Tainted Ground Read Online Free PDF Page A

sergeant was dark-haired and petite. She was dressed in a very well-cut trouser suit and sensible flat shoes.
    â€˜What can I do for you, Ingrid?’ Carrick said.
    â€˜May I speak with you in private?’ I requested.
    â€˜This isn’t a good time,’ he replied.
    â€˜Two minutes,’ I promised.
    Carrick turned to Lynn. ‘Please excuse me for a moment.’
    He and I walked away for a short distance.
    â€˜I’m only here because you rang me,’ I began. ‘If you hadn’t I would have minded my own business. But I can’t, not now. Patrick is at the rectory when he should be here. And frankly, James, I didn’t think you’d allow this to go as far as it has. You’ve never seemed to me to be the sort of person to kick a man when he’s down.’
    â€˜I’m not,’ said Carrick tautly.
    â€˜Well, that’s where Patrick is. Down. Bet you never thought you’d see tears in his eyes, eh? You’re so in awe of the very rare occasions when he goes over the top, usually when in imminent danger of losing his life, you seem to have completely forgotten that he’s also hardworking, loyal, brave, sensitive to the feelings of others, unselfish and an extremely useful sort of bloke to have around.’
    â€˜Ingrid—’
    I carved him up. ‘To hell with your stubborn pride. I’ll do you a deal.
I’ll
act as go between. That’ll free Sergeant Outhwaite to get on with her job.’
    He just stared at me.
    â€˜Two for the price of one,’ I went on. ‘It’s hardly such a drastic step. I’ve worked with you both before.’
    â€˜But I usually ended up by reading the riot act.’
    â€˜So everyone will have to grow up, won’t they?’
    Carrick is not stupid. He knew as well as I that I would not be spending my time relaying messages or little notes from one to the other. What I would actually be doing was acting as a fender.
    â€˜This isn’t the first time I’ve done something like this,’ I told him. ‘When someone called Steve joined D12 and he and Patrick got off on the wrong foot. My presence helps – and then the problem goes away and people get on famously.’
    It had worked for most of the time. I had no intention of mentioning the occasion I had been operating undercover with the pair of them and had not been able to prevent them fighting like Kilkenny tomcats outside a pub near Petworth.
    There was a short, tense silence and then Carrick said, ‘I’ll think about it.’
    â€˜No,’ I said. ‘I want to know now.’
    He turned on his heel. ‘There’s work to do.’
    I tagged along – he had not actually told me to go away – and the three of us went through the wide entrance into the barn. Wisely perhaps, Lynn was keeping any opinions she had to herself.
    More lights had been rigged inside, like the others connected to a portable generator. In the harsh glare a dozen or more people, most wearing protective clothing, went to and fro and there were flashes as photographs were taken. This was taking place on the left-hand side of the interior, all of which was empty but for rubbish, a couple of stacks of old pallets and what appeared to be an overhead gantry of some kind. I discovered later that it had originally been used with a hoist to lift and move heavy round bales of hay, straw and silage, a dusty layer of which, mixed with manure, covered most of the floor. From this gantry three still figures were hanging and even from where I was standing I could see that the ground beneath them was a lake of blood.
    As we approached, one of those who were white-suited detached from the tableau and ducked under another cordon of tape to speak to Carrick. I recognized the pathologist, a professor of forensic science at Bristol University, Sir Hugh Rapton, from a book of his I had read. This was interesting: I thought he had retired from active