Who is Sarah Lawson: A Captivating Psychological Thriller Read Online Free PDF

the dry tracksuit he’d brought with him, he sat on the floor to inspect the rubbish from the house in Bramble Lane. After lining the floor with plastic sheeting, he opened the small window. The room was not much larger than a store cupboard, with shelving units , containing stationary and office equipment, on either side almost meeting in the centre. Richie pulled on a pair of rubber gloves, opened the neck of the bin bag then tipped its contents on to the floor. The first thing he noticed was the lack of smell and rotting food scraps. Gingerly, he lifted up plastic containers, cardboard packing, empty beer and coke cans but the story was the same. Either the Lawson family permanently ate out or had an efficient food recycling system. He supposed there was always the faint possibility that they used the house infrequently and ate in another property altogether. He didn’t consider the latter premise in depth as it could be easily verified upon further investigation.
    Picking over the remnants scattered at his feet, he noticed a receipt from Marks and Spencer for food, an online delivery bill from Tesco and an empty champagne bottle. What had the Lawson’s been celebrating? He was beginning to think he was wasting his time when an envelope caught his eye. It was from Lloyds Bank; he recognised the logo on the reverse of the envelope. His clients’ bank account was held by Lloyds and it did cross his mind to consider the possibility that, if what Rowena Shaw had told him was true, then the Lawsons could easily have intercepted letters from her bank along with other relevant correspondence.
    Removing the champagne bottle with care, he placed it to one side then re-filled the bin bag and tied it securely. There was no reason why it shouldn’t go out with the office rubbish the following day. At his desk, he slid the bottle into the bottom drawer alongside the coffee cup bearing Rowena Shaw’s fingerprints then opened his laptop and updated his file.
    When Sandy arrived, the office bore no signs of its earlier use. Richie was still updating his computer, the kettle had just boiled and apart from the faint smell of wet clothing and his casual attire, there was nothing unusual.
    It was ten o’clock and Sandy was drinking her second cup of coffee when Richie rang through from the inner office. “Miss Smith , would you be kind enough to ring DCI Norman Freeman at the Met? You’ll find the number on file.”
    With her usual efficiency Sandy did as requested and Richie was soon talking to his old mate.
    “Good Lord, Richie, what a surprise. How are things? Still taking the bread from out of our mouths?”
    Richie smiled, Norm never changed. It felt good to hear his voice after so long. “Business isn’t exactly booming but I’m sticking with it. In fact that’s why I’m ringing. It’s about a case I’m working on.”
    “I see.”
    “I don’t like bothering you but I’ve no way of moving forward with this. It’s fingerprints; I’ve got two items requiring identification and elimination. I’m coming up to London in the morning and I wondered if you’d be able to meet me?”
    Richie heard the rustle of paper and guessed that his friend was looking through his desk diary. “ Yes, drop into my office about ten, your old mates would be glad to see you.”
    He hesitated,” I know this is a big ask, Norm, and I don’t want to make things difficult for you but could I meet you in the Bunch of Grapes at about twelve instead?”
    The thought of going to London made him break out in a cold sweat. He could feel it prickling his armpits and hastily wiped his damp forehead with his handkerchief. There were times when you just had to bite the bullet. If Andy Lawson and his wife were petty crims., their details would be held on the nationwide database, similarly if his client had a past, hers would resurface in the same manner
    Back in the storeroom, Richie picked up his damp tracksuit and pushed it into a plastic carrier,