River of Souls Read Online Free PDF Page A

suspicions about who attacked Jude?’
    ‘I’m afraid not. I wasn’t keen on her boyfriend at the time. He seemed jealous of her other friends, but the police accepted his alibi. The young man in question only visited her here a few times.’ His smile dimmed by a few kilowatts. ‘Love was obviously skin deep in his case.’
    ‘Can you remember much about the night your daughter got hurt?’
    He gave a shallow sigh. ‘It’s all rather blurred, but I travelled to Brighton with a member of my campaign team. Traffic delayed us, so we stopped for a meal. I don’t recall what time we reached the hotel, but I stayed up till after midnight with a colleague planning my speech.’
    The minister’s aide bore down on us. ‘We need to leave soon, sir.’
    ‘Give me one more minute please, Giles.’ The man hovered close by, wearing a tense expression, as though his boss’s punctuality was a matter of national importance. Shelley rose to his feet slowly, his parting smile a dazzle of bleached white teeth. ‘My wife and I appreciate your help, Dr Quentin.’
    ‘One more question, Mr Shelley. Did you hear about the body discovered by Westminster Pier yesterday morning?’
    The question made him wince. ‘My wife and I were friends of Father Kelvin’s. We worship at St Mary’s; he christened Jude when she was three months old. The police want to talk to us about it this evening.’
    Shelley strode away with his staff in hot pursuit. His well-honed public image was too polished to reveal personal feelings, but the parallels between the attacks must have dawned on him too. His family priest had suffered a vicious assault, carried out in the same style as his daughter’s, on the date her case reopened. The only difference was that the attack on Father Owen had proved fatal. I made a mental note to contact the senior investigating officer on the Owen case and set up a meeting as soon as possible.
     
    My head was still buzzing as I hurried along Borough High Street to meet Lola. She was waiting for me at her favourite Turkish café on Park Street. My stress reduced the moment I saw her. She had charmed a waiter into parting with his best table, and she was wearing a mile-wide grin, auburn ringlets cascading across her shoulders. I leant down to give her a hug.
    ‘You look fabulous, Lo.’
    ‘That’s a blatant lie. I’m big as a walrus.’
    ‘Believe me, you look perfect.’
    Lola’s green eyes flickered. ‘Are you okay? You seem out of sorts.’
    ‘You’re imagining things. What have you been up to?’
    ‘Painting the spare room yellow. I’m hedging my bets.’
    Lola had opted for a laid-back approach to pregnancy. She was planning a home birth and had chosen not to know the baby’s sex, which was driving her boyfriend crazy. Neal was thirteen years younger, but he liked life to be perfectly controlled. Suddenly she reached across the table and grabbed my wrist.
    ‘You’re still going to be my birthing partner, aren’t you?’
    ‘Of course. But Neal’ll change his mind on the big day.’
    ‘You’re joking; one drop of blood and he keels over. Now tell me what’s up.’
    I considered lying, but Lola’s bullshit detector was unbeatable. ‘One small thing, one big.’
    ‘Give me the small one first.’
    ‘I’ve fallen for a married man.’
    She rolled her eyes. ‘There’s a universal cure. Have loads of casual sex until you’ve shagged him out of your system.’ Her lewd expression made me laugh.
    ‘It’s that easy?’
    ‘Trust me, it works. What’s the other problem?’
    ‘I’ve been asked to profile an attacker who mutilated someone’s face. She’s got the worst injuries I’ve ever seen.’
    ‘Learn to say no occasionally, darling. That might help.’
    ‘Thanks, Lo. You’re an endless well of sympathy.’
    Lola ploughed her way through a mound of falafel, hummus and pita bread. It was a relief to see her eat a square meal for once. During her years as a dancer, she’d existed on Marlboro