Black & Blue: Where it all began…… (D.S Hunter Kerr) Read Online Free PDF Page B

stuff.” He pulled out his overcoat and draped it over an arm.
    Hunter noted the note of sarcasm in his tutor’s last sentence. He said, “But this is exciting for me.”
    L eaning into his locker door Roger turned, meeting Hunter’s gaze. He broke into a smile. “Ignore me Hunter. This is what years in the job does to you.” Then fastening the door shut he added, “Make sure you’ve got all your stuff, this could be a long day and we might not get the chance to come back to the nick.” He set off towards the parade room. “Briefing’s in ten minutes.”
     
    * * * * *
     
    At briefing Hunter learned that Edith Thompson had been found early that morning by her carer in a heap in the lounge. She had suffered a heart attack and had bruising to her face. The carer had also found that the rear door had been forced and had immediately alerted the police.
    In recent weeks t here had been a spate of burglaries in the area with a similar MO, but this was the first where the occupant had been hurt and a team of detectives had been marshalled to investigate. He and Roger were amongst half a dozen uniformed cops assigned to carry out house-to-house enquiries in and around the streets surrounding Edith’s bungalow.
    * * * * *
     
    Hunter strolled along the road scrutinising the last form he had completed. It was the tenth house-to-house questionnaire he’d done on his own and he was pleased with himself; he was into a roll with the process. For the first two hours of the day he’d been with Roger, watching and learning. After that he had convinced his tutor that he could go it alone. Not only that, he told Roger, but they could cover twice as much ground. His tutor had agreed, with the added proviso that Hunter contacted him immediately should he get information worthy of following up. Hunter had acknowledged with a nod and set off into the next street with a bundle of forms.
    That had been four hours ago Hunter determined as he checked his watch. His stomach was churning. Despite the numerous cups of teas he’d drunk during the form filling he’d only managed to snack on a sausage roll, during the time he’d been door-knocking and now he was running on empty. Seeing that it was only 7pm made him cringe. He had another hour and half to go before he could return to the station. He was also busting for a piss. He looked up and down the street and gathered his bearings. He realised that he was approaching an area at the end of the road which had been earmarked for development - several rows of old Victorian terracing was in the early stages of demolition. It was the ideal place to go he thought – there would still be toilets in some of the outbuildings.
    He picked up his pace , and turning the corner he spotted the long row of boarded up terracing stretching out before him. Then, tramping across waste ground he soon reached the rear of the old Victorian housing.
    He checked half a dozen outhouses before he found one with a suitable toilet.
    Hunter was just fastening up his trousers when a clattering noise, followed by a human curse sounded nearby making him jump. Stiffening, he held his breath and listened. Another burst of noise happened and Hunter recognised it as the sound of metal upon metal. He eased open the door and poked out his head. Autumn daylight was beginning to give way to evening and a dull orange glow was filling the horizon, but Hunter could still make out his surroundings. He stepped out of the building and edged slowly into the clearing of the waste ground. There he spotted movement. It was a silhouette at first – a human form crouching over something. Hunter’s fingers searched out his hasp. He secured them around its metal handle and increased his footfall towards the figure.
    Ten yards from his destination the character straightened and he immediately recognised George Arthur Hudson. He released the grip on his hasp.
    On a deeper than normal note Hunter commanded, “What are you doing