Hurt (The Hurt Series) Read Online Free
Author: D.B. Reeves
were hungry, and could they have a sandwich? Jessop saw an adorable little boy with curly black hair and beautiful mocha skin toddle into the kitchen wearing just a nappy.
Carly turned to Jessop. ‘You mind if I...’
Forgetting she’d had a rare lay in this morning, and that it was approaching lunchtime, she said, ‘Of course not.’
Mason’s phone rang. Excusing himself, Jessop was left watching the young mother prepare two cheese sandwiches. She informed Carly that the whole block was a crime scene, and to expect some commotion and inconvenience for the next forty-eight hours. Carly understood, her bottom lip quivering as she handed the plate of sandwiches to Daley.
‘You got a fella, Carly?’ Jessop asked.
Carly fingered another cigarette from her pack, offered a weak smile as she sparked up and glanced around the messy kitchen. ‘Why would any bloke want me?’
Bringing her daughter Chloe up alone, Jessop knew all too well the repelling power a kid can have on a potential boyfriend. She offered Carly her most empathic smile, which was lost in a plume of cigarette smoke and grief as the young mother's puffy eyes once again welled with tears.
She thanked Carly for her time, left the flat, and stepped back out onto the landing, where Mason acknowledged her and switched the phone call he was on to loud speaker. ‘It's Tom.’
‘What you got, Tom?’
‘Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding,’ said DC Tom Davies, the newest and youngest member of her team. ‘It’s the beginning of a quote by Kahlil Gibran, a Lebanese/American poet, artist, and philosopher. The rest of the quote being: It is the bitter potion which the physician within you heals your sick self, so therefore trust your physician and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity.’
‘What’s Gibran’s story?’
‘Died in 1931, but left a pretty impressive legacy with his book of poetry The Prophet. To date, it’s sold over a hundred million copies worldwide, and after Shakespeare and Lao-Tzu, Gibran is considered the third most read poet in history.’
‘Any extreme religious or political beliefs?’
‘Nothing I can see to evoke any violent tendencies in a fan. Gibran was a good Christian who championed peace and love for all. Hell, John Lennon even pinched one of his lines.’
'Great.' She thanked Davies, instructed him to keep digging into Gibran’s works, and nodded to Mason to hang up.
‘Never had Junior Dennis down as a Beatles fan,’ she mused aloud. ‘More a reggae man.’
Mason’s eyes widened. ‘You know Junior?’
‘I busted him for dealing blow a couple of times when I worked vice. Him and his scumbag cousin Lennox Tyler.’
Mason’s eyes narrowed back into their familiar dark slits. ‘Lennox Tyler... Manager of Revels nightclub, right?’
‘Yep. Tanya’s regular Saturday night haunt.’
Chapter Four
Neil Harris had not liked Lurch from the moment he’d invited himself into their pitiful lives yesterday. All were welcome beneath the bridge, and many like Lurch, loners looking for companionship and shelter for a few days, had come and gone without fuss. But this lanky six and a half footer with his shaggy hair, sunken cheeks, and glazed red eyes had trouble written all over him.
Neil had learned a long time ago anyone
that
quiet had issues best kept to themselves. If not for the bottles of cider he’d brought to share with his new so-called friends, he would have asked the silent stranger to move on. If he’d refused, then Neil would have insisted the he leave.
Lurch may have a good half a foot on him, but when it came to surviving on the streets, Neil had a good ten years on the freak.
Neil took a swig from the Tennants can and passed it to George, who hadn’t spotted the imminent arrival of the newcomer he'd named after the butler from The Addam's Family. George was still preaching to Ricky about the city’s 1974 football squad being able to whip this year’s
Carly turned to Jessop. ‘You mind if I...’
Forgetting she’d had a rare lay in this morning, and that it was approaching lunchtime, she said, ‘Of course not.’
Mason’s phone rang. Excusing himself, Jessop was left watching the young mother prepare two cheese sandwiches. She informed Carly that the whole block was a crime scene, and to expect some commotion and inconvenience for the next forty-eight hours. Carly understood, her bottom lip quivering as she handed the plate of sandwiches to Daley.
‘You got a fella, Carly?’ Jessop asked.
Carly fingered another cigarette from her pack, offered a weak smile as she sparked up and glanced around the messy kitchen. ‘Why would any bloke want me?’
Bringing her daughter Chloe up alone, Jessop knew all too well the repelling power a kid can have on a potential boyfriend. She offered Carly her most empathic smile, which was lost in a plume of cigarette smoke and grief as the young mother's puffy eyes once again welled with tears.
She thanked Carly for her time, left the flat, and stepped back out onto the landing, where Mason acknowledged her and switched the phone call he was on to loud speaker. ‘It's Tom.’
‘What you got, Tom?’
‘Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding,’ said DC Tom Davies, the newest and youngest member of her team. ‘It’s the beginning of a quote by Kahlil Gibran, a Lebanese/American poet, artist, and philosopher. The rest of the quote being: It is the bitter potion which the physician within you heals your sick self, so therefore trust your physician and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity.’
‘What’s Gibran’s story?’
‘Died in 1931, but left a pretty impressive legacy with his book of poetry The Prophet. To date, it’s sold over a hundred million copies worldwide, and after Shakespeare and Lao-Tzu, Gibran is considered the third most read poet in history.’
‘Any extreme religious or political beliefs?’
‘Nothing I can see to evoke any violent tendencies in a fan. Gibran was a good Christian who championed peace and love for all. Hell, John Lennon even pinched one of his lines.’
'Great.' She thanked Davies, instructed him to keep digging into Gibran’s works, and nodded to Mason to hang up.
‘Never had Junior Dennis down as a Beatles fan,’ she mused aloud. ‘More a reggae man.’
Mason’s eyes widened. ‘You know Junior?’
‘I busted him for dealing blow a couple of times when I worked vice. Him and his scumbag cousin Lennox Tyler.’
Mason’s eyes narrowed back into their familiar dark slits. ‘Lennox Tyler... Manager of Revels nightclub, right?’
‘Yep. Tanya’s regular Saturday night haunt.’
Chapter Four
Neil Harris had not liked Lurch from the moment he’d invited himself into their pitiful lives yesterday. All were welcome beneath the bridge, and many like Lurch, loners looking for companionship and shelter for a few days, had come and gone without fuss. But this lanky six and a half footer with his shaggy hair, sunken cheeks, and glazed red eyes had trouble written all over him.
Neil had learned a long time ago anyone
that
quiet had issues best kept to themselves. If not for the bottles of cider he’d brought to share with his new so-called friends, he would have asked the silent stranger to move on. If he’d refused, then Neil would have insisted the he leave.
Lurch may have a good half a foot on him, but when it came to surviving on the streets, Neil had a good ten years on the freak.
Neil took a swig from the Tennants can and passed it to George, who hadn’t spotted the imminent arrival of the newcomer he'd named after the butler from The Addam's Family. George was still preaching to Ricky about the city’s 1974 football squad being able to whip this year’s
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