Broken Fall: A D.I. Harland novella (15 page)

They sat in silence for a moment.

Missing persons cases bothered him – too much uncertainty, too many possibilities. Without a body you couldn’t launch into a full-scale murder investigation, but the longer you waited to see whether the person would turn up safe, the greater the chances were that they wouldn’t.

‘I just wish we knew what we were dealing with,’ he murmured to himself.

‘You think she’s dead?’ Imogen spoke softly, without emotion.

Harland glanced across, studying her for a moment, then looked away.

‘It shouldn’t matter,’ he said.

‘Sir?’ She was frowning at him, puzzled.

Harland reached up to rub the back of his head.

‘We have to assume she’s alive until we hear otherwise,’ he explained. ‘We have to try.’

Imogen nodded slowly, then reached into her bag to retrieve her phone, which was buzzing.

Harland twisted in his chair, looking over his shoulder, back towards the café door, then reached into his jacket and drew out his cigarettes and lighter.

‘Do you mind?’ He turned to Imogen, then shot a guilty glance at the packet. ‘We’ve probably got a few minutes before the food comes …’

Imogen, staring at her phone, gave a non-committal shrug. ‘It’s your health.’

Harland hesitated, then frowned and closed the packet.

‘Oh no, I didn’t mean …’ Imogen looked up at him, eyes suddenly widening. ‘I was just kidding. Really.’

He gave her a wary look, then jammed the cigarettes back into his jacket pocket.

‘I’ll have one after we eat,’ he muttered. ‘Trying to cut down anyway.’

She stared at him, then put a hand across her mouth to stifle a snort of laughter.

‘I’m sorry, sir …’ She managed an embarrassed smile.

Was she laughing at him now?

‘What’s so funny?’ he asked, suddenly feeling foolish.

‘It’s not you, it’s just …’ Imogen shook her head, taking a deep breath to settle herself. ‘My first day working with someone new, and I
promised
myself I wouldn’t put my foot in it …’ She glanced down at her watch, then looked up at him with a wry smile. ‘Didn’t even make it past two o’clock.’

A nervous laugh.
It was the first chink in that guarded exterior, the first glimpse of who she really was.

‘I take it you’re a non-smoker?’ he asked dryly.

She nodded, putting her phone away.

‘Yes. My partner …’ A flicker of hesitation. ‘… used to smoke. But not now.’

‘My wife never liked it,’ Harland mused.

For a moment, he was somewhere else, years ago, promising he’d quit sometime, while Alice looked at him and nodded and didn’t believe a word of it. But he didn’t want those thoughts, not now, not today. He looked at Imogen. The mask seemed to have snapped back into place again.

‘Anyway,’ he said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. ‘When we’re done here, I want to go and speak to Matt’s neighbours.’

‘I thought Uniform had already been round there. You think there’s more to come?’

Harland shrugged.

‘I think it might rattle him a little, when he gets home and hears that we’ve been round asking questions. We’ll see.’

Imogen was looking over his shoulder towards the door.

‘Food’s coming,’ she said.

Harland had the all-day breakfast, while Imogen had a chorizo salad. The sun grew warmer as they ate, drawing a few more people out to occupy the tables around them.

‘So before the cold cases, you were working with Burgess?’ he asked.

‘Briefly, yes. You know him?’

‘Only to say hello to,’ Harland replied. ‘He was on that murder over in Durdham Down – a woman who was asphyxiated or something?’

Imogen held up a hand as she finished a mouthful of food, then swallowed.

‘With a plastic bag,’ she agreed after a moment. ‘And it was three women, actually.’

‘Really? I hadn’t heard that.’

Imogen nodded.

‘He linked it with two other similar killings, one in Gloucester, one in Swindon. All three woman were elaborately tied up, then raped. Sometimes, the killer used bleach to …’ She took a breath. ‘… clean them out, post-mortem.’

He watched her as she took another sip of her drink. She spoke dispassionately; the mask was firmly back in place now. He didn’t blame her; you couldn’t allow yourself to care too much about the people you were protecting, not in this job.

‘And that was what you were working on before moving on to this?’ he asked.

‘I get loaned out to all sorts of investigations.’ She toyed with her fork as she looked across at him. ‘You were working with Linwood and Pope?’

‘A murder at a nightclub in Stokes Croft, yes.’

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

‘Victim sealed up with superglue?’

Harland took a mouthful of food, then looked across at her, nodding as he chewed.

‘I know Andy Reed,’ she explained. ‘He was driving the area car that night.’

Harland swallowed.

‘It wasn’t pretty,’ he told her.

The sun had crept round, lighting up one side of the table. Harland moved his chair slightly to stay in the shade, but Imogen appeared happy to bask in the rays. There was something familiar about her, a vague feeling that grew as they ate, but he couldn’t quite place where he’d seen her before. Not at Portishead, certainly.

‘How long have you been with CID?’ he asked her.

‘Nearly two years,’ she replied.

Harland frowned.

‘Did they bring you in on the Redland murder?’

She looked up at him, that faint smile again.

‘For a little while, yes.’

‘That must be where I know you from.’

She nodded, taking a last forkful of salad from her plate.

Harland finished his meal and pushed the plate away, sitting back in his chair. The sun was warm, and the air still within the walls of the garden. He took out his cigarettes and placed the packet on the table. Imogen set down her knife and fork.

‘That was very good,’ she sighed. ‘Thank you, sir.’

‘You’re welcome,’ he told her.

A harried young woman emerged from the doorway behind them, and sat down a couple of tables away, holding a grumbling baby on her knee.

Harland toyed with his lighter as he looked across at them, then turned to Imogen.

‘You don’t have kids, do you?’ he asked absently.

‘No. Perhaps one day, but …’ She looked as if she was about to say something, then shook her head. ‘There’s a lot to think about.’

She was smiling now, but he recognised another carefully guarded response.

Across from them, the baby seemed to be quietening down. Harland put a cigarette in his mouth.

‘Do you have children, sir?’

He paused, lighter in hand.

‘No, we didn’t …’

He thought about Alice, about how he always assumed there was plenty of time – all those plans, all those things they’d discussed and looked forward to – just another part of his life that was lost …

Imogen was looking at him. It wasn’t her fault – she couldn’t have known – but the sunlit table had lost its charm and he was suddenly impatient to get back to work.

‘You’re very easy to talk to,’ he told her.
Too easy, in fact.

‘Sir?’

Harland put the cigarette back in the packet and scraped his chair back.

‘Come on,’ he frowned, getting to his feet. ‘Let’s go and see what you can coax out of Matt’s neighbours.’

* * *

Continue reading CUT OUT now … It’s available to purchase in ebook or print.

A D.I. Harland Investigation

If you look him in the eye, you’re dead.

From the outside, Robert Naysmith is a successful businessman, handsome and charming. But for years he’s been playing a deadly game.

He doesn’t choose his victims. Each is selected at random – the first person to make eye contact after he begins ‘the game’ will not have long to live. Their fate is sealed.

When the body of a young woman is found on Severn Beach, Detective Inspector Harland is assigned the case. It’s only when he links it to an unsolved murder in Oxford that the police begin to guess at the awful scale of the crimes.

But how do you find a killer who strikes without motive?

Out now in paperback and ebook

A D.I. Harland Investigation

The explosive sequel to
Eye Contact
.

He didn’t intend to let her get so close.

But now that Kim’s become important to him, Robert Naysmith decides to tell his girlfriend his deadly secret. He wants her to recognise the power he holds.

He hopes he won’t have to kill her.

Detective Inspector Harland hasn’t forgotten the serial killer who got away from him. But with nothing to go on, he fears he will never bring him to justice.

Until he is seconded to investigate the brutal murder of a woman in her Bristol home. A random attack, a murderer who has carefully covered his tracks … alarm bells start ringing.

Then Harland meets Kim. One last game of life and death is about to begin.

Out now in paperback and ebook

‘Seamlessly elegant high-concept crime novel. Brilliant – loved every minute of it.’ Sophie Hannah

‘A chilling game of cat and mouse that should keep you awake long after bedtime. DI Harland is a welcome addition to the growing ranks of British detectives.’ Peter Robinson

‘Creepy, compelling and completely convincing’ Erin Kelly

‘Let’s welcome Fergus McNeill to the ranks of British Crime fiction innovators; he has found a darker shade of noir’ Quintin Jardine

‘A gripping first novel’ Irish Independent

‘A great read and a chillingly clever insight into the mind and motives of a killer. Harland is a welcome new addition to the force of fictional coppers and McNeill a refreshing new voice in crime fiction; on the evidence of
Eye Contact
, we’ll be hearing a lot more from them both.’ Brian McGilloway

‘[A] cracking story, set in and around the Winchester/Salisbury area and has a cliff hanger ending which will, I hope, lead on to the next from this author. Great stuff.’
www.randomjottings.typepad.com

‘Atense, compelling and truly unputdownable read …
Eye Contact
is a novel that will have the reader losing track of time.’
www.itsacrimeuk.wordpress.com

‘A tense police procedural from a new author with a promising future in crime fiction’ Choice

‘A very impressive debut novel’ ****Star