Читать книгу Subverting Justice - Don Easton - Страница 7

Jack fidgeted with a pen as he spoke on the phone. Exhaustion and stress had put him in a daze and he had to make a conscious effort to focus on his conversation with his wife. “I should be home about four-thirty,” he mumbled.

“Perfect timing. I’ll probably have the fall cleanup in the yard finished by then,” Natasha said brusquely.

“I’m sorry.”

“Come on, I’m teasing. I need something to keep me busy for the next week before I go back to work.”

“Looking forward to working at a new clinic?”

“I think so. It’s a safer neighbourhood. The doctor I’m replacing told me she loves it there, but she’s too ill to work and is scheduled for more chemo.”

Jack looked at a streak of soot on the cuff of his shirt. Christ, what they must have gone through. What would it be like, being tied to a chair and watching your wife being burned to death?

“The other two doctors seem really nice. I think I’ll fit in well.” Natasha paused for a response. When none came she asked, “Are you okay?”

Jack sighed. “It’s been a hell of a day.”

“When you called earlier you said it went well in Victoria. I expected you home by noon. It’s almost three.”

“Things did go well in Victoria. It’s here that everything went to shit.” Rose gestured to him from the doorway. “I gotta go. Meeting with the brass.”

“Okay, I love you.”

“Love you, too, babe.”

Floyd Hackman slowly drove past Taggart’s house. The white van he and Vic Trapp were in was in need of a wash, and the magnetic signs stuck to the doors read Abe’s Furnace Repair, along with a phone number. They saw a woman who fit Taggart’s wife’s description crouched with her back to the street working in a flower bed.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Trapp said. He glanced at his watch. “Bet their kids’ll be home from school soon. Park up ahead. It’ll be easy to shoot out the back,” he added, gesturing with his thumb toward the curtained-off portion of the van.