Time to Die

Ethan’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he glanced at the screen. ‘Sorry, I have to take this. I’ll catch up with you soon.’ He turned on his heel and left.

Will locked the screen on his computer and rose to leave.

‘Where are you going?’ she asked, looking at her watch.

‘The toilet. Now why don’t you put the kettle on while I shake hands with the old chap?’

Je

‘Is that the kettle going on?’ Zoe said. ‘You couldn’t make me a herbal tea, could you? I haven’t stopped this morning … talk about hitting the ground ru

Je

‘You’d be surprised what herbs can do,’ Zoe winked, tugging open the top button of her shirt. ‘The DI is looking very smart today, does he always dress like he’s going to the Academy Awards?’

Je

‘Well he’s outside, deep in conversation with Will, maybe he’s letting him in on the secret.’

‘Maybe,’ Je

‘Zoe,’ Je

Zoe clicked her mouse, suddenly becoming very interested in her emails. ‘Really? I don’t remember.’

‘Well it’s kinda bothered me. I had some encounters before Christmas with an entity, but it didn’t go that far. The thing is, I can’t remember very much about what happened. Can you take a look, see if you pick up anything?’

Zoe’s eyes flickered to Je

‘Really? Oh sorry, I must have misunderstood,’ Je

Chapter Eight

Will straightened his jacket as he walked out into the sunshine, relieved to see Ethan still talking on his phone. He caught a glimpse of him and ended the call.

‘Sorry … er, guv, but have you got a minute?’ Will said, squinting against the sudden glare of the sun.

Ethan cracked a smile. ‘You don’t want to call me guv any more than I want to hear it. I’ve told you before. First name terms are fine. Now what can I do for you?’

‘It’s about Je

Ethan nodded. ‘Sure. Walk with me.’

They crossed the rear yard as Will measured his words. ‘I’m a bit worried about this investigation Je

Ethan clamped a hand on Will’s shoulder; making him wish he had more of the tall gene. ‘I understand your concerns but, as I said before, Je

Will balled his hands in his pockets. ‘I know that, but aren’t you worried it’s a bit soon?’

‘Frankly no, and you should give her more credit. I’ve been working with people like Je

I bet you do, you cheesy bastard, Will thought, as he politely bade his inspector goodbye. Will had played down the importance of the letter to Je

From an early age, Charlie Sutton’s parents were hoisting him into buildings and through cat flaps to assist with their burglaries. But his career as a cat burglar was short-lived as he hit his teens and grew into a sturdy block of a boy. Luckily for Charlie, there were several younger brothers willing to step into the role. Will rapped on the frosted glass door of the two-storey home, and the family’s Stafford Bull Terriers clawed against the inside of the glass, smudging it with an array of brown paw prints.

‘Shat uuuuuuppp! Rocky! Spike! Shaaat upppp!’ Ma Sutton’s voice thundered from inside, her considerable bulk shadowing the glass as she opened the door. ‘What do you want?’ she said, struggling to keep hold of the dogs’ thick black studded collars as their paws padded the air.

Will flashed his warrant card, his eyes on the dogs’ bared teeth as they fought for release. ‘I want a word with Charlie. He’s not in any trouble.’

A formidable woman, Ma Sutton flicked her beady eyes upstairs and back to Will. ‘It’s the filth,’ she shouted in the direction of the stairs. Footsteps scurried across the landing, like a nest of rats being poked with a stick.

Ma Sutton reluctantly allowed him inside, shoving the barking animals into a side room. ‘He’s in the kitchen,’ she sniffed. ‘And don’t go snooping around or I’ll have the dogs on ya.’

Will put his hands in the air in a gesture of defeat, and gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He squeezed past the bikes in the hall, their handlebars ripping into what was left of the wallpaper. A mixture of aromas greeted him and the windows steamed from the meat boiling on a gas cooker. It intermingled with the stench of oil from the remnants of a motorbike engine on the newspaper-clad kitchen table.

Charlie fingered the metal parts with thick greasy hands. ‘See here, dad?’ he said, poking at a cog. ‘It’s loose, that’s what’s wrong.’

Charlie’s father rarely spoke. He just sat there with a dour expression, pinching tobacco into the thin cigarette papers with a well-practised hand.

‘Will-I-am. What are you doing here?’ Charlie said, staining his sweat-glistened forehead as he wiped it with the back of his hand. He swivelled in his chair, elbowing the small boy at the side of him. ‘Alfie, open the back door, it’s fucking boiling in here.’

Alfie scuttled from behind Charlie, and giving Will a cautious glance, opened the back door wide. A welcome gust of air blew in, scooping up the overpowering smells of bacon and oil and carrying them outside.

It was a short-lived respite as Charlie’s father stood up and, his eyes never leaving Will, slammed the door shut and locked it.

Will’s throat suddenly felt very dry and he swallowed hard. Mr Sutton was very protective of his family, and had assaulted officers previously with little warning.