Free Gut Instinct by Linda Mather Page B

offensive. They weren’t oil paintings themselves.
    He wondered around looking the men up and down rather than the women, he needed to be careful else they’ll think I’m a puff, he thought.
    It was like looking for a needle in a haystack.
    Murderers didn’t come in a flasher Mac he pondered like most people think, they weren’t ugly men with a axe hidden inside their trench coat.  They looked like normal people, and not that this place was full of what he would call ‘normal’; it could be anyone of these guys in here.
    He didn’t know what he was looking for, perhaps someone like him, stood around observing; only Stephen was looking for a prospective suspect and the killer a potential victim.
    “Fancy a boogie love” some woman dressed in skin tight leopard pants and a top that barely covered her breasts was looking up at him.
    “No thanks, I’m no Fred Astaire” he replied, hoping that would get rid of her.  No such luck.
    “Well a drink then, mines a vodka and tonic” she purred, trying but not succeeding to look sexy.
    “Maybe another time” he said and hastily made a quick re treat.
    “Prick” he heard her say as he walked away.
    Very appealing, he reflected , wonder what charm school she went to!

 
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Seventeen
     
    Thankfully no-one else bothered him for the rest of the evening, and he was just about to leave when he saw a face he recognised. He dodged behind a pillar and studied the man stood at the edge of the dance floor.
    What the fuck was he doing down here, he questioned.  He never said he was coming and I certainly didn’t ask him to.  He was not down here on police business, so why was he down here ?
    Stephen stood back, so he couldn’t be seen and watched. 
    Paul was studying people; he seemed to be alone and was totally unaware that he was being watched.  Stephen was surprised that Paul hadn’t spotted him, but then looked around and saw the crowds around him and understood why.  He hadn’t noticed the place filling up, too busy people watching, focusing on dubious looking individuals.
    The n the same girl that had tried to pull him earlier in the evening had pulled Paul Spencer on to the dance floor and was gyrating her body all over him. He seemed to be enjoying it.
    Dark thoughts started to cross Stephens mind again , it was no t something that hadn’t happened before he thought.  Some crime or another had over the years been an inside job. 
    He then recalled his thoughts the other day ...even these criminology courses would describe how to get rid of DNA etc. 
    He had brushed them aside, thought he was being irrational and letting his feelings towards Paul get in the way of the investigation, but now he was down here at Jason’s without even mentioning it, surely if it was him he wouldn’t be that brazen, then he thought but psychopaths were like that, they believed that they were too clever to be caught.
    Then his rational mind stepped in, Paul could have come up with the same idea as he had, decided to have a wonder down and sniff about, perhaps he was a sad lonely bastard like he was on a Friday night.
    He stood silently observing.
    Paul was getting quite into this girl, stroking her hair, kissing her neck.  What the hell was going on? 
    His team were allowed to have a private life of course, but here, why would anyone come here unless they had to, like him.  And why hadn’t he mentioned that he used this club?
    Thoughts streaming through his mind he watched Paul leave the club with the girl in tow, clearly on a promise.
    What should I do? 
    Should I follow him?
    He ran these questions through his mind, alongside many more, many more indeed.
    He decided in the end not to go after him, he might see him and know that he was onto him if he was the killer or think that Stephen was stalking him if he wasn’t.
    However, if that girl turned up dead tomorrow he would know just who he would be pointing his finger at!
    Stephen eventually walked