The Patient Man by Joy Ellis (DI Jackman & DS Evans #6)
English | 2020 | Mystery & Thriller | ePUB | 2.9 MB
JACKMAN AND EVANS’ MOST DANGEROUS ENEMY IS BACK TO FINISH THINGS OFF
The domestic bliss of Detective Inspector Rowan Jackman of Fenland Constabulary doesn’t last long. His nemesis, serial killer Alistair Ashcroft, is back in town and ready to tidy up unfinished business.
Ashcroft sends a sinister text to DS Marie Evans. His opening move in what will prove to be a lethal game of cat-and-mouse. Yet for all his taunts, where is he? In a county crawling with police on the lookout for him, Ashcroft is nowhere to be found.
EVERYONE JACKMAN CARES ABOUT IS IN DANGER
Alongside the hunt for Ashcroft, normal police work must continue. The separate thefts of guns, six pigs, a thoroughbred stallion and some oil lead Jackman’s crew to the notorious Lorimer family, ruled over on their farm by the fearsome matriarch Rachel.
Meanwhile, a seemingly routine break-in at the home of gun-club owner Kenneth Harcourt quickly becomes more complicated when the man long held responsible for having killed Harcourt’s young daughter in a hit-and-run is shot dead in a carpark — by a sniper.
A killer is on the loose in the quiet streets of Saltern-le-Fen and he isn’t going to stop at claiming one life. But why is he focusing on young Kevin, so close to promotion to detective?
A LETHAL GAME WITH A VERY PATIENT MAN
And the sniper, like Ashcroft, takes to taunting the police: they’ll never catch him, they need to respect him, they shouldn’t be side-tracked looking for their old adversary.
In a stunning conclusion, Jackman and Evans race against time to catch the sniper and track down their deadly adversary.
Marie walked into his office wearing a deep turquoise silk shirt. Jackman felt relief flooding through him. So much for his dream.
‘Good grief!’ Marie exclaimed. ‘How long have you been in?’ She stared at the pile of paperwork in his out tray.
‘Oh, a while.’
‘You’ve been reading up on feng shui again, haven’t you, sir? Clear your clutter and promote a tidy mind.’ Marie grinned at him. ‘Or is the super breathing down your neck for results?’
‘Neither, actually. Just couldn’t sleep. And this lot,’ he pointed to the paperwork, ‘was haunting me.’ He returned her grin. ‘How was the day off yesterday?’
‘Brilliant, boss. I took the new bike for a spin. She handles amazingly.’
‘Ah, this one’s a girl, is it? How come?’
‘Well, after Harvey was annihilated, I decided I’d try a new line, if you know what I mean. We went to Cromer, had the best crab lunch ever, and drove back before the traffic got too bad. It was the perfect day.’
‘And her name?’ asked Jackman.
‘Not sure yet, sir. But she’ll tell me when she’s ready. So, I’m all refreshed and raring to get to work. What’s first?’
‘After a strong coffee and the morning meeting, you and I are going to visit a certain Mr Kenneth Harcourt, at a house named Wits’ End. How does that sound?’
‘Wits’ End? Is he some kind of nutter? The coffee sounds good but I’m not too sure about someone who calls their house that.’
‘Well, I hope he’s no nutter, because he owns that private gun club out on Bartlett’s Fen. Someone attempted to break into it yesterday.’
‘What? The Fenside Gun Club? That’s pretty snobby.’ Marie raised her eyebrows. ‘Actually, very snobby indeed. So, what happened?’
‘Last night there was a break-in at his home. Most likely it was the same bunch of villains who’d failed to get into the club earlier that day.’
‘Okay, I’ll go and get those coffees and you can fill me in on what we know so far.’
Jackman watched her leave, wishing he could shake off the remnants of his nightmare. That feeling of doom. It was like a film clip played on a loop in his head. It just wasn’t like him to be so unsettled by a stupid dream.
He stacked the final reports in his out tray and heaved a sigh of relief. At least they were done. Now they could concentrate on the petty crimes and, hopefully, in a couple of days they would see daylight.
Marie returned with coffee and he told her what uniform had reported following their visit to the gun club and Kenneth Harcourt’s home. ‘Whoever tried to get into the gun club underestimated the security they have there. The CCTV images showed a couple of rough-looking scrotes who obviously had little previous experience of breaking and entering. It’s thought they were chancers who bit off more than they could chew. We’ve got some pretty good pictures, but no faces. As you can imagine, they were wearing the usual hoodies.’