by Jay Gill
“Colewell’s been formally charged,” I said finally. Rosie winced at the mention of his name. “He’s going away for life. I’ll let you know when the trial starts; I’m guessing you’ll be there?”
She nodded and then sipped her tea thoughtfully. “Prison’s too good for someone like him. Why should he get to live out the rest of his life?”
For a few precious seconds I’d had his life in my hands. There was no way I could ever tell her why I was unable to let him fall; I didn’t know, myself. A part of me agreed completely with what she said: he didn’t deserve to walk this earth while Ceri and Julia couldn’t. Another part of me had known I could never look at Faith, Alice, Monica or Rosie—or myself—ever again with a clear conscience if I had done what every cell in my body had screamed at me to do…
“Perhaps you’re right. There’s no punishment suitable for a monster like Colewell. I wish I could have done more but I’m no judge and jury—I’m just a detective.”
Rosie was about to say something but changed her mind. Instead, she lifted my hand and kissed it. She smiled and said simply, “Thank you, James. You’ve done enough.”
Knife & Death, the first book in the DCI Hardy series is out now. You can get your copy here:
Knife & Death - Amazon
Angels, the second book in the DCI Hardy series is out now. You can get your copy here:
Angels - Amazon
Hard Truth, the third book in the DCI Hardy series is out now. You can get your copy here:
Hard Truth - Amazon
Knife & Death
Knife & Death, is out now.
The DCI James Hardy series continues.
Chapter 1
River Thames, London, England
From their manner you’d never guess the two men were driving to the river with the Albanian’s dead girl in the back of their Mercedes C-Class.
‘I told her that’s how I’ve always made tea. Milk and tea bag in a mug, then pour on the bloody boiling water,’ said Jimmy Kane. ‘You know what Aggie said?’
Chris Perkins shook his head. He couldn’t speak; he was laughing too hard. ‘Nah, go on, tell me.’
‘She said I was “uncouth”. So I asked her, “What does uncouth have to do with making a cup of bloody tea? Do you want a cup or not?”’ The two men were laughing so hard they had tears in their eyes, and Jimmy had to concentrate to drive in a straight line.
‘You know what?’ said Jimmy. ‘She then got all upset with me – yeah, with me. You know how she gets all huffy and puffs out her lips. Saying I was spoiling her Downton Abbey time.’
‘You better watch it, Jimmy. I reckon’ she’ll have you dressed as one those Downton butlers the way she’s going. Sounds like your Aggie is getting herself sophisticated. I hear they call it Downtonitis.’ The two men cracked up again.
Jimmy flicked on the indicator and parked up alongside the river. The two men put on their caps, lifted their collars and got out. Chris looked over the side of the bridge to the cold, black water of the Thames below.
‘High tide. Just like I told you,’ he said proudly.
Jimmy opened the boot of the car and the two men grabbed either end of the plastic sheeting the girl was wrapped in, then carried her to the wall, where they rested for a moment.
Chris checked the time on his phone: 3.25 a.m. ‘It’s my birthday today.’
‘Really? Well, in that case you’re buying breakfast, mate,’ said Jimmy.
The two men rolled the body back and forth and started to sing. ‘Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear whoever you are...’
They rolled the body off the bridge and waited for the splash. ‘...Happy birthday to you!’
That done, they jumped back in the Mercedes and headed off through the early morning streets.
‘So did your Aggie want a cup of tea in the end?’
‘No. In the end she decides she wants coffee. And get this – I got that wrong as well. I made regular coffee but she now drinks decaf. I tell you, things are getting very complicated in my house. I love her to bits; don’t get me wrong. But things are complicated.’
‘Sounds it,’ said Chris sympathetically.
‘Just you wait. Your girl will have you running round in circles soon enough. You mark my words.’
Knife & Death, the first book in the DCI Hardy series is out now. You can get your copy here:
Knife & Death - Amazon
If you would like to be kept up to date with new releases from Jay Gill, please complete an email contact form here, or on his Facebook page or website, www.jaygill.net
Angels
Angels, is out now.
The DCI James Hardy series continues.
Chapter 1
Michael Cutler sat in the front seat of the blue Ford Mondeo, watching the house from across the street. He knew Stephanie Walker’s routine now. Like most of us, her routine deviated little from week to week.
After she arrived home from work at 6.15 p.m., Cutler knew she would be home alone all evening. Outside, it was dark, and the heavy rain fell like nails on the roof of the car.
He felt pleased with himself as he followed her now memorised routine. On go the lights. First the hall; then the kitchen; then the front room. There she is, pulling the curtains. Now back to the kitchen for a few minutes. Okay, now upstairs for a bath. A thirty-minute soak in the bath while the dinner’s in the oven. On go the upstairs lights: first the bedroom; tick. Now the bathroom; tick.
Cutler closed his eyes in an almost spiritual moment of contemplation. His mind was clear and focused. His heart was racing and he could feel an energy surging through his body. He could almost picture how it would be. He tingled with excitement. The anticipation was almost overwhelming.
Of course, he had doubts. This wasn’t something you did by choice. For a fleeting moment, he was afraid again that something might go wrong. Apprehension was natural, he supposed; he was only human, after all. Somehow, though, everything felt right. Like it was meant to be. He knew she was the one. That was why their paths had crossed. Yes, and for that very reason alone, he felt in his heart of hearts, he knew everything would be A-okay.
Tonight was the night. He’d invested a lot of time in Stephanie and now was the time to realise the fruits of his labour. Plus, with all the other shit he was putting up with right now, it was time again for him to take something for himself.
He checked his watch again. She should be finishing dinner very soon. Give it two more minutes. His breathing became heavier and more rapid. In a good way, the anticipation was almost too much to bear. He was ready.
Time to go. It’ll be just like the others. You’ve got this. You’ve planned it. Nothing can go wrong. How could it? Don’t hesitate. Commit. Be the man. Take control. It’s now or never.
Head down, he crossed the road. The rain lashed down and thunder crashed overhead. In the distance a car alarm started. A dog barked. It was a dark, hellish night. Everything was perfect; he was really doing this.
He was at Stephanie’s front door. He wiped his face with a tissue; he wanted to see her. How long had he waited for this moment? He knocked and rang the doorbell. Wait. Wait. Be cool. You’ve got this, buddy boy. He could hear her opening the door. The sound of the chain. Here we go. Game face. He made one last mental check: Camera; handcuffs; scalpel. Tick, tick, tick.
With the chain still on, the door opened. That’s okay. Good girl, you never know who might be on the other side. He liked that one; it always made him chuckle.
She peered through the gap. ‘Hello?’
There she is at long last. There’s my sweet Stephanie. Looking so beautiful. The face of my sweet, sweet angel.
Look friendly and like you belong in the uniform.
‘Good evening. Sorry to bother you. I’m Police Sergeant Lamb.’ He held up his fake warrant card while once again wiping the rain away from his face with a tissue. That always worked well. She couldn’t help but be sympathetic. He pulled up his col
lar to indicate he was cold and wet.
‘Good evening, Sergeant.’ Bingo – off comes the chain, and there she is in all her glory. Door wide open. She looks majestic, so inviting. All wrapped up in her towelling dressing gown. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Sorry to bother you, miss. As I said, I’m Sergeant Lamb. Sadly, there has been an aggravated burglary of an elderly and vulnerable resident in the next street. Number twenty-seven. Mrs Jenkins – you may know her? She’s in her nineties. I’m speaking to neighbours and local residents to see if they can help with our enquiries. We really need to catch the person responsible before he strikes again. I just need to ask a few questions.’ He wiped his face again. ‘Gosh, this rain tonight. I can barely hear myself think. Would you mind if I stepped inside? I won’t keep you long, I promise.’
Keep holding up the warrant card. Big smile. Look like you’re cold. Here we go, we’re in. As easy as that.
He could see it in her eyes before she’d even stepped aside to let him in.
While she shut the door behind them, he felt in his pocket for the scalpel. Be patient: we don’t want to start this in the hallway. Soon enough she’ll invite you to her kitchen or dining room or lounge. Which will it be?
‘I was just about to make coffee, Sergeant. Would you like a tea or coffee?’
‘I don’t want you to go to any trouble, though that would lovely. It’s so cold tonight. A white coffee, one sugar, would be most welcome.’ She really is perfect. She will be the best yet. What a rush. There won’t be time for coffee, but how considerate of her.
‘My pleasure, Sergeant Lamb.’
‘I didn’t catch your name. Mrs—?’
‘I’m not married. My name’s Stephanie Walker.’ She smiled sweetly and tucked a strand of her dark, shoulder-length hair behind her ear. ‘Why don’t you take a seat in the lounge and I’ll make us both a hot drink?’
Sergeant Lamb. I think she likes a man in uniform. Did you see that? She looked to see whether you had a wedding ring on. Well, that’s inappropriate under the circumstances.
‘Stephanie, just one thing before you go.’
He stepped up close, too close. He held her arm. In her face he could see that same look of surprise and confusion they all gave him. She suddenly felt vulnerable, a little scared. Yet she knew she shouldn’t feel scared, not with a police officer. He showed her the scalpel blade, then put it to her soft and slender throat.
‘If you do exactly what I say, you’ll be fine,’ he lied. ‘Let’s go upstairs.’
Angels, the second book in the DCI Hardy series is out now. You can get your copy here:
Angels - Amazon
If you would like to be kept up to date with new releases from Jay Gill, please complete an email contact form here, or on his Facebook page or website, www.jaygill.net
Hard Truth
Hard Truth, is out now.
The DCI James Hardy series continues.
Chapter 1
Kelly Lyle swam a final length of the pool and climbed out. It was late evening, and the heat from the Italian sun felt exhilarating on her naked body.
The villa, with its mountainous backdrop, overlooked Lake Garda. Lyle stood for a moment to take in the warmth of the evening and gaze down at the shimmering lake. The scent of lemon carried on the fresh mountain air. This was currently her favourite retreat. As well as its beauty it had many benefits, not least of which was its seclusion.
Leaving her robe and shoes on a recliner, Lyle crossed the warm tiles and entered the rear of the house through large sliding doors.
Scooping crushed ice into a chilled glass, she added gin and tonic. Sipping her drink, she sat for a while watching Carlo as he slept. Lyle let her eyes wander over his firm, tanned body. She smiled at the thought of their many evenings together.
His conversation was interesting and the food he’d cooked her had always been exceptional. He was also a very thoughtful and attentive lover.
It was a shame their time together had to end so abruptly, but it was important she return to England and get her plans underway.
Drink in hand, Lyle walked over to the sleeping Carlo. Drugged, gagged and bound to a dining chair, his body slumped forward. Lyle lifted his head and kissed his eyes.
“Carlo. Carlo, my prince, it’s time to wake up.”
Lyle took some ice from her glass and ran it over his broad, tanned shoulders. “Sveglia, sveglia, sorgi e splendi!” she said. “Wakey, wakey, Carlo.”
Carlo opened one eye and then the other.
“There you are,” Lyle said. “Welcome back to the land of the living.” She chuckled at her little joke.
Puzzled, he looked around wildly. His foggy mind was trying to figure out what was happening. He tried to move. He tried to speak. He started to rock back and forth, almost toppling over in the process. His eyes widened further, and his face grew fierce with anger.
Lyle poured herself another gin and tonic to give Carlo a moment to simmer down and accept his predicament. “I am sure you have lots of questions, and I wish I had more time to go into all the details of why this is happening to you, but the truth is, I don’t. I have a flight booked to England first thing in the morning, and between now and then there is a lot that must be done. So, forgive me if I gloss over the niceties. What I will say is that, despite how this is going to end for you, I’ve had a lovely time. I think it’s important you understand that what’s coming next isn’t about you. It’s about me. Although, in reality, I’m sure that offers little comfort.”
Carlo watched as Lyle pushed a hostess trolley up in front of him. On the bottom shelf sat a few marble coasters, some napkins, a roll of cling film, an ice bucket and a pair of silver tongs. It was the top shelf that caused him to strain at his ties. From behind the gag he let out a long, pitiful moan. His pleading eyes were met with a coldness he hadn’t seen in her before. Fingers that had once caressed him now danced over a range of glistening surgical tools.
With a look that suggested the choice was of vital importance, Lyle said, “Perfect. This will do.”
She held up a surgical scalpel. Carlo pressed himself back in the chair. Lyle started to smile as she showed him the scalpel.
“This? This is just my little joke. You’re so jittery. I’m not going to use this on you, Carlo.”
With a flourish, she lifted a napkin off a lime and said, “This is for the lime. A gin and tonic just isn’t the same without lime, wouldn’t you agree?”
Carlo attempted a smile. Perhaps, this was all just a sick prank. Maybe he would be okay after all.
“Carlo, look at me.” Lyle snapped her fingers. “None of these are for you. I don’t have time for blood and body parts scattered here and there. Do you understand?”
Carlo nodded.
Lyle said, “All that would mean a lot of cleaning up. I’ve told you, I’m on a tight schedule. For that reason, I intend something far less messy for me, and you’ll be pleased to know it means next to no discomfort for you.” Lyle reached into the ice bucket and took out an ice pick.
Carlo started to scream.
Lyle stepped close and, after a brief hesitation – she was undecided as to which eye to stab – she changed her mind entirely and plunged the ice pick through Carlo’s temple and deep into his brain. She quickly wrapped his head in kitchen cling film, ensuring his nose and mouth were covered.
“There; we’re done.”
Lyle kissed Carlo’s broad shoulders and ran her fingers over his tanned, muscular, still-warm body one last time. It would have been nice to keep him a little longer, she thought.
After a long, comforting shower, Lyle finished packing and checked the flight times. Later, she would drive to the lake and take a short boat trip. Carlo would then join the others at the bottom of the lake.
Hard Truth, the third book in the DCI Hardy series is out now. You can get your copy here:
Hard Truth - Amazon
If you would like to be kept up to date with new releases from Jay Gill
, please complete an email contact form here, or on his Facebook page or website, www.jaygill.net
Spread the Word
If you’ve enjoyed this book, please help spread the word by leaving a review on Amazon. It can be as short or as long as you like. Reviews help bring the Hardy novels to the attention of other readers who may not have heard of DCI James Hardy – or me!
If you’ve never left a book review before, it’s easy: simply write whatever is true for you – for example, your experiences as you were reading, your impressions of the characters, what you thought of the writing itself, and who else the story might appeal to. Your words will be a beacon of sorts for others like us, who love thrillers.
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Many thanks,
Jay
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About the Author
Born in Dorset, southern England, Jay Gill moved to Buckinghamshire where he worked in the printing industry, primarily producing leaflets and packaging for the pharmaceutical industry. After several years of the London commute, and with his first child about to start school, he realised it was high time for a change and moved back to the south coast of England. This change freed up time for him to write the detective stories he dreamed of one day publishing.
