Dead Souls Read Online Free PDF Page B

back towards the door.
    ‘None of your bloody business,’ Mrs Brady said, closing it in his face.

4
    Back at St Leonard’s police station, Rebus looked up Calumn Brady on the computer. At age seventeen, Cal already had impressive form: assault, shoplifting, drunk and disorderly. There was no sign as yet that Jamie was following in his footsteps, but the mother, Vanessa Brady, known as ‘Van’, had been in trouble. Disputes with neighbours had become violent, and she’d been caught giving Cal a false alibi for one of his assault charges. No mention anywhere of a husband. Whistling ‘We Are Family’, Rebus went to ask the desk sergeant if he knew who the community officer was for Greenfield.
    ‘Tom Jackson,’ he was told. ‘And I know where he is, because I saw him not two minutes ago.’
    Tom Jackson was in the car park at the back of the station, finishing a cigarette. Rebus joined him, lit one for himself and made the offer. Jackson shook his head.
    ‘Got to pace myself, sir,’ he said.
    Jackson was in his mid-forties, barrel-chested and silver-haired with matching moustache. His eyes were dark, so that he always looked sceptical. He saw this as a decided bonus, since all he had to do was keep quiet and suspects would offer up more than they wanted to, just to appease that look.
    ‘I hear you’re still working Greenfield, Tom.’
    ‘For my sins.’ Jackson flicked ash from his cigarette, then brushed a few flecks from his uniform. ‘I was due a transfer in January.’
    ‘What happened?’
    ‘The locals needed a Santa for their Christmas do. Theyhave one every year at the church. Underprivileged kids. They asked muggins here.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘And I did it. Some of those kids … poor wee bastards. Almost had me in tears.’ The memory stopped him for a moment. ‘Some of the locals came up afterwards, started whispering.’ He smiled. ‘It was like the confessional. See, the only way they could think to thank me was to furnish a few tip-offs.’
    Rebus smiled. ‘Shopping their neighbours.’
    ‘As a result of which, my clear-up rate got a sudden lift. Bugger is, they’ve decided to keep me there, seeing how I’m suddenly so clever.’
    ‘A victim of your own success, Tom.’ Rebus inhaled, holding the smoke as he examined the tip of his cigarette. Exhaling, he shook his head. ‘Christ, I love smoking.’
    ‘Not me. Interviewing some kid, warning him off drugs, and all the time I’m gasping for a draw.’ He shook his head. ‘Wish I could give it up.’
    ‘Have you tried patches?’
    ‘No good, they kept slipping off my eye.’
    They shared a laugh at that.
    ‘I’m assuming you’ll get round to it eventually,’ Jackson said.
    ‘What, trying a patch?’
    ‘No, telling me what it is you’re after.’
    ‘Am I that transparent?’
    ‘Maybe it’s just my finely honed intuition.’
    Rebus flicked ash into the breeze. ‘I was out at Greenfield earlier. You know a guy called Darren Rough?’
    ‘Can’t say I do.’
    ‘I had a run-in with him at the zoo.’
    Jackson nodded, stubbed out his cigarette. ‘I heard about it. Paedophile, yes?’
    ‘And living in Cragside Court.’
    Jackson stared at Rebus. ‘That I didn’t know.’
    ‘Neighbours don’t seem to know either.’
    ‘They’d murder him if they did.’
    ‘Maybe someone could have a word …’
    Jackson frowned. ‘Christ, I don’t know about that. They’d string him up.’
    ‘Bit of an exaggeration, Tom. Run him out of town maybe.’
    Jackson straightened his back. ‘And that’s what you want?’
    ‘You really want a paedophile on your beat?’
    Jackson thought about it. He brought out his pack of cigarettes and was reaching into it when he checked his watch: ciggie break over.
    ‘Let me think on it.’
    ‘Fair enough, Tom.’ Rebus flicked his own cigarette on to the tarmac. ‘I bumped into one of Rough’s neighbours, Van Brady.’
    Jackson winced. ‘Don’t get on the wrong side of that one.’
    ‘You mean she