The Silent Boy (Emma McPherson Book 1) by A.J. Flynn (early reader books .txt) 📗

two high points. His large meal before work, and his even larger one after it.

Everybody within hearing range of him knew that they were in for a bad night, because he had overslept and there had been no time to eat.

His face always wore a frown, but the four roast beef sandwiches, wrapped in tin foil, sitting in front of him on the desk, were responsible for an even deeper scowl on his jowled face. He was a man who felt that a meal without potatoes was nothing short of a personal insult.

With a cross gesture, he shoved the stem of his foul-smelling pipe between his thick lips. Everything about him was super sized. His thighs bulged out his pant legs, and he was forced to wear his belt far down below his sizable paunch, giving him a look rather like a penguin.

He picked up the papers in front of him and, after struggling into a more comfortable position, leaned back in his swivel chair, which groaned in protest.

As usual, his comfort was short lived. He read a few lines off the report, then lunged forward, banging his desk with a ham-sized fist.

“Just my damned luck,” he roared. McGill was not a man to keep his feelings tempered. “You know, that stupid bastard had to go and leave behind tire tracks, which means I’ll have to spend the whole damned night wandering around to every overnight gas station and back-woods garage in town.”

Nobody bothered to answer. By now McGill’s tantrums were just another part of the scenery.

“Imagine being stupid enough to do a dumb thing like that, and in this day and age! I guess tomorrow he’ll go up to some beat cop and ask where’s a good place to get tires. In the meantime, I got to wear my feet down to the ankles wandering all over town.”

There was still no reply, so he lifted one of the sandwiches, peeled off the foil and took a huge bite. The bite was so big that he took almost half of it off in one go and was chewing steadily when McPherson came in.

It was now after eleven and the lieutenant was exhausted, but she knew from years of experience that she would have to wait until the sandwich was finished before she could even attempt communication with McGill.

She sank into a nearby chair with a sigh and put her feet up. Once comfortably settled, she sat quietly, watching McGill feed himself.

Irritating as he was, McPherson had to admit that McGill was one of the most hard-working and trustworthy officers on the force. He’d bitch and moan until he was dead, but you always knew that if McGill told you something was done, it was done. He prided himself on not having had a sentimental thought for the last ten years, but McPherson knew that the man had a soft spot for children, and the task of finding a child-killer was sure to gain his co-operation. That was something one police officer could appreciate in another, whether they liked him personally or not.

McPherson waited, while McGill’s heavy jaws demolished the remainder of the sandwich. When he’d finally gulped the last of it, McGill asked in an almost casual tone:

“They mess the kid up much?”

“No. Looks more like someone wanted to keep him quiet, and went too far.”

“Yeah well, he’s just as dead.” McGill’s eyes were cold.

“No argument there,” McPherson agreed.

“I suppose you think I’m looking to wag my tail all over town, questioning the owners of all-night gas stations?”

“From the little we found, I can’t say there’s much else to do.”

“What about the folks you talked to? Were any of them acting suspicious?”

“Only Valentine. He’s frightened…too frightened. The man looked like he was about to wet his pants.”

“I’ll look him up.” McGill lifted his heavy body from the chair and continued, “Well, if I have to hang around garages, I might as well get started. What about out of town? Have you called up the state department?”

“No. I haven’t had the time yet.”

“Well, I’ll take care of it. I suppose you’re ready to get out of here?”

McPherson suppressed a smile. The remark was so typical of McGill. He knew perfectly well that McPherson had been on duty since sunrise, but he couldn’t bring himself just to say, ‘Go on home. I’ll take it from here.’ Instead, he insisted on needling her.

“Yeah, I think I’ll knock off. See you later.”

McGill grunted and turned to grab his coat.

McPherson walked slowly down the stairs to the street and picked up her car at the parking lot next door.

It was no more than a short drive to the big frame rooming house she called home. After she’d parked the car she let herself in through the glass-paneled door and tiptoed carefully up the carpeted stairs. Once in her room, she took off her clothes and quietly crawled into bed. Then, with the relative ease of long experience, she put the day’s problems out of her mind and thought about Liam and their future. A few minutes later she was sound asleep.

VI

Robb Johnson paused in the run-down vestibule and glanced up and down the street. He’d told himself hundreds of times that he didn’t care if he was seen, and that whatever he did was his own business, but he had never gotten over the habit of making a quick exit.

The girl had been like all the others. Not too pretty and not too clean. He had long since given up looking for intelligence in a woman. According to him, the only smart thing a woman could do was hold out until a man was hot enough to marry her, and Lord knew he was one of the billions throughout history that had fallen into that trap.

Sometimes, if he had the time and was sober enough, he would wonder why he stayed with Claire, considering his great distaste for her.

When he’d first met her, the kind of remote untouchability about her