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“Someone’s gone to a lot of trouble here, sir. The message on the counter said time was running out and then the screen lit up
and I saw the body.”
“And the person on the screen is still alive?”
“Yes,” replied Gary, “but his body has been crucified to a wall, and it’s been stitched up and I can see blood, and he was shaking like a shitting dog. If this is a game, it’s a sick one.”
Cragg sighed, then grew silent.
Chapter Eight
Detective Sergeant Sean Reilly aimed the car down Horsemarket Road, and then onto Spital Street. On the right they passed a car park in front of a church, and on the left a group of shops and pubs. He brought the vehicle to a halt in front of another squad car parked at The Shambles.
Detective Inspector Stewart Gardener jumped out of the passenger seat and closed the car door. From what he’d seen so far, despite the early hour, the town was picturesque: quaint streets and rustic shops.
The scene that greeted him did not fit into any of those categories.
There were four people waiting for him, three police officers and one civilian, standing in front of a small hardware shop with a light on.
Gardener withdrew his warrant card as Reilly came to stand next to him.
“DI Gardener and DS Reilly, Major Crime Team. Which one of you is Gary Close?”
“I am, sir,” replied the young PC. As he walked towards Gardener and extended his right hand, the detective couldn’t help but notice his limp.
“Have you just done that?”
“No, sir. Broke my leg about three months ago, playing football.”
“Nasty,” said Reilly, glancing around.
“You’re the attending officer, Gary? What time did you arrive?”
“About three-thirty.”
“Was there anyone else here at that time?”
“Only this man.” Gary pointed and introduced Richard Jones.
“Why were you outside the shop, or in fact in the town at such an early hour?”
“I work the night shift, sir, at the furniture factory outside the town.”
“And you were just coming home?”
“That’s right.”
Gardener studied the man, wondering where he’d seen him before.
“Did you see anyone else?”
“No, can’t say I did, but I never do at that time.”
“Did you go into the shop?”
“No, sir.”
As long as Gardener had been on the force, he’d learned to trust his judgment with people. They’d have no trouble with Richard Jones.
