‘That’s all, Bob, you can get back to those fascinating files now.’
With a shrug, he rose and headed for the door. ‘Just you take care, sir,’ he said quietly as he left the room.
Snow sat back in his chair and sighed. Well, he’d done all he could do. Now it was up to the fates.
Michael Armitage hauled the two carrier bags out of the boot of the car. He had always hated shopping and while he was married he had been very adept at avoiding getting involved in the process. But since his divorce, he really had no option. Every bloody Thursday, down to bloody Sainsbury’s like a bloody fishwife. He slammed the car boot down and struggled up the path to his tiny terraced abode: his prize for being kicked out of the family semi up in the posh environs of Fixby. Now he had to find his bloody key. He dropped the two bags on the door mat and sought for his house key in his jacket pocket.
‘Michael Armitage,’ said a voice in the darkness behind him. Armitage turned awkwardly to face the speaker.
‘Who wants to know?’ he asked gruffly.
‘No one of consequence,’ said the stranger, thrusting his hand forward. As he did so Armitage felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. He glanced down as the stranger withdrew his hand and he saw that it was holding a knife: a long vicious-looking knife which had dark stains on it.
Blood.
His blood.
Before he could react, the man plunged again, the blade sinking even deeper this time. Armitage groaned in agony and doubled up after the third blow and slumped to the ground. His vision grew foggy and his attacker now became just a vague shadow. With the fourth blow of the knife, Michael Armitage lost consciousness and any hope of survival. Very quickly life, like the blood around his stomach, gushed out of him, his head resting on one of the shopping bags.
‘Brother, hail and farewell,’ said Laurence before turning and making his way down the path.
A little way along the road was a man standing in the shadows near a street lamp.’
‘Mission accomplished,’ said Laurence as he approached the man, not noticing the gun he held in his hand.
‘Good,’ said the man. ‘Very good.’
And then he pulled the trigger. Twice.
As Laurence toppled to the ground, Snow gave a grim smile. ‘Game over,’ he said.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
DAVID STUART DAVIES left teaching to become editor of Sherlock Magazine and is generally regarded as an expert on Sherlock Holmes, having written six novels, film books and plays featuring the character. He has given presentations on Holmes at many festivals and conferences as well as on the Queen Mary II. He appeared as toastmaster at the Sherlock Holmes Dinner at Bloody Scotland in 2012 – Scotland’s first international crime writing festival. He also created his own detective, wartime private eye Johnny Hawke, who has appeared in six novels. David is a member of the national committee of the Crime Writer’s Association, editing their monthly magazine, ‘Red Herrings’. He lives in Huddersfield, West Yorkshire.
COPYRIGHT
First published in 2013
The History Press
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Stroud, Gloucestershire, GL5 2QG
www.thehistorypress.co.uk
This ebook edition first published in 2013
All rights reserved
© David Stuart Davies, 2013
The right of David Stuart Davies to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
EPUB ISBN 978 0 7524 9435 7
Original typesetting by The History Press
Ebook compilation by RefineCatch Limited, Bungay, Suffolk
Brothers in Blood Page 24
