by Jay Gill
The DCI James Hardy Box Set
Books 1-4
Jay Gill
Copyright © Jay Gill 2019
Hardy Thrillers Edition, Published 04 2019
The right of Jay Gill to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or transmitted into any retrieval system, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
BOOKS BY JAY GILL
Knife & Death
Walk in the Park
(A Short Thriller)
Angels
Hard Truth
Inferno
A free bonus chapter is available for each book.
For more information visit, www.jaygill.net
Contents
Knife & Death
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Walk in the Park
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Angels
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Hard Truth
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
&n
bsp; Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
DCI Hardy returns in…
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About the Author
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Knife & Death
Book 1
Chapter One
Strictly speaking, this wasn’t my case, and I was only there because Detective Inspector Rayner had called in a favour. He needed backup, and I owed him.
We had arrived at the home of Simon Baker just after 7 p.m. It was a warm summer’s evening and I was meant to be home. I definitely wasn’t in the mood for the bluster coming out of Baker’s mouth. Another team was meant to be handling this search, but it had been dropped in my lap at the last minute.
Baker stood in his doorway, his hands pressed deep in his pockets and his face like thunder.
“What the hell is this all about? I’m just off for a dinner engagement, an awards ceremony. Whatever it is it’ll have to wait, so if you’ll excuse me, officers,” he boomed.
“Could we speak with your wife, please, Mr Baker?” asked Rayner.
“She’s not well; she’s sleeping. I really am in a hurry, officers. I’m already running late, so if you can call back at a more convenient time, and perhaps phone ahead next time—”
“It’s Detective Inspector Rayner and Detective Chief Inspector Hardy. And this won’t wait,” barked Rayner.
“You could be the King of England for all I care,” Baker shot back. “Turning up out of the blue is very inconvenient. We can’t all work to a police timetable; most of us plan our days. So, as I have already said, I’m afraid whatever it is will simply have to wait. I have to be at this ceremony, and you’re making me late.”
“We have a warrant to search the premises,” said Rayner, passing him a sheet of paper.
“What are you talking about?” said Baker. “Why would you need a warrant?”
Rayner had now had enough of standing on the doorstep trying to ask politely. I suspected he wouldn’t be applying for a position as hostage negotiator anytime soon, and he definitely didn’t have the temperament today. He was through with Baker’s waffling and so pushed the front door open. He breezed past Baker, who was now incandescent. And to my mind, Baker was showing signs of a man who was more than just furious at being made late for a party.
“How about you take a seat, Mr Baker?” I insisted. “Detective Inspector Rayner is going to take a look around. If you have any questions about the warrant, feel free to ask. Otherwise, we’ll be out of your way quicker than you can say ‘Vincent van Gogh.’”
Baker looked unimpressed. He was watching and listening for Rayner as he began moving from room to room.
“Which room is your wife in?” I asked. Baker looked at me but didn’t answer; his attention was still on Rayner. “Your wife,” I repeated. “Which room?” Baker sat in dumb silence.
Rayner moved upstairs. I could hear drawers and doors opening and closing. After a while Rayner came back down and stood at the foot of the stairs. He peered around as though looking for something or trying to find his bearings. He glanced at me and then turned and hurried along the hall to the kitchen. A few moments later he came back and stood in the doorway.
“The door in the kitchen,” he said to Baker. “The one on the right. It’s padlocked. Where do you keep the key?”
Baker looked at Rayner, then at me, then back at Rayner.
“The key?” repeated Rayner. “Either that or I crowbar it off. It makes no difference to me. In fact, I’d enjoy using a crowbar.”
Baker got to his feet as he patted himself down and, without a word, passed me the key from his shirt pocket. I handed it to Rayner, who then disappeared back into the kitchen. Baker was leaning forward in his chair as though he was just as interested as I was to learn what Rayner might find. For several moments it was quiet, and then I heard voices followed by sobbing.
“Hardy, I’ve found Mrs Baker,” called Rayner. “You ought to take a look at this. Cuff him first. We’re going to want to take him with us for questioning.”
Baker jumped to his feet and ran for the front door. I moved quickly and, with a forceful push, redirected him so he hit the door frame face first. He fell backwards and landed on his backside. I turned him over onto his stomach and, with my knee pressed firmly into his back, cuffed his hands behind him.
“I don’t think you’ll be making it to your party tonight, Mr Baker. Still, I’m sure back at Scotland Yard they’ll rustle up some canapés for you, if you ask nicely. Though I think we’re all out of champagne.” As much as I dislike sarcasm, I couldn’t help myself. I hauled Baker to his feet, dragged him to the kitchen and sat him in a chair.
“Through here,” called Rayner.
I went through the unlocked door and found Rayner comforting a woman who I guessed to be Mrs Baker. I looked around the room, which was full of art; there were canvasses everywhere. There was also a bed and a small table. An area had been partitioned off, and this contained a sink, shower and toilet. Mrs Baker looked pale, and though she was trembling, she’d stopped crying. Instead, she was sitting upright and was trying to be strong.
“I won’t let that man see me crying. You know it was my art that kept me going. My art, not his. Mine. I prayed every day and had faith that eventually the truth would come out,” said Mrs Baker.
“What are you telling us?” asked Rayner.
“I’m telling you my husband has kept me here,” she gestured around the room. “He kept me a prisoner in my own home. If I didn’t produce art for him, he would stop feeding me. He sometimes turned off the water for days so I couldn’t drink. He beat me and threatened me. Said he would kill me and no one would ever know.”
“You’re safe now,” I said. “When you’re ready we’re going to get you out of here. You need never worry about your husband again, I assure you.”
“Where is he?” said Mrs Baker.
“He’s just outside in the kitchen. He’s handcuffed. But don’t worry – I’ll take him away and you won’t need to see him. Just give me a few—”
Mrs Baker interrupted me. “No. I want him to see me as I walk out of here. I want that talentless coward to see me. I want to look him in the eye.”
