The Kill Read Online Free PDF Page B

morning, the traffic was light. There was nothing moving on the little country roads that tracked through farmland and forest until we reached the main road, nothing except an occasional rabbit or fox streaking across the tarmac, a blur in Derwent’s headlights. I caught my breath at one near miss and it was all too audible in the silent car. Derwent’s hands tightened on the wheel.
    ‘Just so you know, if the choice is between going into the ditch and running over a rabbit, it’s going to be rabbit jam.’
    ‘Fine.’
    ‘They get plenty of warning. You must be able to hear the engine from a mile away at this time of night. If they’re stupid enough to run out in front of the car, it’s their problem.’
    ‘I didn’t say anything.’
    ‘No. You didn’t.’
    Silence settled on the car again. I was thinking about whether I had remembered to pick up everything I needed from the little hotel room with its smooth unused bed. I’d changed at lightning speed, leaving my dress in a heap on the floor with my heels as I struggled into the trouser suit I’d brought with me. Footwear was a problem; I hadn’t brought much that was suitable for scrambling around in the woods. I’d pulled on the boots I usually wore with trouser suits, hoping they would survive, wishing I had wellies. Mindful of the chill in the early morning air, I wore a thin jumper under my suit jacket. I’d brushed my teeth and scrubbed at the make-up that had settled under my eyes so I looked a little bit less like I’d been partying when the call came. I’d picked up my bag, which I’d left ready to go, complete with notebook, pen, gloves, torch and radio. Then I let myself out of the room and locked it. I hurried as quietly as I could through the dark up-and-down corridors that ran through the mismatched old buildings that made up the hotel. Then down the creaking stairs to the front door, where Derwent’s car sat with the engine running. I’d paused to hide the key in a flower pot where Rob could find it, then ran to the car. Five minutes, no more than that, and Derwent had still been frowning when I opened the passenger door and got in.
    ‘Leave your stuff on the back seat,’ was his only comment, as I arranged my jacket across my lap and tucked my bag into the foot well.
    ‘I’d rather not.’
    That got me a raised eyebrow first and a wolfish grin second as he worked out why I didn’t want anything belonging to me anywhere near the back of his car. I didn’t smile back.
    So, silence. Derwent whistled under his breath, a habit that always annoyed me, and I looked out of the window. He kept the car moving at a steady hundred wherever he could and I hoped we wouldn’t attract any bored traffic officers. It wasn’t that we’d get in trouble; it was just that it would hold us up. I wanted to get there quickly, but not because I was feeling particularly keen to find out what had happened to Terence Hammond. I wanted to get out of the fast-moving metal box where I was trapped with a man I—what? Disliked? I certainly felt uneasy around him. The Met didn’t believe in partnering up its detectives; it was pure chance that I ended up working with Derwent so often. Chance and a suspicion I had that Godley liked me to work with the inspector, believing, despite much evidence to the contrary, that I was a good influence on him.
    The A303 merged with the M3 and Derwent took up his rightful position in the fast lane. I didn’t dare look at the speedometer. Rob drove fast too, but I always knew he was in control of what he was doing. With Derwent, I had no idea if he was being careful or not. I wasn’t going to challenge him about the speed he was doing because it would only make him go faster, so I sat completely still and hoped he was concentrating.
    After a few miles, without warning, Derwent swooped from lane three to lane one in a single move. No indicator, but then there were no other cars on the road. I felt the seatbelt press against my