Kissed a Sad Goodbye Read Free

diligence.
    Offering up a silent thanks, he hopped into the car with an unaccustomed sense of anticipation. The Midget’s engine roared obediently to life, and as he eased it into gear he felt a spasm of guilt for having even considered getting rid of the old car. Abandonment seemed a poor compensation for its years of faithful service—a bit like putting down a good dog—not to mention the fact that Kit would probably never forgive him. The boy had fallen in love with the car at first sight, and the last thing he needed now was another loss, however small.
    Since his ex-wife’s murder in April, Kincaid had done what he could to fill the gap in her son’s life. He had also come to feel sure that Kit was, in fact, not Vic’s second husband’s son but his own child, conceived just before he and Vic had separated twelve years ago—though he had yet to tell Kit what he suspected was their true relationship.
    Turning into Rosslyn Hill, Kincaid headed south, into Haverstock Hill, then into Chalk Farm and Camden High Street. When he’d passed through Camden Town on his way home from Gemma’s earlier that morning, the street vendors had been setting up their booths. Now the Saturday market was in full swing and the display of colorful cotton skirts and dresses made him think of Gemma. The clothes would suit her, and she’d enjoy the bustle of it all. Perhaps one day soon they could bring Kit for a Saturday outing.
    He wondered how she meant to spend her Saturday. She’d assured him that she hadn’t felt left out over the tennis, that he and Kit needed a bit of male bonding, but she hadn’t offered any hint of her own plans. Or had he simply failed to ask?
    The sudden braking of the car in front caused him to give up his ruminations on the minefields of relationships and to concentrate on survival. The traffic crept along the rest of the way to King’s Cross, but still he found a space at the curb and made his way to the platform with time to spare.
    When the Cambridge train eased to a stop a few moments later, Kincaid felt the same flash of excitement he’d known as a child on meeting a train. In his small Cheshire town the trains had brought a whiff of the outside world, of adventures yet to be had, people yet to be met.
    He craned for a sight of Kit’s fair hair through the mill of disembarking passengers, then waved as he spotted him. Smiling to disguise the painful jolt that Kit’s resemblance to Vic still gave him, he gave the boy a friendly thump on the shoulder before holding out his hand for their customary high five. “Hullo, sport. Anyone for tennis?”
    Grinning, Kit slapped his palm, then swung his holdall over his shoulder as they walked towards the exit. “Colin was
so
jealous. You should’ve heard him moaning and whinging about it. Laura was that fed up.”
    “And I’m sure you did your best not to rub Colin’s nose in it,” Kincaid said wryly as he opened the boot and took Kit’s bag. “No, don’t look in there.” He snapped the boot shut before Kit could see. “I’ve got a surprise.”
    “A surprise? Really?” Kit’s eyes widened, proof that eleven was not too old for treats. He swung himself over the passenger door into the Midget with the finesse of a hurdler. “What kind of surprise?”
    “The edible sort,” Kincaid teased as he started the car. “Wait and—” His phone shrilled just as he eased the nose of the car into the street. Swearing under his breath, he slipped it from his pocket with one hand whilemaneuvering the car back into its parking space with the other.
    “Kincaid,” he snapped, and heard in answer the familiar voice of the Yard’s receptionist telling him to hold.
    “What is it?” asked Kit.
    Covering the mouthpiece, Kincaid said, “Work.” Then he added, with more confidence than he felt, “Won’t take a minute.”
    Chief Superintendent Denis Childs came on the line, sounding as unruffled as always. Kincaid had been guilty more than once of wishing