The Devil's Moon Read Online Free PDF Page B

unofficial uniform was white T-shirt, jeans and leather jacket. She felt horribly overdressed.
    Lawrence looked as neat as ever in his usual uniform of a lightweight blue suit. He nodded at Gilchrist and smiled tightly. He glanced at her bandaged hand but didn’t comment.
    â€˜Sarah.’
    â€˜Jack.’
    He looked down at the chief constable’s secretary. ‘I think DS Gilchrist can go straight in, Tracy.’
    Tracy nodded and smiled at Gilchrist. ‘Hang your coat up over there.’
    Gilchrist put her coat on a stand and moved towards the door, nodding her thanks to both of them. She wondered what Lawrence had to do with her meeting with Chief Constable Karen Hewitt.
    She took a deep breath and knocked. Her future was about to be decided on the other side of it.
    â€˜Come,’ Hewitt called.
    Karen Hewitt had not been ageing well since she took over the role of chief constable from the disgraced Bob Watts. The stresses of the job had clearly worn her down. For months she had looked exhausted, her long blonde hair framing a lined, thin face. Gilchrist had always thought long hair on a woman in her late forties was taking a risk anyway.
    However, it was a month since Gilchrist had last seen Hewitt and she was startled to see a transformation. Hair bobbed, face fresher. Hewitt gave her a brief smile and scarcely a line creased her face. Gilchrist was thinking major makeover, wondering about Botox.
    Hewitt turned as stern as her new face perhaps would allow and invited Gilchrist to sit. ‘What happened to your hand?’
    â€˜Conger eel.’
    Hewitt nodded. ‘They’re saying it was a tornado.’
    â€˜Explanations are always good.’
    Hewitt clasped her hands. ‘Sarah, I’ll come directly to the point. You’ve been on suspension for a month and you’ve come in here expecting to hear about the disciplinary procedure against you for allegedly importing a volt gun illegally. A stun gun that your friend, Kate Simpson, used to kill a man who was viciously attacking her.’
    â€˜Yes, ma’am.’
    â€˜I’m aware that in the past couple of days, even whilst on suspension, you’ve been punctilious in reporting two criminal acts. One, the looting of a jewellery shop in the Laines in that hail of fish; the other the desecration of a church.’
    â€˜Yes, ma’am.’
    â€˜That punctiliousness would doubtless have been in your favour had there been a disciplinary procedure.’
    Gilchrist frowned. ‘Ma’am?’
    Hewitt seemed to be swallowing something that tasted bad. ‘There will be no disciplinary procedure.’
    Gilchrist was too surprised to say anything.
    â€˜Only because of a technicality,’ Hewitt added.
    â€˜Ma’am?’
    Hewitt unclasped her hands. ‘The volt gun has gone missing. It has either been mislaid or mis-registered in the evidence room. It cannot be located.’ Hewitt spread her hands. ‘No evidence, no disciplinary.’
    Gilchrist felt herself flushing. ‘I had nothing to do with its disappearance.’
    â€˜Did I say you did? Sadly, our evidence room is as porous as every evidence room I’ve ever known. And it is as chaotic. I wouldn’t be surprised if we had the identity of the Brighton Trunk Murderer misfiled in there somewhere.’
    â€˜I’m relieved to hear that, ma’am.’
    â€˜About the Trunk Murderer’s identity?’
    â€˜No, ma’am – though I believe that may recently have been established. I mean about my disciplinary.’
    Hewitt remained stern. ‘I’m sure you are. I hope, however, you have learned your lesson and there will be no repeat of such foolishness.’
    â€˜No, ma’am.’
    â€˜No?’
    Gilchrist lightly touched her bandaged hand. It had started aching. ‘I mean: yes, I have learned my lesson and no, there will be no repeat of the foolishness. Ma’am.’
    Hewitt’s smile