Death's Cold Hand, J.E. Mayhew [book club recommendations .txt] 📗

“George?” Blake called when he got close enough. “Are you okay?”

“Don’t come near me,” Owens said, waving the knife in Blake’s direction. “Leave me alone. I’m ending this. It’s over for me.”

“I can’t leave you, George, you know that,” Blake said. “What’s happened?”

Owens threw Blake a disgusted stare. “What’s happened? My best friend has been murdered and now another member of staff too. That’s what’s happened.”

“I know that, George but what good is killing yourself going to do?”

“I deserve to die, Blake. It’s all my fault.”

Chapter 37

Kinnear’s house lay on a small, modern estate just on the edge of Knowsley by the M57. It was a detached, three-bedroomed property and they kept it spotless. Or rather, Chris did. A typical teacher, Chris was ruthlessly organised. Every activity was mapped out on year planners, things were stored in labelled boxes and woe betide a fleck of dirt that landed on the polished floor. Having said that, the mere presence of Kinnear meant that Chris was fighting a constant battle against entropy, so the house was always homely.

Right now, Kinnear sat in the car, not wanting to get out. He had come home early to go through some adoption papers with Chris. How could he go prancing in there and pretend he was all for this when he had so many reservations? He should have spoken earlier but that was no reason to be dishonest now. Chris deserved the truth. With a sigh, Kinnear climbed out of the car.

Chris had set out all the papers on the table so that Kinnear could look over them. He gave Kinnear a hug and settled him down.

“Okay, so these are declarations about convictions and health,” Chris said, leaning over Kinnear’s shoulder. “I’ve managed to cover up your drug cartel years, but they found out about your fungal infection…”

Kinnear smiled, wearily. Chris sounded so excited. “Listen, Chris,” Kinnear said, resting his hand on top of his husband’s. “I’ve been thinking…”

Chris hugged him. “I’ve told you about that, Andrew. It does you no good. You’ll start wondering about the role of the police in a modern society and the effectiveness of prisons and then where will you be?”

“Just listen. I-I’m not sure we should do this. We’re both so busy and my hours are so unpredictable. How can we bring up a child?”

Chris settled into the chair next to him. “What brought this on, love?”

“It all happened so fast. And there’s work. We’ve been chasing these feral kids all week and it just made me think what kind of family life they might have. Honestly, if you saw some of the depravation and squalor and the useless parents…”

“But they aren’t us, are they, love? What we’re doing is lifting someone, a small child, out of that situation and giving them a chance.”

“And how are we going to do that with the hours we work?”

“I’m going part time, aren’t I? And your mum and dad are dying to help out. Mine too. Blimey, Andy, I thought we discussed this so many times. Were you just smiling and nodding while I went through it all with you months ago? Why didn’t you say sooner?”

“I was listening, but it just didn’t seem real. Now we’re a few weeks away from actual adoption and I don’t know. Is that so wrong?”

Chris pursed his lips for a second. “No. It’s not wrong. I just wish you’d got your head straight before we went so far down this road. I thought we were committed to Niamh. We were going to do so much for her…”

“But what if I get injured or even worse?”

“I don’t know, Andy. What if you do? What if I do?”

“I’m more likely to get…”

“I know that but it’s a risk I’m happy to take. And make no mistake, if you were killed, it would be me who would be left behind to cope and help Niamh. But that won’t happen and you can’t go through life expecting it to, can you?”

“No but…”

“Listen Andy, I work with some kids who have been dealt a really shit hand from the start. You know that. I see them too, every day and I know how hard life is for them. I work with kids who have busy, hard-working parents who love them, too. Those kids are safe and secure. It’s not being busy or taking a risk that changes a child’s life. It’s how much they’re loved.”

Kinnear smiled and hugged Chris tight. “I face angry bruisers and criminals all the time, but this scares me witless.”

“If you really don’t think you can go ahead, then that’s fine. It’ll break my heart but I love you. But we aren’t doing this alone and you don’t have to be frightened.

Chapter 38

It struck Blake that George Owens’ current predicament summed up the man’s life so far. Dutch courage to help him do something he probably wasn’t going to, a knife he wouldn’t use and a drop that might kill him but, in reality, he didn’t want it to. Owens had been told what to do all his life. He was a half-measures kind of man. Blake didn’t think he’d actually kill himself but people were full of surprises, so he had to be careful.

“What do you mean, this is all your fault?” Blake said, sitting down a few feet away from Owens. “All what?”

“The deaths, the state of Pro-Vets. I should have stood up to Paul. I should have said, ‘no,’ a few more times when he went on about expanding the charity all the time.”

“I’m sorry, George, you’ve lost me. How are those things connected?”

“Shut up! I know what you’re doing. You’re just trying to confuse me.”

Blake could smell the alcohol even from this distance. “I’m just trying to work out who killed Paul and Quentin, that’s all and you said it was your fault. So, before you throw yourself off the roof, would you mind explaining what the hell is going on?”

“You’re not meant to talk to