Whisper For The Reaper by Jack Gatland (best book series to read TXT) 📕
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- Author: Jack Gatland
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‘They really hate each other then?’ Declan asked. Marlowe shrugged.
‘I don’t think it’s hate, but when you’re married to someone one day and then the next you allow the government to remove every scrap of identity about you, effectively saying that not only does the marriage no longer exist, but you yourself no longer exist, that’s probably a bit of a marital punch in the balls for the other half.’
With a last nod and a wave, Marlowe started down the path towards his BMW, currently parked on the verge.
‘Take care, Tom,’ Declan finished with a smile. ‘Don’t ever end up in my crosshairs.’
‘It’s when you end up in mine, you need to worry,’ Tom smiled back as he climbed into his car, and Declan felt that this was more a warning than a jocular reply. And as the car drove off, back towards London, Declan entered his house, closing the door behind him.
Monroe was on the stairs.
‘He gone?’ he asked. Declan nodded.
‘He explain who he was?’ Monroe continued. Declan nodded again.
‘If you want to talk about it, I’m here,’ he replied. ‘Especially the marriage part.’
Monroe groaned at this. ‘Bloody rumour’ll be all over the Met by tomorrow, with your sodding knack for keeping secrets,’ he muttered. ‘Thank God Kendis is gone, or it’d be on the front—‘
He stopped, his eyes widening.
‘God laddie, I’m sorry.’
‘It’s okay,’ Declan picked up Marlowe’s mug of coffee, walking it into the kitchen as he spoke. ‘But I do want to know what the hell happened.’
‘Just what you think happened,’ Monroe followed him into the kitchen. ‘Me and Emilia fell in love on the job. We had a fling, ended up getting married. We were seeing things every day that made us wonder how long we had on this earth, seeing people snap out of existence like that. And then one day she was gone.’
‘What do you mean, gone?’
Monroe poured himself a glass of water from the tap and sipped it before replying.
‘Marlowe’s mother was a spook that we worked with. She died.’
‘At the 7/7 bombings. Marlowe mentioned that.’
‘Emilia and Olivia were close. Very close. With hindsight, I’d even say they were having an affair, but I didn’t see it. And then when Olivia died, Emilia changed. We had problems, but then name me a marriage that doesn’t. We were in too deep with Lucas by then, and Derek Salmon was off the rails big time, we had a massive barney about this and then the next day Emilia was simply gone.’
He finished the glass, as if using the time to plan the next sentence.
‘I learned later that she’d accepted a Whitehall position to run a deep-ops organisation, effectively replacing Olivia, and in the process had her entire identity scrubbed. To keep her loved ones safe, if you can believe that spook bollocks. I came home to find everything connected to her gone, even the photos. She didn’t turn up to work, and when Patrick checked in to why, he was told we’d never had a DS Wintergreen working with us. Even the file notes were altered. And just like that, I was un-married.’
He looked to the sink.
‘Spooks,’ he spat the word like a curse. ‘A pox on the lot of them.’
Declan wanted to mention the USB drive, but Jess entered the kitchen at that point.
‘Have you asked him?’ she asked Monroe, who forced a smile back at her.
’Not yet,’ he said, looking back to Declan. ‘I was going to go home, as unlike every other bugger here I didn’t book a room at the resident bloody hotel, and now the rooms are all gone.’ He filled the glass again. ‘And I’ll be honest, I’m finding it hard to be here. I’m still not sure that I want to stay on once this all finishes. Even if the Last Chance Saloon continues after this case, we’re higher profile now. They’ll want someone in above me, a Detective Superintendent, and I don’t play well with others.’
‘If you need to leave, I totally understand,’ Declan replied, but Monroe shook his head.
‘I’m going to help, but at a distance,’ he explained. ‘Get out of your way. I’ve booked a flight tomorrow to Berlin, and I’m going to check into our German cop friend, his mad bastard dad, and your mechanic buddy.’
‘Are you sure?’ Declan frowned. ‘I mean, you had a concussion—‘
‘Christ, laddie, I’m not an invalid!’ Monroe snapped. ‘And besides, I won’t be alone. I’ve called for backup.’
Monroe didn’t elaborate, and so Declan didn’t ask any further questions.
‘As long as you’re sure,’ he finished. ‘What time’s the flight?’
’Stupidly early in the morning,’ Monroe smiled. ‘I’ll take my leave tonight and be there by first thing.’
‘Well, you can stay for dinner first,’ Declan insisted. ‘If only to tell me what you gathered from my dad’s secret study.’
‘I’ll tell you what I gathered,’ Monroe laughed. ‘I gathered that Patrick had some serious trust issues at the end.’
Declan laughed back at this, but at the same time there was a weighing down of the USB drive in his pocket.
What was on it, and what did it say about Monroe?
Billy was alone in the Library when Dave the landlord walked in.
‘Don’t mind me,’ he said as he gathered up the dirty plates. ‘Just cleaning up the lunch rush.’
‘No worries,’ Billy smiled as he carried on working. Dave walked around the table, picking up plates and glasses, but paused as he reached Billy, staring down at the file on the table beside him. A photo of Nathanial Wing stared up at him.
‘That the kid who died on the golf green?’ he asked. Billy looked up.
‘I’m sorry, but we can’t talk about active investigations,’ he replied apologetically. ‘Unless you have anything that can be used—‘
‘I might, actually,’ Dave had placed the plates down now, picking up the
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