hey!’ she called. ‘What’s happened with practice tonight?’

A kid she recognised as one of Jamie’s team mates came running over.

‘Mrs Howard? No, called off. Coach thought it was too wet. Look, is J with you?’

‘He’s not with you? Where is he?’

‘He bummed off school. Look, he owes me a …’

‘I don’t care what he owes you. Don’t stand there like a bloody halfwit …’

‘Hey, chill. I don’t know where he is, okay? I gotta go.’

The boy rejoined his gang. He said something and they all looked in her direction and laughed. She pulled out her mobile and grunted. The battery was dead. Where the hell was her little boy?

‘Dawn, he’s with me.’

Jack. She felt a strong urge to kiss him. To put her lips to his face. To bless the bridging scar between his eyes. Jamie was with him. That meant her son was safe.

‘Where is he?’

‘I told him to wait in your car. Don’t you ever lock that thing?’

For some reason, his question seemed very funny.

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