SENTINEL: an exciting British detective crime thriller Read Free Page B

‘Explaining why he should not go to hell, I imagine.’
    ‘Cynic,’ said Radford.
    Aged in his mid-thirties, the DCI was shaven-headed, keen-eyed and broad-chested, his custom-made grey suit tailored to show off the muscular physique that came from a lifetime’s devotion to the gym. Detective Sergeant Gaines had never been to a gym, unless you counted the time he arrested a bodybuilder for trafficking in steroids, and he did not own anything custom-made. Older than his boss by more than a decade, and just a few years from retirement, Gaines’ face was craggy and lined, eyes grey, dark suit sitting uneasily on his paunchy frame with its drooping shoulders.
    The two men began to walk up the aisle.
    ‘You got the ring?’ asked Radford.
    ‘You’re not my type.’ Gaines stopped after a few paces and pointed to a large pool of congealing blood on the floor. ‘Medics reckoned he’d been beaten with something heavy – he’s got serious body and head injuries. Could yet turn out to be a murder.’
    Radford crouched down by the large crimson stain.
    ‘Jesus,’ he murmured.
    ‘Na.’ Gaines glanced up at the crucifix on the wall. ‘He’s got an alibi. Besides, it’s not really his MO.’
    ‘I sense you are not a man of faith,’ said Radford with a slight smile, looking up at the sergeant.
    ‘Actually, I was brought up a Catholic. You?’ Gaines realised how little they knew about each other even though they had worked together for the best part of a year.
    It had not been the best of starts, Gaines initially viewing Radford as a headquarters yes-man, a good old Bramshill Boy parachuted in to clean up a discredited CID department. The DCI had viewed the sergeant with similar distrust, seeing Gaines as someone who, if not on the take, was dead-wood ripe for the felling. Even Gaines himself would have admitted the latter; he had been dead wood, too interested in the prospect of retirement than doing his job properly, disillusioned by the way the corruption scandal had torn CID apart, tired of the taunts from villains and feeling weary deep within his bones. Until something about the inspector’s energy and fierce determination to do the right thing stirred something deep in the sergeant, surprising both of them in the process. Standing in the church, the sergeant was struck by the idea that Danny Radford would make a good vicar.
    ‘My dad was too busy worshipping the bottle to worry about God,’ said Radford, concluding his examination of the blood and moving over to the Bible lying a few feet away. ‘Forensics on their way?’
    ‘Yup. Just got to finish off with that smash and grab at the jewellers then they’ll be here.’
    Radford noticed that a passage on the page of the Bible had been underlined in red pen.
    ‘Very dramatic,’ said Radford, leaning lower to read the words. ‘Luke 19.24. Know it?’
    ‘Oh, aye, know the whole lot backwards, I do. Never without me Bible, me. Go to sleep with the St James on me bedside table.’
    Radford chuckled then turned his attention to the underlined passage.
    ‘How hard it is for those who have riches to enter the Kingdom of God?’ He read and looked up at the sergeant again. ‘What’s that about then?’
    ‘Preparing his sermon? Sounds like his type of thing.’
    ‘Maybe so. He’s certainly had plenty to say about the rich and powerful in recent weeks has our Reverend Rowland and there’s plenty believe that he has been pursuing a personal vendetta against the council. I did hear that a couple of the councillors were considering doing him for slander. Apparently, he all but accused them of corruption.’
    ‘Wouldn’t be the first.’
    ‘Indeed.’ The DCI straightened up and glanced back at the door. ‘So, how did the attacker get in? That not locked?’
    ‘The Reverend Rowland is one of the happy-clappy brigade, likes to let anyone in to play with the tambourines. I saw the local traffic warden on the way in, she reckons she saw two blokes leaving