Free Killer Plan by Leigh Russell

simple. No one will ever find out it was you, as long as you’re careful. Don’t underestimate him and don’t take any chances. Whatever happens, don’t let him see you. If he sees you then we’re both screwed.’
    ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. What the hell do you want me to do?’
    ‘You’re going to kill the man who was fucking my wife.’
    Caroline had never been so frightened, not even when she had seen Dave’s body in the shed. Meanwhile Brian continued talking in a quiet monotone, like someone reading out a shopping list.
    ‘It’ll be best if you kill him in the street, in case you leave any traces, DNA and such. Listen carefully. Here’s what you have to do.’
    ‘You’ll never get away with it,’ she whispered when he had finished.
    ‘Oh, do stop fussing. No one’s going to know it was us. Not if you do it right. Now stop worrying. Listen, it’ll be fine. We got away with the last one without any bother, didn’t we?’
    Caroline gasped. Brian was completely demented. It seemed Dave’s death was just the beginning of his madness.

15
    Nick couldn’t help being aware of Geraldine when she was in their office. Her predecessor had been a rugged older male officer, a decent bloke, and far less distracting. Being attracted to a good-looking woman was nothing new, but he had never before pursued a woman who sat beside him every day, tantalisingly off limits. Despite the temptation to flirt, he couldn’t afford to make a fool of himself. They had been out together a couple of times, but it was impossible to work out what she thought of him. Once or twice she glanced in his direction and he dropped his gaze like an awkward teenager. He didn’t want her to see him watching her. He found it difficult to keep his eyes from lingering on her. Unconscious of his gaze, she sat like a beautiful statue, gazing at her screen. Several times he caught her staring fixedly at the window where a small patch of sky was visible, boxed into a corner. Usually he would have challenged her, ‘Penny for your thoughts.’ But he remained silent. Finally, against his better judgement, he turned to her and suggested they go for a drink later. She hesitated before agreeing. Her unexpected grin raised his spirits, and he returned to his mundane tasks with renewed enthusiasm.
    After work they walked round the corner to the nearest pub. It was a large saloon bar with a flickering mock log fire, red patterned carpet and rows of gleaming copper ornaments. A pleasant change from the fashionable bars closer to Central London, it prioritised comfort over style. Most of their colleagues dropped by from time to time, and a group of young constables were already there, chattering and joking. With a sigh, Nick thought back to his early years on the force, before he had risen up through the ranks to become an inspector. Back then life had seemed so full of promise. But that was before he had married Eve.
    ‘Cheer up.’ Geraldine’s voice reached him across the table.
    He smiled. She always seemed to understand how he was feeling. He wished he had taken her somewhere less public, but it was too late now to suggest they go to a quieter bar. They couldn’t leave without having at least finished their pints, and by then she would probably want to go home. There was a time when he would have been happy to have a drink or two with an attractive colleague, flirting and chancing his luck. Right now he just felt depressed.
    ‘Sorry,’ he muttered into his pint. ‘I’m a bit tired.’
    She saw through his words straight away.
    ‘Would you like to talk about it?’
    Her sympathy thrilled him. Their physical closeness no longer seemed important. He wanted to confide in her, tell her all about his miserable marriage, as though he was a child again and she could make him feel better. But he couldn’t share his wretched story in a place where they might be overheard or interrupted by colleagues. What he wanted to share was