Free DEAD & BURIED a gripping crime thriller full of twists by Helen H. Durrant Page B

him, the mark. He looked back. The nurse was on the phone, laughing.
    The tall man parked the wheelchair between the two beds. Wayne Davey was half asleep.
    “Wake up,” hissed the man, shaking Wayne Davey’s arm.
    Davey groaned and opened his eyes.
    “You’re in a bad way.” The man pulled the curtain around the bed. He gave Davey a cold grin. “That’s what you get for being a naughty boy. Shame you had to cop a bullet. It was nothing personal. It could have been any one of you. You should have been less visible.”
    Davey had no idea who the man was or what he was talking about. He wanted to shout for help, but he couldn’t. The anaesthetic had made his throat dry as sandpaper.
    “You and your mates are a liability. You’ve got loose tongues, the lot of you. Mr Costello can’t take any more risks.”
    Davey shook his head.
    Another icy smile. “That’s why you’ll have to go. It’s simply business. I stand to cop for a fortune if I get this right. If I don’t . . .” He drew a finger across his throat. “If you were in my shoes, you’d do the same.” He patted Davey’s arm. “I’ve invested too much in this already,” he whispered as if confiding. “I don’t plan on failing, and I don’t want any witnesses helping the police.”
    Davey’s eyes were wild with fear. He really didn’t have a clue what the man was on about and he was too petrified to ask. He’d never even seen him before. He wanted to get up, run for his life. He tried to inch out of the bed but he was stuck there. The plaster casts on both his legs saw to that.
    The man lifted the blanket. Davey noticed with a shudder that he had half a finger missing. “Not much use to you now, or anyone else for that matter. The man peered out between the curtains. There was no one around. The bloke in the next bed was sleeping and the nurse wasn’t at her desk. “I’ll make it quick,” he whispered, as if it was a kindness. “No hard feelings. Like I said, this isn’t personal.”
    “No! You can’t. I’ve done nowt! What d’you want?” Suddenly Davey’d found his voice.
    The man laughed.
    Davey closed his eyes. “Please. I’m no threat. What can I do in this state?”
    “You can talk, lad.”
    He felt the weight of the pillow as the man pushed it down on his face. Wayne Davey was terrified, too weak to fight. He was gasping for air, his arms flailing about wildly as the knife slid between his ribs and into his heart.

Chapter 8
    “My office!” Eliza King called out as soon as she spotted Calladine in the corridor.
    “It’s mine, actually.”
    She dismissed this with a wave of her hand.
    He wasn’t in the mood for a row and that’s all she seemed to want. “How can I help?”
    She closed the door behind them. “The Hobfield. Tell me about the place.”
    “It’s deprived, forgotten, somewhere people don’t talk about. It houses most of the criminals in this town. There used to be a pub there. Great fun on a Saturday night that place was.” He chuckled. “Kept uniform in overtime for years.”
    “If I wanted to find someone, where would I look?”
    “You’d have to tear the place apart. They stick together. Unless you’ve got some intelligence from uniform then it would be useless.” He saw her face fall. “Why? Lost someone?”
    She turned away. “Thank you, DI Calladine. You’ve been no help at all.”
    She had paperwork covering most of his desk. He could see a file marked ‘Costello.’ Calladine itched to get his hands on that, find out more about what she was doing here.
    “Please tell me you’ve not lost your informant?”
    Her face gave nothing away.
    “This has nothing to do with your team.”
    “It might have. Wayne Davey was kneecapped and Mick Garrett appears to be missing — Archer too.”
    Eliza King looked startled. “Someone should have told me sooner.”
    “Why? Do those names mean something to you?”
    “I don’t want to discuss that until I know more.”
    “I suggest you keep your