Grind Their Bones Read Online Free PDF

coffee and to break the news to Lee.
    Why am I such a bloody push over?
     
     

Chapter 12
     
    The Grey Man pushed his foot down a touch harder on the accelerator and the new silver Jaguar XKR surged forward in response. He was usually as careful with his driving as he was with all other aspects of his life. It didn't pay to draw attention to yourself unnecessarily when your main hobby was the killing and eating other people. But he was a significant distance from civilisation on a single track country lane, so the risk of being caught speeding was a small one.
    The plan had been to scope out possible suitable settings for his next little soiree, but there had been disturbing developments in the police investigation that were playing on his mind. Now he found himself, for once, largely ignoring the vivid expanse of varying greens blurring past the windows on either side.
    The biggest problem lay in the press release, which he'd awaited with growing excitement and anticipation. This would be the time when the famed Doctor Alan Hardwick entered the fray and gave an eerily accurate description of the Grey Man for all to hear. Then the games could really begin. On the evening of the scheduled broadcast he'd booked himself into a boutique hotel for the evening, making excuses about an unplanned business trip to Madeleine, and packing a modest overnight bag. She had accepted his explanation without question or complaint, of course. His sudden absences were frequent enough that they no longer raised any eyebrows and he'd been free to lay his mask to one side for a while.
    ‘His rage towards women in general has manifested itself in the past, resulting in incarceration and likely contact with the mental health authorities. Contrary to some of the speculation in the media, we believe that he is of no more than average intelligence.’
    The words had bounced around inside the dark recesses of his mind until he finally skewered them in place and began to carefully dissect them. Was it possible that the great Doctor Hardwick had him down as a garden variety lunatic? A deranged, dribbling, uncontrolled sadist lashing out at any woman who crossed his path, and who existed in police records for his prior offences?
    He'd obtained copies of each of Hardwick's previous books, even taking the trouble to get them personally signed, feeling immortal as he'd watched one of the world's foremost authorities on serial killers look him in the face from a mere three feet away on two separate occasions, and still not see him for what he was. He'd pawed over them for hours, marvelling at the powers of deductive reasoning that had undone some of the greats and brought their bloody sprees to an end. He was a worthier adversary than the rest of them put together, perhaps the most dangerous one who had ever lived. How dare the man disrespect him in this manner?
    The Grey Man snapped back into the present, brushing away the cobwebs of remembrance and slowing the car back down again at the sight of a flock of young sheep crossing the road a hundred yards ahead. The flat-capped shepherd raised a hand in acknowledgement as he came to a complete halt, and he fiddled with the radio channels to kill time while the animals clambered all over each other to get through a break in the dry stone wall. It was a well worn cliché, but people were indeed like sheep, they lived in a state of constant neuroticism, and the whole lot of them could be scattered in panic by the presence of just one predator in their midst.
    The more he considered it, the more unlikely it seemed that the esteemed Alan Hardwick could have gotten his evaluation so obviously wrong. They were beginning to forget how much they should fear him, and that meant it was time to scatter the flock again. It was time to pay the Doctor a visit.
     
     

Chapter 13
     
    Unable to shake off my grave concerns about the psychological profile of the Grey Man that Doctor Hardwick had provided, I had made an