Numb: A Dark Thriller Read Online Free PDF Page B

It all seemed legitimate. I had no idea Mike Nash was involved until I had trouble paying.”
    Most people don’t know he’s involved , Riley thought. Why do you think he get’s so much business?
    “Since her death I haven’t been able to get another job and can’t manage the higher repayments. I’m an electrician – contract work, mostly. Being sixty-three I suppose it’s understandable that employers don’t want to know.” Simpson then smiled. His eyes glazed over. Grief tinged with happy memories. “My wife saw our fortieth anniversary and died three days later in her own bed. But at least she died at home, with me beside her like she’d wanted. She didn’t know where I’d gotten the money in order to have her live her final months at home. I didn’t want to burden her with those kinds of problems with what she was going through. But I don’t regret borrowing the money, not at all. Because I had her with me until the very end.” He was still smiling when a single tear rolled down one of his pale cheeks.
    And that was Riley’s excuse to leave.
    “I’ll see you in a month, Mr Simpson,” he said and couldn’t get out the house quick enough.
    He sucked in the cool afternoon air as he made his way back to the Mercedes under a sky that suddenly seemed devoid of a sun, a sky that had turned a drab grey, threatening rain. Maybe it just seemed gloomier because of the way he felt. Violence he could deal with. Grief, on the other hand, was trickier and he was glad to be out of there. Despite offering Mr Simpson a way out of debt and freeing him from Nash’s grip, Riley still felt like he had swallowed a led weight and was ashamed of calling on the older man at all.
    “What took you so long?” Howden asked as Riley climbed behind the wheel.
    “I told you. He was counting the money.” Riley tossed the envelope at Howden.
    “It took a while. Was he paying in pennies?” Howden looked inside the envelope. Leafed through the notes. Did a quick count. “That’s all of what he owed. So what fees did you hit him with to keep the debt going?”
    “None.” Riley tucked the paperwork in his pocket.
    “Eh?”
    “He’s cleared his debt. It’s finished.”
    “Nash won’t like that. It’s not you’re place to make those decisions.”
    “Leave Nash to me,” Riley said and started the engine. “Two more to do and then that’s us for the day.” He placed his hands on the steering wheel and saw the smear of blood on the knuckles of his right hand. The thin cut underneath had obviously been made by the second nephew’s teeth. Riley dropped his hand down to his lap, hiding the wound from Howden as he pulled away from the kerb and headed out of the estate. He’d have to treat it later on. Something like that could become infected. The mouth was full of germs and bite marks were notorious for carrying bacteria. But it was nothing to worry about just yet. After all, he’d had worse in the past.
    And had he not seen the blood, he wouldn’t have known the wound was even there.

4
     
     
    The sitting room inside the upstairs flat on the north side of the river was what an estate agent might describe as “in need of some refurbishment.”
    Most others would simply say that it was a dump.
    The paper was nicotine stained and hanging off the walls like diseased flesh, the carpet was worn and littered with crumbs and rubbish and there were several damp patches staining the ceiling. The only furniture was a battered sofa and small coffee table full of empty drinks cans. Surprisingly, however, there was a HD television on the wall and a games console and DVD/BLURAY player underneath - which showed the priorities of the owners. The place stank of sweat and smoke and beer, and two of the three men inside smelled the same. Both wore jeans and T-shirts and neither had shaved in days. One of them was Brian Wilcox; Caucasian, twenty-eight and unemployed. The other was Marlon Tennant; black, twenty-nine and also out of