Force Of Habit v5 Read Free Page B

spared further jail time by Judge Laurence Beech. He had handed out a two year supervision order and put Rawlins on an Aggression Replacement Programme as he had had plenty of time to think and reflect during his time already spent inside and he had promised to be a good boy from now on. The judge had taken him at his word despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary.
    The article was as punchy as its subject matter and elaborated on Deacon’s account. He had gone down for an hour long attack that could have resulted in his victim’s death had the police not intervened when they had. He had a history of alcohol related violence against his partners going back to High School. When police arrived he was foaming at the mouth, punching Lumsden’s face and when they tried to restrain him he bit into her and flesh came away in his mouth and part of her scalp came away in his hand. The old dear was right; it just wasn’t right.
    ‘Are you sure it was him?’
    ‘As sure as eggs is eggs,’ she nodded.
    ‘Was there anything else? Anything noticeable about him?’
    ‘He looked the same,’ she shook her head. ‘A bit cleaner but they’d have to keep you ship shape in jail or you’d be having outbreaks of this disease and that disease every five minutes. They’d have been looking after him better than he does himself.’
    North felt conscious of his appearance again.
    ‘When he bumped into you, did you notice anything?’ North didn’t want to put the idea of him being drunk in her head but he was running out of prompts. ‘And did he stumble into you, or –’
    ‘Oh, he pushed me, Inspector. He went straight through me like a dose of salts.’
    ‘And that was just after five?’
    She nodded. It was now just past six. North had to get a move on.
    ‘You said you didn’t hear anything. Where were you before five?’
    ‘Ooh, am I a suspect Detective? Can I call you Detective? It’s just like Murder She Wrote,’ she turned to her dogs, ‘We like Murder She Wrote, don’t we boys.’ The dogs barked.
    Bloody Hell, he was interviewing Miss Marple.
    ‘Do you have a motive?’ he humoured her.
    ‘She attacked me that night the brute was arrested, Detective. I had to have stitches. She started in on them and then did for me while the police were wrestling with that brute. There’s a motive, right there.’
    He returned her smile.
    ‘This morning I took the boys for walkies at seven and we came back at eight,’ she went on, ‘then we went out again at three and came back at four. I like to be indoors before it gets too dark, Detective. We had just watched Countdown and I was putting rubbish in the shoot when he barged into me. He must have come up during one of our walks because we usually see anyone that goes by the window and I didn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary all day. It’s been very quiet since he’s been gone. Occasionally she plays music too loud when she’s drunk but only rarely. She still gives out the vilest abuse when you complain.’
    North hoped he had her zest and stamina if he made it to her age.
    ‘What about yesterday? Last night? Did you hear or see anything then?’
    She shook her head and looked at him with a puzzled look, trying to work out his train of thought like she did watching ‘Murder She Wrote’.
    ‘Just the usual loutish behaviour outside from kids swearing like troopers,’ she pulled back the curtain revealing a security grille inside the window. ‘I had to fortify my own home after the second burglary. They broke in when I was at my Charlie’s funeral, Detective. His funeral! They knew I was out, see. That’s all they saw, an opportunity, not the tragedy. Not the empathy for a fellow human being, just an opportunity to feed their habits. They even took my Gemma.’
    ‘Gemma?’ North feared the worst.
    ‘My dog. A boxer. I used to let her out for a run, she’d play downstairs with the little ‘uns until I’d whistle and then she’d come running right