The Dead Don't Talk

The Dead Don’t Talk Alex Robert This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real people, past or present, places, actual events or situations are purely coincidental. This book should not be copied, forwarded, resold or given away in any form or means without the express permission of the author. Copyright © 2023 by Alex Robert All rights reserved. Also By Alex Robert Death Sketches In the misty darkness, nobody heard the screams. Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Acknowledgments Available Now Death Sketches Afterword Chapter 1 The streets of the city glistened with the cold winter dampness. Thick mist filled the air, an eerie silence only broken by a passing car. York was deserted, the late evening driving all but the hardy indoors. One group stood alone, their presence appearing out of place and yet their purpose was designed to be exactly that. They were there to search out the sinister and find those places where ghostly souls haunt the night. Four lonely creatures were vulnerable in the darkness of the city’s dimly lit streets. They walked down High Petergate slowly. A figure dressed in black spoke softly. His voice was chilling, the unbroken tone matching the fear of the night. Two of the group huddled together, clutching themselves as one for both warmth and reassurance. They were scared, too scared to utter a single word or step away from the safety of those around them. Progress was slow and almost deathly. A single shuffling step brought the couple closer. A nervous breath was squeezed out by the young lady, her lost face buried within the man’s chest. Above, medieval buildings overhung where they walked, bearing down with sinister intent. The feeling of the rooftops closing in was not lost on the frightened couple. This was York at its ghostly best. Through Bootham Gate, they turned left and saw the road open up. A passing white van made everyone stiffen. Its progress was slow as if looking into the night and searching out the very same souls. Inside, a gaunt face with hollow eyes looked across and examined each of them in turn. The group shuffled forward, oblivious to those watching eyes. On another night, they would have been drawn to it but not when fear was flowing through their veins. Their heads were down and in no mood to offer up their vulnerability. Only when each face had been noted did the van move a little quicker. A press of the pedal forced the engine into life. It left behind three cold and frightened forms to follow the Gothic creature that led them. Watched in the mirror, they posed no Chapter 2 Gregor Banks had been cleared of all charges. That was the verdict, delivered to a raucous cheer from his entourage. He stood shaking the hand of his counsel, a sickly grin as wide as the Ouse spread across his face. There was back-slapping, waves to the gallery and hugs offered all around him. Worst of all, there was a smug acknowledgement to York’s police force that he remained a free man. DI Jack Husker stood aghast. For several months, he had compiled his case. Insects had been dragged from the cracks, rats persuaded to abandon a sinking ship, all terrified with good old-fashioned detective work. Of course, it wasn’t orthodox. They were dealing with crime royalty. Gregor Banks was no ordinary crook. He demanded special attention and, for as long as he could remember, Jack had made it his obsession. There had been late nights in The Cellars, under the guise of needing time to think. Clandestine meetings had been held with those on the periphery of the underworld. Jack had done it all. He had put in the hard yards, gone the extra mile and now all he had to show for it was a smug gangster who would be waiting for him the moment he turned his back. DCI Nick Lang’s face was thunderous. Repeatedly, he had told Jack the case did not stack up. His witnesses were not reliable and the accusation of coercion would be easy to make. Jack had listened, ignored him and, in a weaker moment, broken him down and convinced Lang the charges would stick. Not only had he been spectacularly wrong but now York’s policing standards would be up for independent scrutiny. It was Lisa who Jack felt most sorry for. Unwittingly, he had dragged her into it. As the replacement DS, Lisa Ramsey was only covering until Dan Millings was back to full strength. It was not even her patch. Her job was in Newcastle and it was Jack who had persuaded her to stay. Now she would be sent back, with a permanent stain against her name. How was he to know his main witness