Death's Cold Hand by J.E. Mayhew (kiss me liar novel english txt) 📗

helped them come to an understanding of sorts. The monster cat had even taken Charlie under her wing, the two becoming partners in crime. Blake had to admit that he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he lost her now. He’d lost his beloved Opel Manta up in Scotland, but that merely had sentimental value, being his father’s old car. Serafina was family.

It was getting light outside now and Blake’s mouth felt furry and rough. He needed food, drink and a shower. A change of clothes would probably be in order too. The vet stepped out into the waiting room and Blake leapt to his feet. “Any news?”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry Mr Blake. It’s still touch and go but we can call you if there’s any development. You can’t sit here all day…”

“I know, I know. Look. Here’s my card. If you need to make any sudden decisions and can’t get hold of me, just do them anyway. Whatever it costs. I don’t care. Okay? Just do it. I don’t want to lose her.”

The vet nodded and rubbed Blake’s arm. “We’ll do everything we can.”

*****

Even though he’d gone home to wash, change and look after Charlie before heading to HQ, Blake felt haggard and stiff as he stood in the Major Incident Room. It was clear that his team had noticed, too. “Are you okay, sir? You look as rough as a robber’s dog,” Kath said, peering at him.

“Thanks, Kath, your concern is duly noted,” Blake said with as much good humour as he could muster. “Just a bit of cat trouble. Spent all night at the vets.”

“Serafina, boss? Is she okay?”

“We’ll see. She’s sedated at the vets.” He shook himself. “What have we got? Any developments?”

“Still no sign of Terry White, sir,” Vikki Chinn said. “But a punter did come forward yesterday saying he saw a big man in overalls getting into a blue Ford Transit van just by the Thornton Hough Roundabout. The timing would fit with Terry White fleeing the area. We’re checking CCTV.”

“Good work. It might lead somewhere. I just hope that whoever picked him up is safe, that’s all.”

Kath raised her hand. “Nicola Norton sent us a list of haunts that Terry talked about. Places he went as a child, favourite pubs he talked about. Uniform are looking around them just in case.”

Alex Manikas gave an embarrassed cough. “I don’t know if it affects the case, sir but there’s a lot of noise on social media about this rally tomorrow. Far-right groups are talking about coming to Port Sunlight tomorrow and there’s chatter at the other end of the political spectrum about stopping them. It could end up in trouble.”

“It’s going to pull numbers away from searching for Terry White,” Blake muttered. “If uniform are having to focus on crowd control, there won’t be as many people to help us. I’ve put a guard on Barry Davies, Dave Jones and George Owens on Nicola Norton’s advice.”

Kath looked puzzled. “Why just them, sir?”

“Norton thinks they’re particularly vulnerable because they’re prominent members of Pro-Vets and were good friends with Travis…”

“But Norton had a lot of contact with Terry White, sir,” Kath said. “She could be at risk, too, surely.”

“Apparently, Terry White’s problem is rooted in a problem with facial recognition, especially amongst men. She doesn’t think she’s in any danger. What about White’s family?”

“His mum lives in Wallasey but doesn’t have much to do with him, sir. We’ve got a car outside her house but I get the impression she’d call us if he showed up,” Vikki said. “Sad really. Imagine your own mother being afraid of you.”

“Sad? The man’s killed three people, Vikki,” Kath Cryer said.

“Yeah, Ma’am,” Vikki said, “I know that but when he joined the army, he didn’t imagine it would change him so much. And to be trapped in a paranoid world like that. It must be awful.”

“You’re right, Vikki,” Blake said. “I think it’s fair to remind ourselves that whilst White has committed some serious crimes, and as dangerous as he is, he’s a sick man. He needs our help. Which makes finding him doubly urgent.”

*****

The blue and white police tape crisscrossed over the doorway of Terry’s flat gave Noel pause for thought. What had Terry done? Not for the first time, Noel wished he listened to the news a bit more closely. He spent most of his time stoned, reliving his wild youth and listening to seventies rock bands. Whatever they wanted the lad for, he’d promised Terry he’d get the medication for him and the poor lad was suffering. He had to act fast, though, that tape hadn’t been up long, maybe a couple of days at the most. This place could be crawling with coppers at any minute.

He approached the door and inspected it closely. If the police had been in, it could have been forced and a new lock put on, so the keys Terry had given him might be useless. On the other hand, if the police had the cooperation of the landlord, then they wouldn’t have had to crash the door. It was a housing association property, so Noel reckoned they’d cooperate fully.

The old man had a lifetime’s experience of breaking and entering but he was glad just to use the keys. Rummaging in his pockets, Noel was rewarded with the smoothness of a pair of latex gloves. Although he wasn’t very active these days, he always kept a pair in case the opportunity to nick something presented itself on a plate. He pulled the gloves on with a theatrical snap and pushed the key into the lock. The door swung open and, smiling, he ducked under the tape.

Noel’s heart thumped as he scanned the small flat. He was getting too old for this and turning over a crime scene wasn’t a clever idea at any age. There was a good chance that the tablets would have been removed, especially if they were needed for evidence of some kind. Terry had said that