personality.
Golding despised burglars and petty thieves and he hated sex offenders, but he seemed to have an affinity with what he regarded as career criminals - bank robbers, big-time hoods. He was a prime candidate for the Serious Crimes Squad; they were also renowned for their ability to like - even admire - the people they were going to bang up.
Kate dismissed Golding from her mind. She normally would have had a message from Pat by now. He hadn’t been right for the last few days - he had seemed very edgy somehow. But she couldn’t think about that at the moment. She had too much else to worry about. This was murder, and she was starting to get a bad feeling about it all. For starters, why would two women decide overnight to try and murder their own children, and in such strange ways? People battered kids, they lost their temper with them, some people even tortured or harmed them. But to her knowledge nobody just upped and dumped them on building sites or in bin vans. Not while they were still alive, anyway.
Nothing shocked her any more, or so she had thought until today. She had honestly believed she was past shocking. But something here was all wrong, and she didn’t know what it was. Something was bugging her - really bugging her, but maybe it was just the circumstances. She thought of Christian and his little smiling face. Had his brother been dumped in a bin van too? Had he been alive when it had happened?
It was almost too awful to contemplate, the terrible fear young Ivor must have experienced. Kate became hot and clammy at the thought of it. Christ knows what the child must have felt, having it actually happen to him.
She shooed Golding from the room and sat alone, smoking a cigarette for a few moments. She needed to pull herself together and quick. She had some serious work ahead of her.
As she walked from the office her phone rang, but she ignored it. It would be Chief Inspector Ratchette for an update and at this moment in time she wasn’t ready to share anything with anyone. Not until she had sorted it out in her own mind.
A picture of her daughter Lizzy in a white dress at her third birthday party came into her mind. Kate pushed it away. This case was emotive enough as it was without making it any harder on herself by starting to judge the women involved.
As she had said to Golding, innocent until proven guilty.
Patrick heard the door shut and took a deep breath. Kate came into the drawing room like a gale-force wind. She kissed him hard on the mouth.
‘I needed that, Pat. What a bloody day.’
She looked tired and as she sat down on the sofa he went to her and removed her shoes. He rubbed her feet and she groaned with pleasure.
‘That is so good. I only have a couple of hours, for a shower and a quick change and then I’ve got to go back. A little boy was found at the dump - I expect you heard on the radio?’
He nodded sadly. ‘Any idea who did it?’
‘No - although it does seem as if the mother had something to do with it. She reckons she left her kids alone in their room - locked in, of course - while she did a moonlight as a prostitute. But whoever she works for must be pretty scary because she won’t say how she gets her contacts. Came home before lunch-time and they were gone. We had one kid by then. He’d been dumped by a woman fitting the mother’s description in a bin van. Looks like the dead child met the same fate. We’ve found his feet and torso so far.’
Patrick looked into her deep brown eyes. ‘Come to bed with me,’ he said softly.
Kate stretched out on the sofa and stared back into his eyes. She felt the pull of him. Ten minutes later they were in the shower, her legs wrapped around his waist while she had the climax of the century. As he came inside her she scraped her nails gently up his back, knowing it would drive him wild. When he collapsed against the side of the shower she started to laugh and he joined in.
‘Put me down before you drop
Golding despised burglars and petty thieves and he hated sex offenders, but he seemed to have an affinity with what he regarded as career criminals - bank robbers, big-time hoods. He was a prime candidate for the Serious Crimes Squad; they were also renowned for their ability to like - even admire - the people they were going to bang up.
Kate dismissed Golding from her mind. She normally would have had a message from Pat by now. He hadn’t been right for the last few days - he had seemed very edgy somehow. But she couldn’t think about that at the moment. She had too much else to worry about. This was murder, and she was starting to get a bad feeling about it all. For starters, why would two women decide overnight to try and murder their own children, and in such strange ways? People battered kids, they lost their temper with them, some people even tortured or harmed them. But to her knowledge nobody just upped and dumped them on building sites or in bin vans. Not while they were still alive, anyway.
Nothing shocked her any more, or so she had thought until today. She had honestly believed she was past shocking. But something here was all wrong, and she didn’t know what it was. Something was bugging her - really bugging her, but maybe it was just the circumstances. She thought of Christian and his little smiling face. Had his brother been dumped in a bin van too? Had he been alive when it had happened?
It was almost too awful to contemplate, the terrible fear young Ivor must have experienced. Kate became hot and clammy at the thought of it. Christ knows what the child must have felt, having it actually happen to him.
She shooed Golding from the room and sat alone, smoking a cigarette for a few moments. She needed to pull herself together and quick. She had some serious work ahead of her.
As she walked from the office her phone rang, but she ignored it. It would be Chief Inspector Ratchette for an update and at this moment in time she wasn’t ready to share anything with anyone. Not until she had sorted it out in her own mind.
A picture of her daughter Lizzy in a white dress at her third birthday party came into her mind. Kate pushed it away. This case was emotive enough as it was without making it any harder on herself by starting to judge the women involved.
As she had said to Golding, innocent until proven guilty.
Patrick heard the door shut and took a deep breath. Kate came into the drawing room like a gale-force wind. She kissed him hard on the mouth.
‘I needed that, Pat. What a bloody day.’
She looked tired and as she sat down on the sofa he went to her and removed her shoes. He rubbed her feet and she groaned with pleasure.
‘That is so good. I only have a couple of hours, for a shower and a quick change and then I’ve got to go back. A little boy was found at the dump - I expect you heard on the radio?’
He nodded sadly. ‘Any idea who did it?’
‘No - although it does seem as if the mother had something to do with it. She reckons she left her kids alone in their room - locked in, of course - while she did a moonlight as a prostitute. But whoever she works for must be pretty scary because she won’t say how she gets her contacts. Came home before lunch-time and they were gone. We had one kid by then. He’d been dumped by a woman fitting the mother’s description in a bin van. Looks like the dead child met the same fate. We’ve found his feet and torso so far.’
Patrick looked into her deep brown eyes. ‘Come to bed with me,’ he said softly.
Kate stretched out on the sofa and stared back into his eyes. She felt the pull of him. Ten minutes later they were in the shower, her legs wrapped around his waist while she had the climax of the century. As he came inside her she scraped her nails gently up his back, knowing it would drive him wild. When he collapsed against the side of the shower she started to laugh and he joined in.
‘Put me down before you drop
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