The Bullet That Missed (Thursday Murder Club, #3)(5)

‘She did not,’ says Mike. ‘I’ll tell you what, this red is half decent.’





4





PC Donna De Freitas feels like someone has just punched a hole through the clouds.

She is flooded with heat and warmth, alive with a pleasure both utterly familiar but completely new. She wants to weep with happiness, and to laugh with the uncomplicated joy of life. If she has ever felt happier, she cannot immediately bring it to mind. If the angels were to carry her away this very moment – and if her heart rate was anything to go by that was a possibility – she would let them scoop her up, while she thanked the heavens for a life well lived.

‘How was it?’ asks Bogdan, his hand stroking her hair.

‘It was OK,’ says Donna. ‘For a first time.’

Bogdan nods. ‘I think maybe I can be better.’

Donna buries her head into Bogdan’s chest.

‘Are you crying?’ asks Bogdan. Donna shakes her head without lifting it. Where’s the catch here? Perhaps this is just a one-night thing? What if that’s Bogdan’s style? He’s kind of a loner, isn’t he? What if he’s emotionally unavailable? What if there’s another girl in this bed tomorrow night? White and blonde and twenty-two?

What was he thinking? That was the one question she knew not to ask a man. They were almost always thinking nothing at all, so were thrown by the question, and felt compelled to make something up. She’d still like to know though. What was going on behind those blue eyes? Eyes that could nail you to a wall. The pure blue of … wait a minute, is he crying?

Donna sits up, concerned. ‘Are you crying?’

Bogdan nods.

‘Why are you crying? What’s happened?’

Bogdan looks at her through his gentle tears. ‘I’m so happy you’re here.’

Donna kisses a tear from his cheek. ‘Has anyone ever seen you cry before?’

‘A dentist once,’ says Bogdan. ‘And my mother. Can we go on another date?’

‘Oh, I think so, don’t you?’ says Donna.

‘I think so,’ agrees Bogdan.

Donna rests her head on his chest again, comfortably settling on a tattoo of a knife wrapped in barbed wire. ‘Maybe next time we do something other than Nando’s and Laser Quest though?’

‘Agreed,’ says Bogdan. ‘Next time perhaps I should choose instead?’

‘I think that’s for the best, yes,’ says Donna. ‘It’s not my strong point. But you had fun?’

‘Sure, I liked Laser Quest.’

‘You really did, didn’t you?’ says Donna. ‘That children’s birthday party didn’t know what had hit them.’

‘It’s a good lesson for them,’ says Bogdan. ‘Fighting is mainly hiding. It’s good to learn that early.’

Donna looks over at Bogdan’s bedside table. There is a body-builder’s hand-grip, a can of Lilt and the plastic gold medal he won at Laser Quest. What has she found herself here? A fellow traveller?

‘Do you ever feel different from other people, Bogdan? Like you’re outside looking in?’

‘Well, English is my second language,’ says Bogdan. ‘And I don’t really understand cricket. Do you feel different?’

‘Yes,’ says Donna. ‘People make me feel different, I suppose.’

‘But sometimes you like to feel different maybe? Sometimes it’s good?’

‘Sometimes, of course. I’d like to choose those times myself. Most days I just want to blend in, but in Fairhaven I don’t get the chance.’

‘Everyone wants to feel special, but nobody wants to feel different,’ says Bogdan.

Just look at those shoulders. Two questions come to her at once: are Polish weddings like English weddings? And would it be OK if I rolled over and went to sleep?

‘Can I ask you a question, Donna?’ Bogdan suddenly sounds very serious.

Uh oh.

‘Of course,’ says Donna. ‘Anything.’ Anything within reason.

‘If you had to murder someone, how would you do it?’

‘Hypothetically?’ asks Donna.

‘No, for real,’ says Bogdan. ‘We are not children. You’re a police officer. How would you do it? To get away with it?’

Hmm. Is this Bogdan’s downside? He’s a serial murderer? That would be tough to overlook. Not impossible though, given those shoulders.

‘What’s happening here?’ asks Donna. ‘Why are you asking me that?’

‘It’s homework for Elizabeth. She wanted to know my thoughts.’

OK, that makes sense. What a relief. Bogdan is not a homicidal maniac; Elizabeth is. ‘Poison, I suppose,’ says Donna. ‘Something undetectable anyway.’

‘Yes, make it look natural,’ agrees Bogdan. ‘Make it look like not a murder.’

‘Maybe drive a car at them, late at night,’ says Donna. ‘Anything where you don’t have to touch the body, that’s where forensics will get you. Or a gun, nice and simple, one shot, blam, and get out quick, the whole thing away from security cameras. Plan your escape route of course, that’s essential too. No forensics, no witnesses, no body to bury, that’s how I’d do it. Phone off, or leave your phone in a cab, so it’s miles away when you’re committing the murder. Bribe a nurse, maybe get vials of blood from strangers and leave them on the body. Or …’