Neil White - Cold Kill

Neil White

Cold Kill

Contents

The evening was bright and warm, the sun dipping behind

It was a few days later when Jack Garrett got

It was just after nine-thirty as Laura McGanity looked around

Jack put his camera away as he watched the activity

Laura leaned against her car and peeled off her forensic

Jack was smiling by the time he reached the court,

Laura chewed her lip as Carson approached the home of

Laura tapped her pen against her hand as she sat

Laura was in Carsons slipstream as he rushed into the

Jack strode into the offices of the Blackley Telegraph, a

Jack had to park some distance from the police station

Carson waited until they were clear of the journalists before

Jack was sitting in his car, writing the story on

Jack checked the clock. Just gone nine. Bobby was playing

He rewound the footage again, as he had done for

Jacks movements felt sluggish as he read the words on

Light streamed through the open curtain, making Jack groan. He

Jack threw his car keys onto the table. Bobby was

Carson was first into the mortuary, pushing the door open

Jack went to the Blackley Telegraph office first. Dolby was

Laura checked her notes, just to make sure that she

Jack was outside the court when he managed to speak

Jack had texted Laura to let her know that hed

Laura sat at the back of the Incident Room as

The Incident Room was still busy from the lecture Carson

Laura glanced out of the car window and felt a

Jack was at the table, hunched over his laptop, writing

Laura was looking down as she started the jog up

Nothing was clear anymore. He drove quickly in the van,

Jack had finished the article for Dolby and was drinking

Jack looked out of the window. He was standing a

The morning arrived as a stream of sunlight through the

Jack had been distracted by the emails, because the first

Rupert glanced towards the building that had been his practice

Jack trotted across the road to the court building. He

Rupert checked his watch, nearly eleven-thirty, and looked up at

Some kids looked at Jacks car as he drove onto

The noise in his head was like a drum-roll as

Laura checked her watch as Joe drove along the Cleveleys

As Jack arrived home, he saw that there was someone

Adam Carter glanced around the house when he went inside,

Joe was on the phone to Carson, updating him, when

As the sound of Adams car disappeared into the hills,

The streets of Whitcroft seemed quiet as Jack drove onto

Jack continued to drive around the estate, looking for something

Jack drove around the estate, feeling better about his article.

Jack held up the wine bottle to the light. Probably

The morning had been a long time coming.

Jack woke up filled with determination, the emails fresh in

Laura leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes.

Jack paced up and down outside the entrance to the

Jack was still outside the police station, sitting in his

Emmas gate didnt offer much security, Jack thought. Old wood,

As Laura and Joe approached David Hoyles home, Laura shook

Jack was spotted as soon as he approached Mike Corleys

When they arrived at the police station, Laura didnt head

Jack ran into the Blackley Telegraph office, setting off the

Laura dropped Ida and her daughter at the rest home

Laura lifted her head off the floor and tried to

Jack was outside the bar that had once been called

Jack went for a drive.

Emma was sitting on her doorstep when Jack got there,

Carson drove quickly away from the station.

Don Roberts has got him, Jack said, as he drove

It was dark, almost pitch black, as Jack approached the

Carson banged on Dons door.

Strong hands gripped Jacks shoulders and pushed him against the

Carson waited outside Dons house, looking down the road. Laura

Carson had called up more marked cars and they were

Jack waited for the swing, for the drop, his nails

Laura ran for the front door. Carson and a uniformed

The next few days seemed to pass in a blur

The evening was bright and warm, the sun dipping behind the trees that lined the small copse between the houses, so that the light was filtered, the strips of brightness catching the loop and dance of midges that flitted between the leaves.

He looked at his watch. Nearly time. He knew her routine. Saturday night. A walk to the bus stop on the main road and then into town. She always passed the copse on her route, her head down, rushing to start her evening.

He paced, just out of view, his breaths fast, his chest tight with excitement. Thoughts of her came to him like whispers, so quiet that he could hardly hear them, but with each night they got stronger, so that the whispers became louder, like white noise, a rush, pressing him on.

He fought the urges sometimes, when his drive was low, but those moments were rare, and it was the images of her that drove him. Her hair, blonde and over her shoulders, gleaming against her pale skin. Her small upturned nose. Teeth bright and straight. He smiled to himself when he thought of her skin. Soft skin. Taut. Now that it was time, the noises pulled back, as if they were watching from the wings, breaths held in anticipation.

He knew this one would be different. It would be the strongest buzz of all. No buried body. No burnt out car. No trips to the lake, bound up in chains. This was going to be the best, because he knew it had always been leading to this.

He could almost hear her. The flick of her hair in the breeze, the rustle of her clothes as she walked. Then he realised that the tap-taps he could hear were not the fast drums of his heartbeat or the hum of his pulse. They were the click of her heels, fast steps that seemed to echo along the quiet suburban street. His breaths became deeper through his nose, his chest rising and falling, and he felt himself grow hard. He checked his gloves. No rips. No tears. Nowhere for any trace evidence to escape. He thought about his movements one last time. He had thought of little else all week.

It was time.

He started walking as the clicks got louder, so that he would be on the same side of the street as her when she appeared. As she came into view, she gave him a nervous look, but then she noticed the polo shirt, the police crest on his breast, and the black-and-white ribbon around his cap, a black soft-top.

He smiled, a quick flash of his teeth, and stepped on to the road, so that she stayed on the pavement, the copse to her side. Evening, he said, as she got closer. His words almost caught in his throat as her perfume drifted towards him. The scent of flowers, light on the breeze. He had to stop himself from reaching out to run a finger along her neck. Dont go too soon.

She flickered a smile at him but then looked down again. He followed her gaze. Short black skirt. Legs shaved smooth, tapered into silver heels. He had to swallow, his heartbeat fast, his mouth dry.

His hands were on his belt, fingering for the release of his cuffs. He had practised the move until it was perfect. Speed was key. He had to cut down on the noise.

She was alongside him now. He looked quickly along the street. There was no one around. There were houses, but why would anyone be looking out? If he was quick, they wouldnt suspect anything.