Zorilla At Large! Read Online Free PDF Page B

satisfactory resolution, catch the killer, catch the zorillas, and then things could get back to something approximating normality.
    He became aware that someone had entered the office. Lindsey, probably. Bringing the coffee he’d asked for. Silly girl had never grasped the basics of office etiquette, like knocking the bloody door.
    And now she was hovering, instead of just putting the mug down and buggering off. All right, she was a volunteer and the zoo was grateful for all the volunteers and their efforts but honestly-
    He straightened in the chair and opened his eyes. His mouth hung open, the castigation he’d intended to level at doe-eyed Lindsey died in his throat.
    There was no one there. Furthermore, there was no mug of coffee on his desk.
    Useless girl. What was she doing, harvesting the beans herself?
    He got to his feet. It looked like he was going to have to make his own bloody coffee.
    It was an outrage.
    No, it’s not, he scolded himself. It’s been a tough couple of days. You’re overwrought. It’s not Lindsey’s fault. Perhaps there’s some decaff...
    Before he could open the door, a shadow loomed over him as the figure that had been squatting out of his line of sight drew itself up to its full height. Jeff spun around. The furry figure towered over him.
    â€œWhat the-”
    Jeff never got to complete his question. The furry figure slashed at him with its front limb. Clutching at his throat, Jeff dropped to his knees, and then fell flat on his face. His lifeblood pumped from his severed vessels and pooled around his body.
    The furry figure stepped over him and left.

Chapter Four
    It fell to doe-eyed volunteer Lindsey to inform the police of Jeff Newton’s murder, with an efficiency and presence of mind hitherto unseen. Within the hour, the office was sealed off and crawling with Forensics, and Chief Inspector Karen Wheeler was about to blow her top.
    â€œWhat the fuck is going on in this place?” she seethed. “Have the animals taken over the fucking asylum?”
    Brough and Miller, who had been just a couple of hundred yards away at the Railway Hotel, were keeping out of her eye line. They had arrived before the Chief and had so far ascertained that no one had seen a thing.
    â€œWank me with a hanky! You’re supposed to be detectives. De - tec - tives! Do you know what that fucking means? You detect things.”
    â€œI’ll - we’ll talk to the p.a.,” offered Miller. “The girl who found him.”
    â€œIt’s a fucking start, I suppose.”
    â€œAnd when Forensics have finished, we’ll talk to them.”
    â€œYes, Miller.” Wheeler jerked her head towards Brough who, so far, had contributed nothing. “What’s up with Fairy Fuckface then?”
    Not even the homophobic slur could rouse D I Brough from his thoughts. Wheeler rolled her eyes. She considered stamping on his foot but there were policies against that kind of thing, apparently. She supposed there were policies about calling a gay detective Fairy Fuckface too. Well, more like guidelines, really.
    â€œAny word from Tweedledum and Tweedle-fucking-shitwit?”
    â€œPattimore and Stevens?”
    â€œNo, Miller. The Dalai Lama and the Pope.”
    Miller pursed her lips. “Not a sausage, Chief. Still running around after the weasel thing, I expect.”
    â€œFuck the fucking weasel. Tell them I want them up here. The murder of a fucking human being is more important than some furry-arsed prick running around.”
    â€œYes, Chief.” Miller pulled out her phone. She’d call Jason rather than that wanker Stevens - although she did feel somewhat disloyal for still having Brough’s ex’s number. Oh, grow up, Melanie, she told herself. You have the number for professional purposes only.
    And it’s no business of Brough’s whose numbers you have in your contacts folder.
    â€œHello, Mel!” Pattimore answered at