Free Weekend in Weighton Final Amazon version 12-12-12 by Unknown Page A

why? The killer wanted me to find the body, yet it wasn’t much of a set-up if that was the purpose. Nothing else tied me in. Nothing made sense.
    ‘I think you’re holding out on me,’ said Hobbs. ‘There’s something you’re not telling. Just look at you. You’re a mess. It’s got to be connected.’
    ‘If I really thought I could help, I would. Believe me. But I can’t.’
    ‘You mean won’t.’
    ‘Izzzz the wrong answer.’
    Hobbs put his hands to his chin and stared at me like he was trying to read my mind. ‘Shall I tell you what I think?’
    ‘Take to the field.’
    ‘I don’t think you had anything to do with the murder. But you know more than you’re telling. Someone out there’s applying an awful lot of pressure to keep it that way. We’re under maximum pressure to get a result, and presently you’re all we’ve got. If we have to, we’ll make it stick. All we have to do is assert a motive. Believe me, it won’t be a stretch. Your only chance is to level with me. I’ll help you. We’ll protect you.’
    I let out a low wheeze. ‘You couldn’t protect the Terminator.’
    ‘Eddie, face facts. You’re way, way out of bounds on this. Let us handle it. On your dad’s life, I promise I’ll look after you. Trust me.’ His eyes worked at mine.
    I stood and scuffled over to the door. ‘This is the bit where you let me go.’
    He spoke, but didn’t turn around. ‘You’re out of your depth.’
    ‘Let me out, and we’ll soon see who’s swimming and who’s sinking.’

 
     
    CHAPTER TEN
     
    Friday – 18:35
     
    I walked into the Punchbowl just after six thirty. It was busy, full of important-looking, professional types. Even without a messed-up face my entrance wouldn’t have gone unnoticed. My eyes surfed the happy-hour crowd as they pulsed around the bar, my shifting gaze set on “Kate-watch” in earnest. But I couldn’t see her. How long would she wait this time? I was about to terminate the recce when I felt a tug on my arm. A beautiful tug. Out of the corner of my eye I could see it was Kate. She pointed towards an oak-panelled booth just behind the main bar and gently pulled me in the same direction. Surrounded by noise and clamour, the small alcove seemed an oasis of tranquillity. On the booth’s glass-topped table I could see a wine bottle and two glasses nicely arranged. I nodded in approval and sang to myself: I hope it’s red, it’s red, I hope it’s red, it’s red.
    We sat in the booth and she studied me through the glow of the tea-light, her eyes assessing my swollen features. Without showing any sympathy, she tilted her glass at my purple-hued lumps and bumps.
    ‘How does this unpleasant tale begin?’
    I shrugged. ‘It’s like one of those bad dreams. You never remember how it starts. But the ending, well, that’s a different matter.’
    ‘Are you going to share?’
    ‘Can you keep a secret?’
    I took a sip of my wine. A Chilean merlot, if I wasn’t mistaken. That’s the first thing they taught me on the wine course: read the label.
    ‘Solicitors are like doctors,’ she said quietly. ‘We have an oath of confidentiality to our clients.’ She held up a hand before I could say anything. ‘Even prospective clients.’
    ‘No offence, but for ninety pounds an hour I’d expect the Attorney General.’
    She smiled and swirled the wine in her glass. ‘Consider it pro bono .’
    ‘I thought you’d be more pro Edge.’
    ‘Your one-liners aren’t getting any better, Ed. And you used to be so rock’n’roll.’ She gave up on the sarcastic smile and inclined her glass at my bruises again. ‘Anyway, I’m more interested in your story.’
    I looked over at the bar and surveyed the revellers. Apart from me, everyone seemed to belong. At least that meant no spooks were watching us.
    I turned my gaze back to Kate. ‘Assertive. I like that in a counsel.’
    ‘Glad that’s settled. Now, confide in your legal team.’ She looked at me and drew a face