Nightfall: The First Jack Nightingale Supernatural Thriller Read Free Page A

those rings.’
    Nightingale shrugged. ‘You just blow and stick your tongue out a bit,’ he said. He grinned amiably and held out the cigarette. ‘Do you want to try?’
    She shook her head solemnly. ‘I’m a child and children can’t smoke, and even if I could smoke I wouldn’t because it gives you cancer.’
    Nightingale took another drag on the cigarette. ‘It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?’ he said, his eyes on the river again.
    ‘Who are you?’ Sophie asked.
    ‘My name’s Jack.’
    ‘Like Jack and the Beanstalk ?’
    ‘Yeah, but I don’t have my beanstalk with me today. I had to use the stairs.’
    ‘Why didn’t you use the lift?’
    ‘I don’t like lifts.’
    Sophie put the doll to her ear and frowned as if she was listening intently. Then she nodded. ‘Jessica doesn’t like lifts, either.’
    ‘Nice name – Jessica.’
    ‘Jessica Lovely – that’s her full name. What’s your full name?’
    ‘Nightingale. Jack Nightingale.’
    ‘Like the bird?’
    ‘That’s right. Like the bird.’
    ‘I wish I was a bird.’ She cuddled the doll as she stared across the river with unseeing eyes.
    ‘I wish I could fly.’
    Nightingale blew two more smoke-rings. This time they held together for less than a second before the wind whipped them apart. ‘It’s not so much fun, being a bird. They can’t watch TV, they can’t play video games or play with dolls, and they have to eat off the floor.’
    Below a siren kicked into life, and Sophie flinched as if she’d been struck. ‘It’s okay,’ said Nightingale. ‘It’s a fire engine.’
    ‘I thought it was the police.’
    ‘The police siren sounds different.’ Nightingale made the woo-woo-woo sound, and Sophie giggled. He leaned against the terrace wall. He had set his phone to vibrate and felt it judder in his inside pocket. He took it out and peered at the screen. It was Robbie Hoyle, one of his negotiator colleagues. He’d known Hoyle for more than a decade. He was an inspector with the Territorial Support Group, the force’s heavy mob who went in with riot shields, truncheons and Tasers when necessary. Hoyle was a big man, well over six feet tall with the build of a rugby player, but he had a soft voice and was one of the Met’s most able negotiators. ‘Sorry, Sophie, I’m going to have to take this,’ he said. He pressed the green button. ‘Hi, Robbie.’
    ‘I’ve just arrived, do you want me up there?’
    ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea,’ said Nightingale. Whenever possible the negotiators preferred to act in teams of three, one doing the talking, another listening and the third gathering intelligence, but Nightingale figured that too many men on the balcony would only spook the little girl.
    ‘How’s it going?’ asked Hoyle.
    ‘Calm,’ said Nightingale. ‘I’ll get back to you, okay? Try to get rid of the onlookers, but softly-softly.’ He ended the call and put the phone away.
    ‘You’re a policeman, aren’t you?’ said Sophie.
    Nightingale smiled. ‘How did you know?’
    Sophie pointed down at Colin Duggan, who was staring up at them, shielding his eyes from the sun with a hand. Robbie Hoyle was standing next to him. ‘That policeman there spoke to you when you got out of your car.’
    ‘You saw me arrive, yeah?’
    ‘I like sports cars,’ she said. ‘It’s an MGB.’
    ‘That’s right,’ said Nightingale, ‘an old one. How old are you?’
    ‘Nine,’ she said.
    ‘Well my car’s twenty-six years old. How about that?’
    ‘That’s old,’ she said. ‘Very old.’
    ‘There’s another thing birds can’t do,’ said Nightingale. ‘When was the last time you saw a bird driving a car? They can’t do it. No hands.’
    Sophie pressed the doll to her ear as if she was listening to it, then took it away and looked at Nightingale. ‘Am I in trouble?’ she said.
    ‘No, Sophie. We just want to be sure you’re okay.’
    Sophie shuddered, as if icy water had trickled down her spine.
    ‘The girl