Under a Silent Moon Read Online Free PDF Page A

anytime soon.”
    â€œAnd what about the body in the car?”
    â€œWaiting for PM.”
    â€œThanks, Ron. I’ll leave that one with you.”
    Ron was slightly red in the face. Lou guessed it had been a good few years since he’d been able to play a trump card in an initial briefing. “Barry? Back to you. How’s the intel looking?”
    Barry Holloway was the most experienced member of her team as far as Major Crime was concerned. He’d been the reader in more MIRs than she could count.
    â€œThanks. Right. Pin your ears back, chaps. We’ve got a witness who thinks he saw a car going over the cliff last night. That came in on the box while you were talking, ma’am. And something from Crimestoppers. An anonymous caller saying Polly Leuchars was having an affair with someone in the village. Another Crimestoppers call suggesting we might want to look closer at the Fletcher-Normans—well, we’re ahead of the game on that one. Mrs. Maitland says that Polly went on a shopping trip to Briarstone yesterday lunchtime, was gone three hours or so. We’ll get CCTV, see if we can track her movements. I had a look on ANPR for Polly’s plates—no results unfortunately, but then the back road into Briarstone isn’t covered unless the mobile camera unit happens to be there. We’ve got a sighting of Polly in the Lemon Tree last night. She left before closing time, so we’ll need to interview the regulars, see who she was meeting. And two reports of a car revving and driving away at speed during the night not far from the cottage. We’ll get more tomorrow morning after the press conference.”
    â€œRight.” Lou had almost forgotten that she was going to be broadcast to the nation tomorrow morning and felt a lurch of nausea at the prospect. It would be nice to be able to go to the press conference with a firm picture of what had happened to their victim.
    â€œCan we see what the latest is on Nigel Maitland?”
    â€œAlready checked that,” Barry said. “Nothing recent. I’ve got a source tasking in.”
    â€œWhat about the house-to-house?”
    â€œJane Phelps is organizing that; she’s still out there with Les. I spoke to her before we came in, and it’s all village gossip so far, no dramas. She said she’d ring in when they’re done. Patrols did most of it this morning before we got there, anyway. She’s going round again to make sure.”
    â€œThanks. Well, that’s about it for now. Any questions?”
    Murmurs, everyone itching to get on with it.
    â€œRight. Next briefing tomorrow morning, eight sharp. I’m talking to the press at nine, so let’s see if we can stay ahead of them. Okay. Let’s go.”
    A moment of quiet, and then the shuffling of chairs, rustling of papers, laughter, voices. A few handshakes, people who’d been off working other areas and found themselves back on the team together.
    Lou let out a long, slow breath, dealt with the few people who came up to her afterward with comments, suggestions, or ideas that they hadn’t felt brave enough to pipe up with in the briefing.
    Then there was only one person left, someone she didn’t know, leaning casually against the back wall, arms crossed, giving her his complete and undivided attention. He had dark hair, broad shoulders, and—most disconcerting of all—a black eye.
    â€œCan I help you?” she asked, wondering with a snap of fear if someone had been in the briefing who shouldn’t have been.
    â€œI’m Jason Mercer.”
    She’d forgotten the name but there was no mistaking that accent. Shit! Had she been really rude to him on the phone earlier? A warm flush spreading across her cheeks, she decided there was only one way to play this: pretend it never happened.
    â€œHi. Did you have any luck finding me an analyst?” she asked, shaking his hand. His was warm, his grip firm. He