We Are Death Read Online Free PDF

of about a hundred. A farmworker on his way to start the day, he presumed.
    He turned back to look at the trees, pulling the wheels of his bike another inch or two away from the road. He was aware of the sound of the car slowing down as it approached him, which he presumed was the guy being polite, so he pulled the bike slightly further away again, even though he was already completely off the road.
    The car stopped beside him. Someone else looking at the view, or asking for directions. The roads around this part of the Levels were labyrinthine, although generally there were signposts at every junction.
    Carter turned, saying ‘Morning,’ as he did so. The word was out his mouth before he saw the gun. He probably wouldn’t have been so polite if he’d known about the gun.
    The bullet entered through his forehead and exploded in his brain. Carter fell, dead, in the same instant. His killer looked down at him for a few moments, then placed the gun in the pocket of the driver’s door and slowly drove on in the direction of the old sawmill.
    *
    H oagy Carmichael was still playing. Somewhere. Why was Hoagy still playing? Hadn’t he turned him off? Wasn’t Hoagy gone from his life?
    Maybe he was there himself, sitting in the front room, playing the piano, singing, a shirt and tie, grey trousers, and a cigarette dangling from his lips. But that didn’t make sense, as Jericho didn’t have a piano in his front room. Jericho had never owned a piano.
    What was that tune? Judy maybe. Was it Judy ? The words sounded unfamiliar. And the phone was ringing. That didn’t make sense either, because the phone didn’t usually ring during Judy .
    Finally, on perhaps the thirteenth ring, Jericho lifted his head off the pillow, his eyes open, sweat on his brow. There was no music. There was no Hoagy. His mobile, set to ring until he answered it or the caller cut off, was still going.
    He looked at the phone, breathing heavily. It was the station, of course. 06:27. Something had happened, which seemed unusual for Wells. Maybe the fight outside the King’s Head in the middle of the night had taken a slightly less pleasant turn than usual.
    He lifted the phone, still feeling discombobulated, but didn’t speak. Constable Loovens at the other end did not expect Jericho to say anything, so he didn’t wait, quickly rattling off details of what had just been reported from out on the Marshes.
    Jericho listened and then hung up. He hadn’t said a word. He left his head on the pillow for a few moments, then sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, took a moment to curse that it seemed no cooler this morning than it had the night before, and headed through the house to the shower.

7
    ––––––––
    T he road end had been closed off about half a mile from where the body lay. Jericho sat idling in his car, as Constable Drew waved him through, then decided to park at the junction and walk along. He got out of the car, left the windows open and stood for a moment, taking in the surroundings.
    It had been a while since he’d been down this way. Hills on either side, and in the middle the large plain of land that had been recovered by Dutch engineers in the sixteenth century.
    He nodded at Drew, who looked too hot already in his stab-proof vest, long sleeves, and long trousers. He wouldn’t want to be standing here for too long, even this early in the morning.
    ‘Who have we got along there?’ asked Jericho.
    ‘Sergeant Haynes, Constables McGuire and Pettigrew, sir,’ Drew said. ‘And Dr Trueblood, sir.’
    Jericho, his hands in his pockets, glanced harshly at him, shaking his head.
    ‘How’d she get here already?’
    ‘Staying in Wells last night, I believe.’
    He grunted a reply, took another look around, and then started walking along the road. Glad to take the few minutes to get a feel for the place. He liked Trueblood, aware that his defensiveness about her presence was at the thought of her getting here from Taunton