Sins of the Fathers Read Online Free PDF Page B

details of the murder,’ he continued. ‘Strictly speakin’, all you need to know in order to do your jobs is that, as the result of actions by a person or persons unknown, Bradley Pine is dead. But I’ve always believed that if you’re part of a team you should be kept informed – as much as is practicable – about what’s goin’ on. That’s why I’ve asked Sergeant Dix to tell you exactly what happened to Pine last night, even though that same information is still bein’ withheld from the press.’
    The constables looked pleased – as well they might.
    â€˜But before you’re briefed, let me give you one word of warnin’,’ Woodend said. ‘When you go off duty tonight, there’ll be loads of people – wives, girlfriends an’ mates – who’ll be itchin’ to be filled in on the gory details. An’ there’ll be a great temptation to tell them, because everybody likes to be the centre of attention an’ interest – everybody likes to reveal secrets. But it’s a temptation you must resist. Is
that
clear?’
    The detective constables nodded earnestly, as if to say that
of course
the secret was safe with them.
    â€˜Good!’ Woodend said. ‘Because if word
does
get out – an’ I find it came from any of you – I’ll get the offender’s balls between a couple of Accrington bricks an’ crush them to a pulp.’
    The young constables – for whom a surging in their loins was still a recent enough experience for it not to have lost its novelty value – grimaced.
    Woodend paused again to allow time for their scrotal sacs to return to their normal positions.
    â€˜Your team leader will be Detective Inspector Rutter,’ he continued. ‘At the moment, he’s travellin’ up from London, but he managed to ring me while he was changin’ trains at Crewe, an’ I’ve filled him in on most of the details.’ He turned to the grey-haired sergeant. ‘You’ve worked with Bob Rutter before, haven’t you, Sergeant Dix?’
    Dix nodded. ‘I have, sir. He’s a good man.’
    â€˜He’s a
very
good man – one of the best – an’ he has my full confidence,’ Woodend said.
    But was that entirely true any more, he wondered. Could Bob Rutter handle so much stress on his first day back on the job?
    Well, there was only one way to find out.
    â€˜If you study the way DI Rutter works, you should learn a lot from him,’ he continued. ‘But one more word of warnin’ – mess with him, an’ what he’ll do to you in return will make bein’ fed through a meat grinder seem like a holiday by the seaside.’
    He’d done all he could to smooth Rutter’s passage back into the job, he thought.
    Now it was up to Bob.
    The man stepping down from the train which had just pulled in at the main platform of Whitebridge Railway Station was in his early thirties, carrying a suitcase, and dressed in a smart blue suit.
    He looked – to anyone giving him a casual glance – like a successful businessman. A closer examination, however, revealed quite a different story. The lines etched into his face told a tale of worry and strain – possibly even of despair – and any observer would have been forced to conclude that if he
was
a businessman, he had not been so successful recently.
    There were other signs that all was not well. He seemed ill at ease, and instead of heading briskly for the exit – as any businessman with a tight schedule would – he remained on the platform, looking back longingly at the train from which he had just disembarked.
    The truth was that Bob Rutter was far from sure it had been a good idea to return to Whitebridge at all – and now was fighting the very strong urge to get back on the train and let it take him where it would.
    The train guard was walking along the