The Doll's House: DI Helen Grace 3 Read Online Free PDF

thing. Jake as her lover was something else altogether. That was over twelve months ago now and Jake seemed to have swallowed his obvious disappointment and accepted a return to the status quo.
    But as Helen pulled the banknotes from her purse, Jake stopped her.
    ‘Don’t.’ It was simply said, but with emotion.
    ‘Come on, Jake, you’ve earned it.’
    ‘This one’s on the house,’ he replied, smiling awkwardly.
    Helen looked at him. Was this a genuine one-off – an act of friendship – or was this the first move in something more concerted? Helen didn’t know what had prompted this change of tack, but she didn’t like it.
    ‘I insist,’ Helen countered, thrusting the notes into Jake’s hand.
    ‘Helen –’
    ‘Please, Jake, it’s been a hard day. Take it.’
    She turned and left – she didn’t have the stomach for a fight. The last twenty-four hours had been extremely tough and though it was still early days in the investigation, Helen sensed that the worst was yet to come. The storm clouds were gathering and she knew from bitter experience that she couldn’t fight on too many fronts at the same time. She walked back to her bike, never once looking over her shoulder. Despite this, she knew full well that Jake was watching her from the window, every step of the way.

14
    DC Sanderson pressed the doorbell firmly and braced herself for what was to come. She had risen early and been on the M2 by 7 a.m., heading east towards Kent. Ruby Sprackling had only been missing for thirty-six hours but Sanderson was already seriously concerned.
    Having arranged to meet her mother to rubberstamp her long-sought family reconciliation, Ruby had unexpectedly vanished. She had written a brief email to her landlord giving notice, then sent a single tweet to family and friends announcing that she was taking off. This from a young woman who was remorselessly sociable, a girl of the Twitter generation who lived her life in the open, tweeting her every thought, reproach or epiphany. More suspicious still was the fact that her phone had been turned off since she disappeared. For her phone to be out of commission for that long suggested she either didn’t want to be found or no longer had the phone in her possession. A nagging fear in Sanderson suggested it was the latter.
    Her birth mother, Shanelle Harvey, lived in a rundown block of flats in Maidstone. Sanderson had visited some rough places in her time, but Taplow Towers really wasan armpit – bursting with sink estate mums and blokes on day release. Sanderson’s mood plummeted as she surveyed the large penis spray-painted on Shanelle Harvey’s front door.
    Footsteps, then the front door opened a sliver, the chain firmly on.
    ‘DC Sanderson, could I have a word?’
    Shanelle Harvey looked at her visitor, cleared her throat unpleasantly (the result landing close to Sanderson’s left foot) before reluctantly opening the door.
    Inside was worse than out. A sea of cardboard boxes, probably full of knock-off gear, littered the place. There was little room for the usual decoration of a family home. In fact, the only ornaments Sanderson could see were ashtrays, overflowing with the butt ends of hundreds of unbranded cigarettes. The place stank of stale smoke – Sanderson would gladly have opened a window, if she could get to one.
    ‘Nothing to do with me.’
    Shanelle was quick to deny any involvement in Ruby’s disappearance.
    ‘But you don’t deny having had contact with her recently?’
    ‘Might have done.’
    Shanelle had the weary experience of a professional chancer, determined not to admit responsibility for anything.
    ‘We can check your phone records, Shanelle, so let’s cut the bullshit, shall we?’ Sanderson continued.
    ‘Ok. I seen her on and off for the last two years. She used to like coming here. I’m a bit less stuck up than the other lot.’
    ‘Her parents?’
    ‘If that’s what they like to call themselves. Always on at her they were, telling her