Bloodstream Read Free Page A

to rid himself of the low throb which had already set in.
    ‘Why don’t you start up boxing again,’ Rossi said, leaning across the desk.
    ‘Because I’m too old for all that now. Been almost twenty years since I was in a ring. I’d get flattened in a second. Plus, the pain in my hand says I’ve forgotten how to throw a punch properly.’
    Rossi hummed and sat back in her chair. ‘Who does that?’
    ‘Does what?’ Murphy replied, as he began to calm himself. ‘Punch chairs? At least it wasn’t a wall . . .’
    ‘I meant confess to a murder which sounds not only improbable, but of which there is no evidence that it has actually happened.’
    Murphy swept open palms across his cheeks. ‘Attention seeker? Mental health patient . . . God knows. We know it’s not true . . .’
    ‘Possibly . . .’
    Murphy went on as if Rossi hadn’t spoken. ‘We’re still treating this as a missing person, not a murder enquiry. So, we send a report and see if there’s anything anyone wants to do with Keith. That’s not our problem.’
    Rossi nodded slowly. ‘Don’t think we should dismiss it entirely though. It’s not like he was confessing to killing JFK or something. It’s possible that he could be telling the truth.’
    ‘It was Amy on the video. Walking from the shop at eleven at night, not at nine in the morning like he said. Her mum was still awake at one in the morning and it’s only a ten-minute walk from there. Amy would’ve been home well before then.’
    Murphy had spoken a little harsher than he’d meant so wasn’t exactly surprised when Rossi didn’t answer at first, instead giving him a silent moment of contemplation.
    ‘People don’t just disappear . . .’ Rossi replied after allowing the silence to drag on for a few moments longer than was comfortable.
    That was the only problem with trying to dismiss the thought that something had happened to Amy. Almost three weeks with no word. Nothing to say that she had run off of her own accord. Murphy scratched the back of his head and pulled himself closer to his desk. ‘Sometimes, you just have a feeling, okay? Remember that girl we pulled out of that basement a few years back?’
    ‘How could I forget? That was the first proper case we worked together on. It’s burned on my memory. It was about that time I started seeing more lines on my face in the morning.’
    ‘Well, I bet everyone thought she was dead or on some island somewhere. Turned out to be wrong, didn’t it?’
    ‘I think that was probably a one-off. I’m not sure how many people want to take young girls off the street then keep them alive in a dark basement for a year. Just for some kind of experiment. We have to be realistic here.’
    ‘Yeah, well, maybe it’s something else this time.’
    ‘I’m all for positive thinking, Murph, but even I’m struggling with this one. Kick it back to Liverpool South and let them deal with it. Nothing more we can do now. We’ve spoken to all her friends, done the press thing, all that. Not a single lead, other than a possible mental health patient, confessing to a murder that we have no evidence for.’
    Murphy didn’t answer. He was remembering Stacey Maguire as she had been years earlier. Seventeen, almost the same age as Amy was now. Mid-nineties haircut and pale skin. He smiled without thinking.
    He was broken from his thoughts by DC Michael Hale appearing next to his desk. ‘Boss is calling us in.’
    Murphy raised an eyebrow at Rossi before following her and DC Hale, catching up to them as they entered the boss’s office. The boss being DCI Stephens, head of their not-so-little corner of E Division.
    ‘I’ll get straight to the point,’ Stephens said. Murphy closed the door behind him, not for the first time bristling at the fact that there was enough room for four people to work comfortably in this room whereas everyone else was tripping over themselves.
    ‘We’ve got a situation developing at the moment near Anfield . . .’
    ‘At