Mercy Killing Read Online Free PDF Page B

there?’
    A warning look from his oldest friend halted the bouncing up and down in his seat and sound of metal chair-leg studs scratching their way across the hard floor. Leon Edwards always intended to
do the right thing but he had no stop button. His heart was almost constantly in the right place but he didn’t know when to call it a day. It was probably his best and his worst
characteristic.
    The day he and Toby Carvell had met they were in a children’s home, both placed there due to their misfortunes. Toby had been a skinny and nervous boy, Leon larger both in size and in
heart than his contemporaries. What Leon lacked in finesse, he made up for in other ways. He picked up on the expression on his friend’s face and said, ‘Why are you smiling? I thought I
was in for a bollocking then.’
    ‘I was thinking about when we met and how my first thought was that you were going to beat the living daylights out of me.’
    ‘That goes to show, Toby, how appearances can be deceptive.’ As he spoke, he rubbed his hands over the front of his white shirt, stretched to capacity across his stomach, and
belched. ‘I’m ready for my grub now. Hope she’s not too long with it. I can’t even see where she’s gone. You don’t think she’s forgotten our order, do
you?’
    ‘Trust me on this one – appearances are not that deceptive,’ said Toby with a slow shake of his head. ‘Going on past eating-out experiences with you, I know that
you’re going to regret wearing that white shirt. You asked for your burger stacked with onions, relish, sauce. You may as well ask the waitress to tip it straight down your front.’
    ‘I’m only doing what we agreed,’ said Leon. ‘I’m wearing completely different stuff.’
    Again, Toby pitched forward in an attempt to cut off any idle talk in the café. They had planned to use a harshly lit, town-centre, late-night eatery with a sprinkling of customers so
they wouldn’t stand out as odd and would mix with the regulars. For three months, every Friday, they’d made a point of dropping in at about the same time, sitting at the same table,
close to the counter and near to the plate-glass windows peering out to the High Street, being served by the same waitress. Toby knew that planning was what would save them when the time came. He
couldn’t afford to have a careless comment give them away.
    He need not have worried as the arrival of the waitress with two plates laden with food halted Leon. Little silenced him, but a half-pounder burger, chips, coleslaw and onion rings was as likely
to work as anything else.
    She plonked down the food without looking at either of them, concentrating on not spilling the meals. Task complete, she said, ‘I’ve put you loads of extra pickles in yours,
Dilly.’
    At this point, she risked eye contact. ‘Is that why you’re called Dilly?’
    ‘No, Lorraine,’ Leon said, smothering his chips in vinegar. ‘It’s a long story but if you ever feel like hearing it, I can explain over a pint.’
    Toby had read Lorraine on her name badge but now he read horror on her face.
    ‘How about we let the nice lady get back to work now?’ Toby looked up at her and gave her one of his smiles.
    Both men watched her backside as she made her way to other customers, customers who were there to be served and not with the main intention of being noticed so that their alibi for the evening
was easy to establish.

Chapter 11
    Any given Friday night of the year, staffing levels could be low, but if Guy Fawkes Night fell on a Friday it was guaranteed there’d be no spare police officers on hand.
Murder never took into account police availability.
    Harry Powell called the control room from Flat 12, Pleasure Lane and warned East Rise’s Major Crime team that a suspicious death was coming their way. Those able to postpone whatever else
they were occupied with prepared themselves to work through the night.
    As he said goodbye to Joanna Styles, who had