DARK HOUSES a gripping detective thriller full of suspense Read Online Free PDF

Oldston United were playing at home and the ground is only down the road.”
    “Thanks, Megan. You’ve been a help. We might need to talk to you again though.” Grace smiled.
    “Come back anytime. And bring your dishy bloke with you!” They returned to the car.
    Grace was blushing again. “Sorry about that, sir.”
    “It’s okay, Grace.”
    “What do you think? What she said about Frankie Farr — that’s not how I saw him at all,” said Grace.
    “Megan Hunter has no reason to lie, and she sees more of him than you do. We’ll speak to him, and see what we think. Jessie’s movements yesterday seem straightforward enough. But if she wasn’t seeing Frankie and she wasn’t going home, then what was she doing on Arnold Street?”
    “Even if Megan Hunter didn’t hear it, Jessie could have arranged to meet someone. Like I said at the briefing, Jessie was a bit of a man-eater. Anything in trousers . . .”
    “Is it likely, given she had Frankie Farr on her case?”
    “With the Jessie I knew, highly likely. She had precious few scruples and wouldn’t think twice if the offer was good enough.”
    “Fancy tackling Mavis now?”
    “We’ll go to the flat, and see if she’s back yet. If she isn’t, then we’d better find Frankie Farr. See what he’s got to say for himself.”

Chapter 4
    Something bad, something bad .
    What did they mean, those words going round in his head? They were making him feel dizzy. He wasn’t helping by shaking that cereal into a bowl. If he thinks I can eat breakfast, he’s bloody mad!
    “Help yourself to milk.”
    “Was I here last night? I can’t remember.”
    The man laughed, and carried on sorting breakfast. He shouldn’t laugh. It was getting him confused. Neville didn’t know what was funny anymore. He still hadn’t worked out if this man was real. He looked real, but then they all did. His world was populated by shadowy figures — some spoke, some didn’t. Some said they would help him . . . all this one did was give him pills.
    Neville stared at him, trying to work it out. Could he trust his own mind? Well, the short answer to that was no . He wanted to reach out and grab hold of him , touch real flesh. The urge made his palms itch. But he was scared. What if he wasn’t real? What then? Neville didn’t even know his name. He didn’t even know when he’d appeared in his life, or how.
    “I’m surprised you need to ask that.”
    “The voices were playing up again. They were at me all night. They wanted me to do something bad.” Neville lowered his voice. “I have done something bad. I must have done. They don’t give up, those voices. If I don’t do what they want, they don’t go away. They bellow away inside here.” He pointed to his head.
    “You had a good time, though. Didn’t I say we’d have fun?”
    “When was that?”
    “A while ago.”
    “It was bad fun. I hurt that girl.”
    “Make sure you take your pills properly today.”
    “What good will they do?” Does he really think they do any good? “You do believe me. I’m not telling lies. I went somewhere last night and I did something real bad.”
    He had that look on his face. “You know, don’t you? You know what I did.”
    “Yes, I know,” he said at last.
    The relief. Neville closed his eyes and lets it wash through him. It wasn’t a dream. It was real. He was real — the man. Neville had done those things. He remembered now. He wasn’t going mad after all.
    “You’re all over the papers.” The man slapped down the latest edition of the Herald on the table. “You’re famous. You, of all people. Imagine that.”
    “Will I like being famous?” Neville wasn’t sure. Could a person be famous for doing those bad things?
    “Depends whether they catch you or not.”
    Neville tried to read what it said. But the words moved and blurred in front of his eyes. “They haven’t put my name. Shall I tell them?”
    The man looks at him steadily. It made Neville nervous.
    “Not yet.