Web of Lies by Sally Rigby (classic novels for teens txt) 📗

believe that she could be so reckless as to allow Clifford to put his life at risk.

‘Okay, but stay where you are, I don’t want you making any moves without me.’

‘I won’t, I promise.’

He ended the call.

‘What’s that all about?’ Sarge said.

Twiggy hadn’t seen the officer come up behind him.

‘The men who attacked Clifford are after him again. Birdie saw them parked near the house he’s staying at and she thinks they might be inside waiting for him. It’s possible that these men murdered Witherspoon. At least, that’s what Birdie and Clifford believe. Birdie’s waiting for me. These men are dangerous and could be armed.’

‘You go to Birdie, and I’ll bring backup. I’ll let the DI know what’s going down and get his permission to use firearms and Tasers before signing them out. He’s at the Wigston station all day, but he’ll no doubt come straight here, as he’ll be senior investigating officer. Don’t do anything until we get to you.’

‘Yes, Sarge.’ Twiggy grabbed his jacket, hurried out to the car park and drove as fast as he could.

Chapter 40

20 May

Seb stuck his key in the lock, while scanning the street to see if he could see the car that had been following him. It wasn’t there. He must have been mistaken. He opened the door and went inside, expecting Elsa to come and greet him, as she usually did. But she didn’t

‘Elsa,’ he called, his heart pounding in his chest. ‘Where are you?’

His eyes were drawn to what looked like a half-eaten lump of steak on the floor. He bent down to check and gasped. There were grains of white powder on it.

Had Dunkley and his mate got inside and drugged her?

If they’d harmed so much as one hair on her head, then so help him, they wouldn’t live to tell the tale.

He grabbed hold of a large china figurine of a 1920s woman, which was situated on the hall table, and headed down the corridor. Lying just inside the kitchen door on the floor was Elsa. He bent down and felt her pulse.

It was steady.

She was alive.

He let out the pent-up breath he’d been holding. It must have been a sedative. Thank God.

Where the hell were the bastards?

If they weren’t in the kitchen they had to be hiding somewhere.

He wasn’t going to search for them because that could put him on the back foot. He’d wait for them to come to him. It gave him more of an advantage.

He needed a more effective weapon than an ornament. Not a knife. That would mean getting up close to them. He remembered the walking stick in a bucket by the back door and grabbed it.

He pulled the phone out of his pocket, hit the record button, and then replaced it. Whatever happened, he wanted to make sure that Dunkley would be caught.

He stood stationary in the middle of the room.

Waiting.

The only sounds were his ragged breaths.

He was about to move, when footsteps pounded on the wooden floor in the hall.

His grip tightened around the stick and he sucked in a breath.

Two men burst into the kitchen, narrowly avoiding Elsa. No hoodies this time. He could see as clear as day that one of them was Dunkley.

‘Don’t you ever learn your lesson? You were warned to keep away,’ Dunkley said. ‘And did you? No. Well, now you’re gonna regret it.’

‘What warning?’ Seb said. ‘You beat me up, without saying a thing. What was I being warned about?’

‘Don’t play dumb with me. You couldn’t leave her alone, could you? You’re going to pay for that, make no mistake.’

‘What are you going to do about it?’ Seb said, standing his full six feet six inches and staring down at the pair of them.

‘What are you going to do about it? Old bean.’ The guy with Dunkley, who was stockier and shorter than his colleague, said imitating Seb’s voice.

Normally, Seb could take on the pair of them, as he worked out on a regular basis, but he wasn’t fighting fit. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t put up a good fight if he had to. His phone rang.

‘Don’t answer it,’ Dunkley said.

He hadn’t intended to in case they spotted him recording the conversation. He had to get them to admit to the murder.

‘Did Andrea Wood put you up to this?’ He locked eyes with Dunkley. ‘Your old school friend …’

Dunkley stiffened. ‘How do you know?’

‘It doesn’t matter. The fact is, I do. And I’m not the only one. I also know you used to be called Ross Burns. So, whatever you think you can do to me now isn’t going to change that. Did Andrea ask you to attack me and come here today?’

Dunkley, clearly agitated, hopped from foot to foot.

‘She knows nothing about it, so don’t try to frame her.’

‘Why don’t you tell me everything. I know you murdered Witherspoon. You’ve been identified as being in the pub at Foxton Locks on the day he died. Why did you do it?’ Because he was blackmailing Andrea? Were you protecting her? You’ve always had a thing for her, haven’t you?’

‘You know nothing,’ Dunkley snarled.

‘I know you’ve been in love with her since school and she used you to do her dirty work.’

‘You call it dirty work. I call it helping a friend.’

‘A friend who you happen to be in love with. Except she didn’t love you back, did she?’

The lines tightened around the man’s eyes. He’d touched a nerve. ‘I look after her so she ain’t bothered by the likes of you.’

Under her authority?

‘Is Andrea happy with you interfering in her life like this? Because even if she wasn’t physically involved in what you’ve done, you do realise that she’s an accessory and will go down for a long time.’

Fear flashed in his eyes. ‘What I did was my decision and not hers. It’s my job to protect her and I decide how.’

‘Even if that protection involved murdering Donald Witherspoon. Don’t deny it. You’ve been identified and we know you had lunch with him