Scream Blue Murder

by Linda Coles

  His phone chirped with an incoming text.

  Still on for dinner? VV

  Jack smiled at his phone as he typed his reply. He must ask Vivian why she always signed off with VV, since her surname didn’t start with V.

  You bet. Come for 7pm. It’s coq au vin.

  Tres bon! Je vais apporter du vin.

  Excellent. Au revoir.

  Vivian. It was good to have the friendship of a female companion again, and though his Janine would always be in his heart, Vivian brought a warmth to him he hadn’t realised he had been missing. She was also quite clever at French, and he looked forward to sharing some of Mrs Stewart’s chicken casserole with her; she made it just the way he liked it, with half a bottle of wine in it.

  Jack placed his phone on the desk in front of him and turned his chair so he could see out of the window. The sky was filled with thickening grey clouds that looked like cotton wool balls that had been soaked in dirty water. The sombre weather matched the sombre day, and his mind changed tack to Amanda and Ruth—the only other women in his life. Ruth had been charged with assisting an offender, but with the critical information that she had provided on the other two cases, she was unlikely to see any of the three- to ten-year jail term the offence carried. He hoped a suspended sentence would be it.

  Gordon Simpson had of course been allowed to walk free; all charges against him had been dropped. Nobody could say for sure how the cufflink had ended up in the soil; maybe Madeline herself had found it and it had fallen into the hole accidentally that day. They’d never know for sure. After Gordon’s initial shock at the truth, he’d decided to take a break from work, giving himself some time to digest what the woman whom he’d known since childhood almost, had shared a bed with for so many years, had done. And his daughter had kept secret.

  Jack knew that disappointment didn’t come close to what Gordon felt. “You think you know someone, but really—do you?”

  “Talking to yourself again, Jack?” said Raj as he balanced on the corner of Jack’s desk, mug of tea in his hand. He carried an air of despondency, like the others in the room.

  “It’s the only way to get any sense around here,” Jack said, smiling.

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  Three months later

  Jack and Howard King stood waiting by the prison gates, like a scene from the Blues Brothers movie. In his head, Jack was running through the words of one of his favourite ELO songs, “Last Train to London.” It had been playing in the car on the way in, and on the night he’d first bought Vivian a drink at the Baskerville pub. As it turned out, that particular situation was bubbling along nicely for Jack. He had wanted that night to last forever, of course, but since there had been many more, he was happy enough. She was now filling her daytime hours with the new support group she’d started.

  Howard nudged Jack as the doors opened and a slightly built man exited through them. He didn’t appear to be in any rush, and both men watched as Michael Hardesty ambled slowly toward them, drinking in the lunchtime autumn sunshine on his face as he moved, a small bag of belongings in one hand. By the time he’d reached his welcoming committee, he wore an exuberant grin from ear to ear.

  “Tell me I’m not dreaming,” he said, a slight tinge of worry in his voice.

  “You’re a free man, Michael, and no one can take that away from you now,” Jack assured him, returning a smile matching Hardesty’s in size. “Have you decided where you want to go first?”

  Michael looked at the bunch of notes in his hand, all £46 of it. “It’s not a great deal they give you, is it?” he said.

  “Enough for a pint and a bag of fish and chips,” Jack said brightly. As a man released from prison, even though he had been wrongly convicted in the first place, £46 was all Hardesty was entitled to. Not even an apology. He’d have been better off waiting until the end of his sentence in many respects; at least he’d have been entitled to support, or got a halfway house provided to him for a while. But who would want to hang around in prison when they didn’t need to? Not Michael.

  “And I’ll buy,” added Jack. Hardesty’s bit of money had to last him until benefits could be sorted out, and that could be some weeks away.

  “I had hoped Barbara and Cassy might have been here,” he said solemnly, as the three of them headed slowly over to Jack’s car. Both Jack and Howard King were keenly aware of the man’s physical limitations. Prison time hadn’t been good to him, and his strength was failing him. “But I guess they didn’t get the memo, eh?”

  There was nothing for Jack or Howard to say to that. Both women had moved on many years ago, not wanting the family name to bring either of them further trouble. Jack had done his best to trace them both, and had found Barbara. She had remarried, however, and didn’t think it right to contact Hardesty again. ‘It was for the best,’ Barbara had told Jack in a letter, but Michael’s disappointment was obvious.

  “I’ll get the first round in,” offered Howard as they climbed into Jack’s car. “You save your money.”

  Jack started the engine and they set off out of the prison grounds.

  “What are you looking forward to doing with your new freedom?” Jack asked over his shoulder.

  “As odd as it sounds, I’m looking forward to making my own decisions again. The small ones, like when to turn the light off at night and when I’ll eat my breakfast. Do you know, I’ve not turned a light switch off in fifteen years? Or watered a plant.”

  Jack turned to the frail-looking man beside him; his grey, pasty face was starting to change slightly to pink as his excitement increased. It was the best feeling in the world to see the man with hope in his eyes. Jack reached for his phone and his playlist, tapping the start icon. ELO ticked over in the background, carrying on from where it had been when they’d arrived at the prison. He hummed along as they drove, and Michael wound the passenger window down to sniff the air like a dog riding in a car along a country lane.

  In fact, the whole story had started in a leafy country lane.

  “Turn it up, Jack, would you? I feel like singing,” Hardesty said, sounding stronger with each word as he joined in with the lyrics he knew. Jack obliged and turned the volume up as high as it would go. He wound his own window down, and Howard, in the back, followed suit. With his long grey ponytail getting caught in the wash, he looked like an old rocker, as Jack’s car headed towards first the chip shop then the Baskerville pub for Michael’s first pint in fifteen years.

  “I’ll think I’ll head into London afterwards,” Hardesty announced. “On the train maybe.” He fell silent again for a moment, listening to the words in the song, and then the three men picked up the chorus and sang like a trio of out-of-tune geriatrics on a coach day trip to Brighton.

  The last train to London, Jack pondered. Where would Hardesty go after that?

  He had sod all.

  But he did have his freedom.

  Acknowledgments

  This book is a work of fiction, though some physical places are indeed real. The characters however are most definitely a figment of my imagination.

  I’d like to thank Graham Bartlett, a police procedural advisor who makes sure the correct process is followed when it comes to the technical stuff. That said, any variation from procedure is for creative purposes because in reality some tests take weeks to get the results back from. That would mess with the story timelines too much and we’d be all day waiting.

  Thanks to Dr. Ben Swift who is the easiest forensic pathologist to work with in the whole wide world, along with Dame Sue Black, professor of anatomy and forensic anthropologist. Thanks to you both for your tissue and skeletal advice in keeping it real.

  And thanks to Sarah Waters, and her help with the legal beagle.

  And thanks to you, the reader because if you didn’t buy my books, there would be little point me writing any more.

  And last but not least, hubby Paul, for your enthusiasm, constant support and ideas.

  Also by Linda Coles

&nb
sp; Jack Rutherford and Amanda Lacey Series:

  The Controller

  Hot to Kill

  The Hunted

  Dark Service

  One Last Hit

  Hey You, Pretty Face

  Chrissy Livingstone Series:

  Tin Men

  About the Author

  Hi, I’m Linda Coles. Thanks for choosing this book, I really hope you enjoyed it and collect the following ones in the series. Great characters make a great read and I hope I’ve managed to create that for you.

  Originally from the UK, I now live and work in beautiful New Zealand along with my hubby, 2 cats and 6 goats. My office sits by the edge of my vegetable garden, my very favourite authors are Harlan Coben and Michael Robotham and apart from reading and writing, I get to run by the beach for pleasure.

  If you find a moment, please do write an honest online review, they really do make such a difference to those choosing what book to buy next.

  And it you’d like to join my newsletter, fill out your name and email address at the bottom of the home page on my website.

  Enjoy! And tell your friends.

  Thanks, Linda