Free The History Suite (#9 - The Craig Modern Thriller Series) by Catriona King Page B

what’s going on in his unit.”
    Craig nodded. It was a good point. Why hadn’t someone told Taylor that it was Eleanor Rudd who was dead? Ken carried on.
    “Then we met with Dr Winter and he confirmed Taylor’s self-absorption.” He gave Craig a puzzled look before he made the next comment. “The Super asked Dr Winter if whoever had strangled our victim had been wearing a ring.”
    He handed back to Craig who smiled.
    “The killer wasn’t wearing any rings. There would have been a mark on Eleanor Rudd’s neck if they had been.”
    Davy cut in. “That’s why you wanted to know if Adrian Cooke was married.”
    “Yes. Taylor is and unfortunately he wears a ring to prove it.”
    Liam was the next to interrupt. “Taylor could have removed it before he strangled her.”
    “He could have, but his reaction when he heard it was Rudd who’d died makes me believe not. The ring was just a grope in the dark.”
    Annette shook her head. “Not true, sir. If whoever strangled Ellie Rudd didn’t wear any rings, that’s something. Yes, they could have removed them before they killed her, but how likely is that in the heat of the moment, and why bother if they were wearing gloves?”
    Craig shrugged. “That’s supposing Rudd was killed in the heat of the moment, Annette. Someone could have been waiting for her for hours. That’s what makes Davy’s movement-mapping essential. We need to rule people in or out of that linen room area between nine and eleven o’clock.”
    He nodded at Ken to continue but his face was blank. “I don’t think there’s anything else, sir. Except that we’re awaiting the victim’s tox-screen from the lab.”
    Craig straightened up briskly. “OK. Davy, you know what to do. Carmen, you know your way around computers, can you help Davy with the checks? Jake and Liam, go back to the unit tomorrow and see how quickly you can get through the rest of the interviews, Ken and Joe can help.”
    Annette gave a little wave. “What can I do?”
    Craig made a face. “You’re coming with me to see Eleanor Rudd’s grieving family.”

Chapter Four
     
    Holywood, County Down. 10 p.m.
     
    Craig pushed a strand of spaghetti around his plate until it finally split in two. He selected another, repeating the routine while he thought about the case. A metal spoon rapped his hand, brutally interrupting his ruminations; Mirella Craig hadn’t spent hours bent over a steaming pot of pasta for her son to play with it! In fact she hadn’t spent hours bent over anything, it had only taken her thirty minutes to prepare dinner, but that wasn’t the point.
    As Craig yelled “Ow!” she swooped in and grabbed his plate, depositing its contents in the bin.
    “I was eating that!”
    Mirella faced her first born with her hands on her ample hips and began to berate him in a half-Italian, half-English stream. The English part said.
    “You play with food, no eat it. You must no like.”
    The Italian half was less polite but Craig could see both of them about to bring on tears. His mother was a volatile Roman Italian, made even more volatile by her creative musician side. She might have retired from being a concert pianist, but her artistic temperament definitely hadn’t been put out to grass.
    He rose and gave her a hug, under the amused gazes of his laid-back father and sister, who were both about to laugh. He shot them a warning look and mollified his mother by taking a fresh plate of food. As Craig tucked in Mirella squinted suspiciously at him.
    “So! It wasn’t that you no like food. You think of murder! At my table you think of murder!”
    She swung towards her husband looking for support, but Tom Craig was gazing eagerly at his son.
    “What’s the case, son? Is it the one at the hospital?”
    Craig was puzzled. “How did you hear about it?”
    Craig Senior waved towards the TV. “It was on the News.”
    Craig sighed heavily. Great, the media had got hold of it, now they’d be crawling all over the