Time to Play (North East Police) Read Free Page A

intensified and he coughed again. Pushing 999 and the green call button, he steadied his breathing to respond as the operator asked which service.
    ‘Police and ambulance, please,’ he gasped.
    ‘This is the police, sir, how can I help?’
    ‘Dead body … weir near the cathedral … need help.’ Wallace was trying his best to stay conscious, and he forced another cough from his tired lungs.
    ‘Sorry, sir, did you say there’s a dead body in the weir near the cathedral?’
    Wallace grunted in reply, ‘send police … and ambulance.’
    The call handler must have known something was wrong and asked, ‘is the ambulance for you, sir. Do you need help? You sound very breathless.’
    ‘Heart … attack.’
    Wallace couldn’t say any more. The phone slipped from his grip and hit the concrete floor with a clatter. The call handler was still calling ‘sir’ as Wallace finally succumbed and slid backwards, his eyes closing and his head lolling to the side, his breathing raspy and shallow.
    Poppet knew something was wrong; she had sat down beside him the minute he’d fallen. Now, she threw her head back and howled mournfully.
     
     

Chapter Two
    2 nd November, 0620 hours – Marlo’s flat, Sunderland
    The heavy buzzing from the bedside table invaded Marlo Buchanan’s sleep and tried to pull her into the land of the living. Doing her best to ignore it, she pulled the pillow round to cover her ears and tried to force her mind back into the dream she’d been having. But the buzzing persisted.
    Groaning, she reached an arm from the warm confines of the duvet and blindly felt around for her mobile phone. It seriously cannot be time to get up. I’ve been in bed like ten minutes. There’s no way that’s my alarm.
    Finally finding the phone, she pulled it towards her and cracked open one eye to glance at the caller ID. Seeing who it was, she swiped across the screen and mumbled, ‘Go away. I’m sleeping,’ before hanging up. She hadn’t even had chance to put the phone down when the knocking at the door started, softly at first but then louder. She would swear she could hear someone talking through the letterbox too.
    ‘Christ what’s a girl gotta do to get some sleep around here. I get in at 2 a.m. and I’m getting knocked up at just after six? Jesus Christ, I’m actually gunna kill her,’ grumbled Marlo as she pushed the duvet off and got to her feet. She grabbed the hair bobble off her bedside cabinet and tied her dark hair in a loose bun as she walked through the flat.
    She unlocked the front door and opened it slightly before turning and heading towards the kitchen.
    ‘You forgot,’ accused Deena Davis, her hands on her hips in mock anger.
    ‘Obviously,’ said Marlo with an eye roll at her friend. Then realising she might actually be offended, Marlo added, ‘Sorry, I was out late at a search last night and our jog just slipped my mind. I’ll make you a special coffee on my machine to make it up.’
    Marlo’s eyes narrowed in on her friend, then widened suddenly. ‘Bitch! You’re not even dressed for a run. You weren’t going anyway!’
    ‘Wondered how long it’d take you. Where’s my coffee?’
    Marlo made it and the pair made their way through to the living room.
    ‘So, if we weren’t running, why on earth were you banging at my door at this ungodly hour?’
    ‘I wasn’t banging. And it’s not ungodly, it’s almost 7 a.m. You’d have been up soon anyway. I’m on 8 a.m. start today.’
    Marlo acknowledged the statement with a nod and took a sip of the hot coffee, sighing as she savoured the sweet caramel hit. That coffee machine was one of the best things she’d ever bought.
    ‘We still on for trying that new cocktail bar tonight?’ asked Marlo, suddenly remembering what day it was.
    ‘All being well. I’m due to get off at four but have a dentist appointment scheduled in at five. Then have to go home and put my face on, so say meet there about sevenish? That’s provided I don’t