A Question of Blood (2003) Read Online Free PDF

Shiv.”
    “Hang on a sec!” Siobhan was looking towards the doorway.
    “What?” Hogan failed to mask his exasperation.
    “He’s just here. I’ll put him on.” She stretched the receiver out towards Rebus. His clothes all seemed to be hanging awkwardly. At first, she thought he must be drunk, but then she realized what it was. He’d struggled to get dressed. His shirt was tucked into his waistband, but only just. His tie hung loose around his neck. Instead of taking the phone from her, he came forward and leaned his ear against it.
    “It’s Bobby Hogan,” she explained.
    “Hiya, Bobby.”
    “John? Connection must be breaking up . . .”
    Rebus looked at Siobhan. “Bit closer,” he whispered. She angled the mouthpiece so it rested against his chin, noting that his hair needed washing. It was plastered to his scalp in the front, but sticking up in the back.
    “That better, Bobby?”
    “Fine, yes. John, I need a favor.”
    When the phone dipped a little, Rebus looked up at Siobhan. Her gaze was directed at the doorway again. He glanced around and saw Gill Templer standing there.
    “My office!” she snapped. “Now!”
    Rebus ran the tip of his tongue around his lips. “I think I’m going to have to call you back, Bobby. Boss wants a word.”
    He straightened up, hearing Hogan’s voice becoming tinny and mechanical. Templer was beckoning for him to follow. He gave a little shrug in Siobhan’s direction and began to leave the room again.
    “He’s gone,” she told the mouthpiece.
    “Well, get him back!”
    “I don’t think that’s going to be possible. Look . . . maybe if you could give me a clue what this is all about. I might be able to help . . .”
 
    “I’ll leave it open if you don’t mind,” Rebus said.
    “If you want the whole station to hear, that’s fine by me.”
    Rebus slumped down on the visitor’s chair. “It’s just that I’m having a bit of trouble with door handles.” He lifted his hands for Templer to see. Her expression changed immediately.
    “Christ, John, what the hell happened?”
    “I scalded myself. Looks worse than it is.”
    “Scalded yourself?” She leaned back, fingers pressing the edge of the desk.
    He nodded. “There’s no more to it than that.”
    “Despite what I’m thinking?”
    “Despite what you’re thinking. I filled the kitchen sink to do some dishes, forgot I hadn’t added cold and plunged my hands in.”
    “For how long exactly?”
    “Long enough to scald them, apparently.” He tried for a smile, reckoned the dishes story was easier to swallow than the bathtub, despite which Templer looked far from convinced. Her phone started ringing. She picked up the receiver and dropped it again, cutting the connection.
    “You’re not the only one having some bad luck. Martin Fairstone died in a fire.”
    “Siobhan told me.”
    “And?”
    “Accident with a chip pan.” He shrugged. “It happens.”
    “You were with him Sunday night.”
    “Was I?”
    “Witnesses saw you together in a bar.”
    Rebus shrugged. “I did chance to bump into him.”
    “And left the bar with him?”
    “No.”
    “Went back to his place?”
    “Says who?”
    “John . . .”
    His voice was rising. “Who says it wasn’t an accident?”
    “The fire investigators are still looking.”
    “Good luck to them.” Rebus made to fold his arms, realized what he was doing, and dropped them to either side again.
    “That probably hurts,” Templer commented.
    “It’s bearable.”
    “And it happened on Sunday night?”
    He nodded.
    “Look, John . . .” She leaned forwards, elbows on the desktop. “You know what people are going to say. Siobhan claimed Fairstone was stalking her. He denied it, then countered that you’d threatened him.”
    “A charge he decided to drop.”
    “But now I hear from Siobhan that Fairstone attacked her. Did you know about that?”
    He shook his head. “The fire’s just a stupid coincidence.”
    She lowered her eyes. “It doesn’t