Sirens by Joseph Knox Read Online (FREE)
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About the Book
Isabelle Rossiter has run away again.
When Aidan Waits, a troubled junior detective, is summoned to her father’s penthouse home, he finds a manipulative man, with powerful friends.
But retracing Isabelle’s steps through a dark, nocturnal world, Waits finds something else. An intelligent seventeen-year-old girl who’s scared to death of something. As he investigates her story, and the unsolved disappearance of a young woman just like her, he realizes Isabelle was right to run away.
Soon Waits is cut loose by his superiors, stalked by an unseen killer and dangerously attracted to the wrong woman. He’s out of his depth and out of time.
How can he save the girl, when he can’t even save himself?
‘The past is now part of my future, the present is well out of hand.’
Joy Division, ‘Heart and Soul’
Afterwards I went back on to the night shift. They’d never trust me in the daylight again. I spent my time responding to 4 a.m. emergency calls, walking up and down dead escalators and trying not to think. I’d been good at that once. I could hardly believe it, a few months later, when I saw my breath in the air again. Saw November coming back around.
‘Shittin’ it down,’ said Sutty, refusing to get out of the car. Sometimes it was hailstones and sometimes it was slush. Tonight it was sheet rain, catching the light and cleaning down the streets. They needed it. My partner handed me his newspaper and I got out of the car, holding it over my head as an umbrella.
We were responding to a call from the manager of a charity shop. I watched his mouth moving. He wanted me to shift along some homeless people sheltering in the building’s doorway. It didn’t make a lot of sense but, then again, I wasn’t paying close attention. His nasal hairs were jet black and matted together, like the start of Hitler’s moustache. I looked at the sleeping man and woman in the doorway, told him he was wasting police time, and walked back through the rain to the car.
I climbed inside and handed Sutty the wet newspaper, his punishment for not coming with me. He gave me a look and then turned to a dripping, folded-down page.
‘See this?’ he said, holding out the paper and gauging my reaction. ‘No way to die, that, is it?’
The picture was blurred with rain, the text too, but I recognized the girl. She’d been one of a group, one of three I’d known briefly, the previous year. The subheading said she’d been twenty-three years old when she died. Twenty-two when I knew her. I looked out the window, at November, coming back around. She was the last of them. Sutty leaned in, cleared his throat with a graveyard cough.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘What happened there, really?’
I looked at him steadily. ‘You’re asking the wrong person.’