Perfect Crime. Helen Fields

Читать онлайн книгу.

Perfect Crime - Helen  Fields


Скачать книгу
a few agencies when I was trying to find my daughter. I was a bit surprised when you turned up and I missed the name of the one you’re from.’

      ‘But you …’ – he continued as if she hadn’t said a word – ‘have taken the gift of life for granted. You thought you could throw it away. You decided your need to be rid of the responsibilities that come with your place in this world was more important than valuing what you were given.’

      ‘I’m not sure what you’re talking about,’ Fenny said. ‘What does this have to do with my daughter?’

      ‘Are you still taking your medication, or did you decide you knew better than the people who were trying to help you?’ he asked.

      Fenny put the photo of Alice that she’d been clutching down on the coffee table with a shaking hand.

      ‘Who sent you?’ she asked quietly. ‘Was it someone from the hospital? Is this part of their follow-up regime? Am I being tested? Only if this is all just part of their scheme to make sure I’m still in recovery, then using the information I gave them about my daughter is …’

      She couldn’t finish the sentence. There was no phrase that was strong enough to express the disgust she felt at what was happening.

      Fenny looked the man up and down. He didn’t have a file with him. No papers at all. Surely if he’d come to talk about her daughter, he’d be making some notes, or asking her to sign a document, or even check her identity. Looking around the sitting room, she tried to recall where she’d left her glasses so she could read the awfully small print that was currently just a blurred mass on his ID badge.

      ‘Fenella, we need to have a conversation and I need you to give me the right answers,’ he said, standing up. ‘You’ll need to concentrate. I’m going to help you with that, okay? I’m going to make it all much easier for you.’

      ‘I want to see my daughter,’ Fenny said, looking at the bulge in the man’s trouser pocket.

      It certainly wasn’t mobile phone-shaped and the broad curves suggested something other than a set of keys.

      ‘Do you?’ he asked. ‘How much time do you spend actually thinking about her? Once a day? Does she even get that much from you? Isn’t it more realistic that you think about her maybe once a week?’

      Fenny stood up, closer to him than she was comfortable with, lifting her face several inches to look at him directly.

      ‘There’s not an hour of the day that goes by when I don’t think of my girl,’ she said, tears filling her eyes and rage tensing every muscle.

      ‘Do you?’ he smiled. ‘Does a mother who actually loves her missing child really attempt suicide? I think not. I believe that you’d wait for her as long as it took, because if there was the most minuscule chance that your daughter might come home, or get arrested, might end up in a hospital and ask for you, you ought to be there for her. Why would you attempt to deprive that poor girl of her only surviving parent? That’s just not right.’

      He reached out and took hold of Fenny’s left hand with his right. Something about his touch felt off, too cool, fake. She raised her hand in his grasp to get a better look.

      Gloves. Whoever this man was, for some reason he was wearing clear plastic gloves.

      As she opened her mouth to put the question she was thinking into words, she felt a thump that was punctuated by a metallic snap over her left wrist. The dangling handcuff was closed but not overly tight. Ridiculously, she wondered if he was police, after all – not there to notify her of her daughter’s death but to arrest her for some parenting offence she hadn’t even known she’d committed. The wrongness took a few seconds to sink in.

      ‘What the fuck do you think you’re up to? You’ve got to get out of my place right now. Do you hear me?’

      The man laughed.

      Fenny tugged at the handcuff. She didn’t even want him to get the cuff off. That would mean him touching her again and she really didn’t want that. Not with those creepy gloves on.

      ‘You want me to leave already? But you haven’t heard what I came to tell you about Alice yet,’ he said.

      ‘You’re not here to talk to me about my daughter,’ Fenny said. ‘Now get the fuck out of my flat, you friggin’ weirdo, or I’m calling the police.’

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

iVBORw0KGgoAAAANSUhEUgAABLAAAAdqCAIAAADmDgFMAAAHZGlDQ1BIQ1AgZWNpUkdCIHYyAABI iZWVaVSTBxaG77dkJSQQAgRk+SDsBhIQWYUCYZV9FXAlyQdEAolJ2KpYOiqiuIAVSxVEBanjCiIU x6VS0Yo4VqACLriBVilWxRF1qmV+cObYP51z5v31nPec9977674AdF5waEgYGgSQX6DTJEWEEOkZ mQRtGDBAgQk0cM6SadXw10IApocAAQAYdJVGSST1+Z4HjzWHTfPy61oTWdz8/5EFAGDI1BodALUH AHrlpFYGQKsGgHXFOrUOAF4CAE+TkiQBQHAAyvqcP7H0T6xJz8gEoFYCAC9nlusBgCed5VYA4KVn ZBKzaz/dLCvUFM166FkAYIIxWIMLeEIgREEyLIVc0EAZbIQaqIcWaIUzcAluwG0YhxfwHsEQNsJH BIgr4o2EIDHIIiQLyUOKkHJkM1KLNCKHkVPIeaQXGURGkafIFPIRpaGGqAXqgIpRfzQMTUAzURJV o6vRCrQGrUcPoe3o92gfOoyOoS/QDxgdM8ZsMRG2AIvC0jA5psG+wLZie7DDWBd2GbuJjWOvcRQ3 xG1wMR6EJ+ArcDVejtfg+/GT+EX8Z/wx/pZCp5hThJRASgJFRimkVFL2UI5Tuik3KU8pH6gGVDuq DzWWmkUtolZR91E7qH3UB9RpGosmoPnS4mnZtDLaTtpR2kXaHdpruh5dQPenp9Dz6RX0RnoXfYA+ yaAyCIYfI5WhYmxmHGR0M+4y3jF5TDEzlqlgVjCbmBeY95i/65npeeul6un0dui16d3Qe8nisESs eJaKtZ3VyupnTekb6c/XT9Mv0d+tf07/Phtl27Oj2Ep2NfsUe4T9kWPDCefkcWo4nZy7BqiBk0G8 QZFBg0GPwaShkaG/odxwi2GH4T0ujevOzeSu5x7n3jLCjURGmUYbjNqMRnkMnhdPxqvmneNNGPON w411xk3GAyaIidhkhUm1yQWTl6Y2pkmm60w7TJ/wzfjR/DJ+K3/MzNRsodlas3azX8wtzBPNK8zP mk/NcZqzfE7tnGsWuIW/hdbiiMW4paVlmuV2y14rzCrAqtjqpNVza2drufU+61HCjEgjviL6bTg2 sTZVNldtGbaRtpW2VwR0QZRgk6DPjmUXZ1dtN2BvbJ9uv8f+voPAIcfhqMMrRy/HNY4/ONGd4pxq ne462zkrnU85f3AJc9nmMjLXdq5ybqcQEcYI64RjrmLXNa69biZuMrc2txlRnKhBNCn2F1eJ77oL 3cvcr3sQHhqPnnmm81bOO+dp6El6np7Pni+b3+XF9pJ7nfHmeiu8L/jwfVb59Pra+q7xHfIT+232 e+wf5F/v/25ByoK2AHZAXkBvoGNgReDjz0I/aw7Cg+RBl4IdgiuDJ0JiQk5IuJJCya3QgNADYbSw /LCBcJ/wxghqRH7EzciAyJYoTlRJ1KOFMQs7o22it0S/i5HH9McGxB6J48dVxL2Jl8cPJkgS2hMF iTuTqEnFSRPJS5J/SglJ6Ux1SW1M46VtTptZVLRoMl2eficjOaMvMzTz/GLvxW1LhEu+XWq7dO8y 82VfL+ctr1nBWbEti5W1RaonrZKxZFvlbHk1ySVrs/nZ9TlETnOuc+4JhafizMrglVfyEvJGlFnK Z/na/I8FG1VcVYPaWd2xKnjVdc0SzYS2REfT7Sp0KOwsiigaKVYUfyjZVmpT2vF55OejqzVraGsa yuaVXV2btfb9FzXlLuUXv1zy5fTfatYJ1/24XrYBNjRU+FWMbCyuNK7s2JS66c3mXVXeVbe2rN5q tbV7G7mdsf14dXL1+5rGHeE7nn9VuzNg55Pa7bt8d419vbXOt278m5rdAbsn9tTVh9e/aWjem9KI N3bsy9nP3993oKzJvelx8zcH41qwltPfqg85Hrr3912H44/Qj3QfXX3M69ir48dOKFodWsfa9p9c 3m7VPnqqoWNZp1Xng+8OdJGnnU7/+o/WM7qzvmdnzl0+v+X7lAsWF8a7j/1QfDG4h9UzfKnpsurH BVcYV4Z7W64W9oVdM7725J/fXd/00+Ibbv1o/9DA4cHyn1NvCoewodvDJ0eqbslvB97h33l99/ro 4Xsb78sfhDwkHs48ujd2frzxcfkT6S+hTx2fMZ/9NjH4a9fk3ufrf8t7kfzS/5XdlP7U29cP/3Xt Tdd089uad2vfK/+9+PeFH/w+uvwxZ0Z/ZubTX24pAUj8AwDgk+e6E2A3AWC49JNn2wtg9Aig+4aO LNEBAEhU6lKNIidXRzhJnAkPsdibkJYSEpVSpSGSVcpCnUJVoBUSwUolkaTIydVpiSRSS2qKSLkb EaOQkQVakpCTuiyFUkvIsgoIKUlkqwoL5ISqwI/I1enUfiJRcXGxGylTuKk0OSJSphCRBSJSpkiK CHFT56qZAiKZVJIyHSkXEtJCHVGg0hH5KrkiW0HKhYS0lIjM0qhJjUSlVCoKtERCoVSp0OaSGi2R Gk0IAABm+w8AANiRkgRidjhR5PHfttSHSJBAAhBAggwUkAQREAIEFIHHX0X+X/0HW76m6SIb/okA AAAJcEhZcwAALiMAAC4jAXilP3YAABL4aVRYdFhNTDpjb20uYWRvYmUueG1wAAAAAAA8P3hwYWNr ZXQgYmVnaW49Iu+7vyIgaWQ9Ilc1TTBNcENlaGlIenJlU3pOVGN6a2M5ZCI/PiA8eDp4bXBtZXRh IHhtbG5zOng9ImFkb2JlOm5zOm1ldGEvIiB4OnhtcHRrPSJBZG9iZSBYTVAgQ29yZSA1LjYtYzE0 NSA3OS4xNjM0OTksIDIwMTgvMDgvMTMtMTY6NDA6MjIgICAgICAgICI+IDxyZGY6UkRGIHhtbG5z OnJkZj0iaHR0cDovL3d3dy53My5vcmcvMTk5OS8wMi8yMi1yZGYtc3ludGF4LW5zIyI+IDxyZGY6 RGVzY3JpcHRpb24gcmRmOmFib3V0PSIiIHhtbG5zOnhtcD0iaHR0cDovL25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94 YXAvMS4wLyIgeG1sbnM6cGhvdG9zaG9wPSJodHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUu
Скачать книгу