Time To Play by KA Richardson (best book club books of all time TXT) 📗

Sunderland Royal.’ Nigel’s voice was efficient and to the point as he addressed Ali.

‘Initial thoughts, Nigel?’

‘Looks to me like he’s been gnawed on by something, possibly rodents of some kind. He has some bruising and lacerations consistent with being beaten, but I’d hazard a guess he bled out from the neck wound. We’ll know more after the PM.’

Ali turned and made his way back over to Charlie who was stood talking to Deena, one of the CSIs.

‘Hey, Deena. Anything to tell me?’

‘No, not really. I’ve seized the plastic sheeting he was dumped in. Chemical lab might get some prints off the plastic itself. Couldn’t really touch the body ’til Nigel had been so nothing there yet, but Kev, Johnny and Faith are doing the PM later. You gunna be there?’

‘Aye, I’ll try to make it over. Just while I’ve got you, anything come back yet from the wee lassie we found over Washington? There wasn’t much to work with I know. We haven’t even managed to come up with an ID as yet.’

‘No. To be honest, the samples I recovered at the scene were all general debris stuff, I doubt very much it’ll come to anything. More than likely it was just from people walking along the river.’

‘Bummer. I’ve copied you in on the email regarding the strategy meeting, haven’t I?’

‘Honestly couldn’t tell you, Ali. Haven’t had time to scratch my backside today, let alone read any emails. This is my second job already, I had a list of about ten to head out with when this came in. I’ve got staff drafted in from the Volume Crime Team dealing with a spate of theft from vehicles over Silksworth; some little scrote’s been on an allotment rampage in Houghton that Kevin’s gone out to, and Cass is on her way here after being summoned in the early hours and dealing with a rape case.’

‘Christ, talk about one of those days. It’s not ’til next week anyway, so no rush.’

Deena nodded and headed back to the CSI van that was parked out on the main street. Glancing around the area, he noted that the alley was to the back of an Aldi store. Limited chance he was sure, but it was possible they had CCTV. He made a mental note to have that checked into.

There was CCTV all over the city centre, though to be fair, quite often at any given time probably at least half of them were offline. The council just didn’t have the funds to adequately maintain every camera and street light in the city. So, they let them lapse and kept up on the ones that covered the main trouble spots.

He knew there were already a number of officers involved in the house-to-house enquiries. But it was doubtful that anyone would come forward. The area wasn’t known for its high-class, law-abiding citizens. Still, you never grew an oak tree without planting a few acorns: he’d just have to wait and see what the enquiries came up with.

Ali already had a gut feeling though, the rats, the beating, the cut neck – it all pointed to Daniel Burton being involved in something or other, possibly even linked to the drug offences Harry had mentioned. Organised crime? He didn’t know anything for sure.

Opening the car door, he pulled a fresh Policy Book from the glovebox and started writing. His notes at this stage could be vital. The book recorded the errant thoughts he might forget or misplace later, and he quickly made a bullet point ‘to do’ list.

It was gunna be another long day.

Connor’s Parents’ House, Sunderland – 9 November

Connor pushed open the front door with a groan. He could already hear the screaming from the street: his mother was on one, again. He heard his dad bellow from the kitchen, and then the sound of glass breaking. He found himself running towards the kitchen door with dread.

As he entered, he saw his mother with a knife in her hand, her arm raised as she ran at his father. What the fuck?

‘Mum! Stop it, what the hell are you doing?’

Running forward he grabbed hold of his mother’s arm as she motioned towards his dad’s face, which was as white as a sheet, his eyes bulging outwards, the vein in his right temple pulsing rapidly with his heartbeat.

‘Dad, get in the other room. Mum, stop fighting against me! What the hell do you think you are doing?’

His voice sounded harsh even to his ears. All his police training flew out of the window. This was his mum, dammit. He’d never thought he’d see the day when his own mother would go for his dad with a knife. Thank God I’m here. If I hadn’t been, I don’t know what would have happened.

He felt his mum struggle against his grip, reminding him that she still had hold of the knife. ‘Let it go, Mum. Drop it, now.’ He tried his best to keep his voice calm, but he was panicking. If he hadn’t turned up when he did, his mum would have buried the knife deep into his dad’s back.

Finally, he heard a clunk as his mum dropped the knife on the floor.

‘There’s my boy,’ she said with a smile, her mind suddenly popping back into the present from wherever it had been. ‘Would you like a sandwich?’

Connor shook his head. How could she do that? Jump from being a violent psychopath one minute to being his mum? He didn’t get it. It didn’t matter how much research he did on Alzheimer’s, how much he understood the basics. He’d never be able to grasp the severity of her changes.

Gentler now, he guided her into the living room, and positioned her in the seat by the window. Once she was settled, he turned back towards his father.

‘Dad—’

‘Don’t say it, son. She’s not