NO AGE TO DIE: The release of a dangerous prisoner leads to murder (DCI John Blizzard Book 9) by John Dean (digital ebook reader .txt) 📕

sprinted across the garden, cursing as he bounced off one of the trees because his eyes were focused on the fleeing man.

At the end of the garden was a high wall beyond which were the backyards of terraced houses. For a second, the man hesitated then spotted the compost bin, flipped himself onto it and scrambled onto the top of the wall, nimbly avoiding the shards of cemented-in glass designed to deter burglars. After the briefest of glances backwards, he jumped down the other side.

The pursuing officers heard a dustbin go flying then there was a thunderous hammering on the back door of the house and a frantic shouting. Colley leapt onto the compost bin and hurled himself on top of the wall, crying out in pain as the glass sliced through his hand. Trying to ignore the agony, he glanced down into the yard and saw the man pounding on the back door before the kitchen light went on and the door swung open.

Confronted by a startled elderly man, the intruder barged into the house, knocking the pensioner over. Colley gritted his teeth against the pain and leapt into the yard, crying out as he landed on his knee. The uniformed officer was beside him in seconds, hitting the ground hard, rolling over twice then helping the sergeant to his feet. Together, they rushed into the house, pausing for a moment to check that the householder was all right. Colley immediately recognised Tom Raine. The old man lay motionless and the uniformed constable stayed behind to tend to him while Colley limped as fast as he could down the hallway. He cursed as he saw that the front door had been flung open and that the killer had fled into the street. With a desperate lunge, the sergeant threw himself out into the road and glanced desperately up and down but saw just parked cars and one or two people coming out of their houses to see what had caused the commotion. There was no sign of his quarry.

‘Damn!’ exclaimed Colley. Forgetting his gashed hand, he thumped the wall and winced as the pain shot up his arm. ‘Damn, damn, damn!’

Within moments, flashing blue lights converged on the street from both ends and uniformed officers poured from vehicles and fanned out to begin searching the area. Blizzard appeared, eyed the scene grimly and approached his sergeant, who was now sitting on a low front wall, trying to catch his breath, wrapping a handkerchief round his hand, having realised that it was bleeding profusely.

‘Are you OK?’ asked Blizzard.

‘Yeah,’ said Colley. His teeth were gritted with the pain.

‘It doesn’t look like it.’

‘I’m OK.’

‘We’ll get the ambulance guys to check you over anyway,’ said Blizzard. ‘Did you get a good look at him?’

‘Only briefly – when the old feller put his kitchen light on and opened his back door. Five ten, five eleven, slim, green anorak, dark trousers. Didn’t see his face. Sorry, guv, but the man he knocked over is Tom Raine.’

Blizzard closed his eyes for a few moments then reopened them.

‘How is he?’ he asked.

‘Not sure. Not good.’

Blizzard’s eyes narrowed.

‘I want this bastard,’ he said grimly. ‘Could it have been the vicar?’

‘He was certainly the right build.’

‘Not sure a vicar could run like that, though,’ said Blizzard.

He sat down next to Colley and placed a reassuring arm on his shoulder while anxiously eyeing the deep gash and the sergeant’s pale face.

‘Don’t be so sure,’ said Colley. He wrapped the crimson handkerchief tighter round the wound. ‘According to one of the parishioners, Henry Sanders was a champion sprinter when he was younger.’

‘Bloody marvellous,’ sighed Blizzard. He turned as a uniformed sergeant approached. ‘Anything, Des?’

‘Not yet. We’ve got people searching the surrounding streets.’

‘What about the old feller?’ asked Blizzard.

‘It’s that bloke you are interested in,’ said the uniformed sergeant. ‘Tom Raine, I think he’s called. You’ve got a couple of our young’uns looking for his wife.’

‘How is he?’

‘They’re taking him to hospital.’ The uniformed sergeant nodded towards an ambulance edging its way along the street, watched by a growing band of onlookers. ‘Nasty bang to his head. You need to get that hand seen to, David.’

Colley nodded, feeling faint as the world started to spin. He allowed himself to be helped to the ambulance. Blizzard sat on the wall for a few moments, deep in thought. As he did so, Danny Rowan and Keith Leighton approached. Blizzard looked at the young constables.

‘We heard the call,’ said Leighton. ‘Thought we could help. We reckon he must have been one of the protestors. Someone has spray-painted the word “perverts” on the wall near where you saw him. The paint’s still wet. Is it true that he’s injured Tom Raine?’

‘I’m afraid so,’ said Blizzard. ‘Any luck with finding Martha?’

Leighton shook his head.

‘We’ve searched just about every patch of wasteland and derelict outhouse in the area,’ he said. ‘Nothing.’

‘It was worth a try. Thanks anyway.’

‘If you don’t mind, we’d like to give it another go tomorrow, sir,’ said Rowan.

‘You got an idea?’ asked Blizzard.

‘Not really, but I guess we just don’t like the idea of giving up. For Tom, you know.’

Blizzard nodded.

‘Thank you,’ he said.

Chapter twenty-three

Panic gripped Blizzard as he realised that he was trapped and that there was no way out. He could vaguely see through the gloom that the room did not have a door and realised, as the walls began to close in, that no one knew he was there and that no one would come to save him. That he would die alone in the darkness and that no one would find his body. As his heart began to pound and panic overwhelmed him, he jolted awake. As ever, it took him a while to realise that he was in bed, that it