Witch Hunt by Stephen Leather

Witch Hunt by Stephen Leather

Author:Stephen Leather [Leather, Stephen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: vampire, supernatural, zombie, devil worship, supernatural detective
Publisher: Stephen Leather
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 26

Nightingale was on his second cigarette when his chauffeur arrived. She was short, probably not more than five foot two, but minimum height regulations were a thing of the past for police officers in Britain. Her uniform looked a little tight on her, and Nightingale guessed she’d be advised to lose a stone at her next medical, but, these days, minimum fitness standards were held to be discriminatory. Her blonde hair was tucked neatly into her uniform cap, and her cheeks reddened when she smiled at him.

“Mr Nightingale? I’m PC Lily Jenkins. I’ve been asked to drive you home.”

Nightingale grinned. “That might take you a while, I live in Bayswater. I’ll settle for my hotel in Great Wenham, if that’s okay.”

“That’ll be fine. You’re not in a hurry?”

“No, why?”

“I just like using the siren.” She smiled. “Joke.”

“No, we won’t need to break any speed limits, today.”

“Shame.” She stopped next to a Ford Focus, with the yellow and blue markings of Suffolk Constabulary. PC Jenkins started it up and pulled into traffic.

“Won’t take long,” she said. “You’re far from home, Mr Nightingale.”

“Yes, I like to see how the country people live.” He grinned. “I’m surprised you’ve got cars out here.”

She laughed. “Mrs Steadman said you had a strange sense of humour.”

Nightingale tried to conceal his surprise as he looked across at her. “Ah, so you’re her inside woman.”

The smile disappeared. “She also said you could be relied upon not to give me away. It would mean my job, possibly even prison.”

“My lips are sealed. No need to worry. Tell me, did you hear anything about last night? Your DCI Douglas seemed keen to know what I was doing.”

“Oh, they haven’t released the news about that one yet, though I’m sure it’ll be the talk of the neighbourhood before long. Old lady called Sarah Hartwood-Harris; Lady Hartwood-Harris, in fact. She lived at the gatehouse of Hartwood Manor, been in her family for ages, the Manor, I mean. Someone strangled her in her own hallway last night.”

“What time?”

“Around nineish, they think, but nobody saw anything.”

“And they’re connecting it with the others?”

“Looks that way, obviously I’m not in on all the discussions, but I did see the latest poem. It was at the bottom of the stairs, apparently.”

“Did you copy it?”

“Not yet, but I can tell you what it said.”

“Go on.”

She frowned as she concentrated. “AND SO DEPARTS NUMBER FIVE. THOU SHALT NOT SUFFER THEM TO STAY ALIVE. STEARNE.”

“How did they spell that last word?” asked Nightingale.

“S-T-E-A-R-N-E.”

“And what does DCI Douglas make of that?”

“I wouldn’t know, he doesn’t confide in me. I do know he’d have my guts for garters if he heard I’d been talking to you.”

“Well I’m glad you are.”

“I’m a Wiccan, Mr Nightingale, and there’s something about this case that isn’t...that isn’t right. It’s not just murder, there’s something deeply evil about it. I feel it. That’s why I needed to talk to Mrs Steadman, and she agreed with me. It’s why she sent you down here.”

“Makes me sound like her faithful bloodhound.



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