Behind Dead Eyes (DC Ian Bradshaw #2) - Howard Linskey Page 0,52

terrific bang. Helen took two deep breaths before she felt able to resume her walk to her car, which was on the upper of the two levels on this floor. That meant climbing the ramp the cars used, as she could not see a footpath. She did this briskly while looking around her to make sure no one was following. Helen knew she was well and truly rattled now but she couldn’t help herself. She vividly recalled the threats from Councillor Lynch and knew the company he was keeping these days. She told herself she had good cause to be nervous.

Helen spotted her car, but as she drew closer, what she saw stopped her in her tracks. Someone must have followed her here – how else could they have known where to find her car? The message had been sprayed on the light-coloured bodywork in thick, dark lettering as unsubtle as the words used: ‘Bitch, whore, slag.’ It was enough to make Helen feel sick and she was momentarily torn. She had no desire to go near the car but nor did she want to risk going down that dark, enclosed staircase again. She couldn’t stand out here in the open either. What if the man who had done this was still nearby? What if he was watching her right now?

Helen decided to move and set off at a normal walking pace towards her car, noting with relief that at least her tyres remained undamaged. If the vandal was watching her, she was determined not to let him see how upset she was. Helen banished her feelings of revulsion and kept walking. She put her hand into her bag and drew out the keys so she could get into the car and drive away as quickly as possible.

She was only a few yards from her car when it suddenly dawned on her that whoever did this could be inside. He might even be lying in wait for her on the back seat.

She steeled herself and gripped the keys in her palm, ensuring the pointed end stuck out through her fingers. If he was inside and he leapt for her, she swore she would gouge him in the face.

Heart pounding, Helen reached the car and stole a quick glance inside, but saw nothing on the back seat and no one hiding in the foot wells. Instantly her fear of the car was replaced by a desperate desire to climb inside it as quickly as possible and lock the door. She moved the key into a more natural position, opened the door and got in as fast as she was able. Helen slammed the door so quickly she banged her knee, but without pausing, she started the car’s engine, reversed swiftly out of the space and drove as fast as she dared for the exit.

The rain was lashing down on Ian Bradshaw as he stood disconsolately on Elvet Bridge, cursing Tom Carney for his lateness. Why had he agreed to meet the reporter in Durham city out in the open? Because the weather had been deceptively warm and sunny earlier that day and it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

‘You’re late,’ he told Tom as he trudged towards Bradshaw with his hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

‘Traffic was a bastard. They are digging up the roads again. I told you we should have met in a pub.’ Tom couldn’t see the point of meeting at all, since he couldn’t imagine DCI Kane agreeing to his little deal.

‘I’m on duty,’ Bradshaw reminded him, ‘it’s alright for you.’ And the two men walked across the stone bridge together into the old core of the city.

‘Then have a bloody orange juice, for God’s sake,’ snapped Tom. He squinted against the rain that was driven into them by a swirling wind and steered Bradshaw along Sadler Street, which led to the famous cathedral at the top of the hill. They didn’t get that far though, as Tom motioned for Bradshaw to follow him into the Shakespeare, an ancient, tiny pub that provided a comfortable nook against the foul weather.

Tom ordered the drinks while Bradshaw removed his sodden coat and hung it on the back of a chair, where it dripped onto the floor.

‘Kane has given the go-ahead,’ he said when Tom returned with a glass of orange juice and a pint of bitter the detective eyed enviously.

‘Really?’ Tom could hardly have been more surprised. ‘You did tell him my side of the deal?’