Scared to Death: A gripping crime thriller you won’t be able to put down

‘No?’

‘Why not?’

‘Why do you think? I wasn’t going to question a woman on her toilet habits, was I? Anyway, all hell broke loose when we found Foster. Utter fucking panic. My guard detachment were all new recruits, all sixteen, and they thought that the Islamic fuckin’ State had invaded Blackdown. It was like trying to control a herd of chickens.’

‘Flock.’

‘Wot?’ The corporal reached to scratch the back of his head – an action that brought to Callan’s mind a cartoon character wrestling with a particularly knotty problem – and his sleeve rode up to reveal the tattoo of a girl on his forearm. She was artfully arranged on all fours, her bottom, clad only in a tiny red G-string, facing the viewer. She was looking back over her left shoulder; a waterfall of blonde hair cascaded over her right. The look on her face was pure suggestion, or as suggestive as could be achieved with the medium of tattoo ink on a canvas of hairy skin.

‘Nice tat,’ Callan muttered.

‘Like it?’ Harris hadn’t clocked the irony in his voice.

Callan’s gaze narrowed. ‘What do you think about women, Corporal?’

A wolfish smile. ‘I love women, Captain.’

‘In the Army, Corporal?’

‘I don’t notice.’

‘You don’t notice women?’

‘I don’t notice women in green, sir.’

The sound of a rough diesel engine and a four-tonner drove past the window, scaring the warring pigeons into flight.

‘What was Foster like?’ Callan asked.

Harris shrugged. ‘A bit of a wimp, I’d say.’

‘Why?’

Another careless lift of his shoulders. ‘He seemed to be, is all.’

‘Did he shirk his duties?’

‘No.’

‘Did he complain?’

‘No.’

‘Did he take time off sick?’

‘No.’

Callan was getting sick of the attitude. ‘So what?’ he snapped.

Dropping the Zippo with a clatter on to the table, Harris sighed. ‘Look, I’ve heard about you, sir.’ Callan noticed Harris’s gaze flick to the scar on his temple. ‘I’ve heard about you and I respect you. But who the hell would you want watching your back, somewhere like Afghanistan? When you’ve got some crazy jihadi comin’ at you? When you’re in the middle of a firefight? Do you really want some woman or some young wimp backing you up?’ His dark gaze searched Callan’s face from under his black, spiky fringe. ‘Who would you want next to you, sir?’

‘Someone who is brave and professional,’ Callan said.

‘Brave and professional. Right, yeah, me too. But they’re not typical wimps’ or female traits are they?’

‘Aren’t they?’

The corporal looked uncomfortable; he’d expected Callan’s matey support and hadn’t got it. Callan glanced at his watch – 5.30 p.m. – a darker haze muddying the sky outside the window.

‘What’s Marley stand for?’

‘Huh?’

Callan indicated Harris’s other arm, where the words ‘Marley’ were visible tattooed in black on the inside of his wrist.

‘It’s my nickname.’

‘Why Marley?’

‘It’s just a nickname, sir.’ His tone cagey.

‘After the dog?’

Harris frowned. ‘Wot dog?’

‘There was a film, wasn’t there? Marley and Me. About a dog called Marley.’

‘No,’ Harris snapped. ‘It’s not after any fuckin’ dog.’

‘What then?’ Callan pressed.

‘I’ve had it for years.’ He blinked and his eyes slid from Callan’s. ‘Can’t even remember who gave it to me. Probably my parents.’

Callan sighed. He’d had enough. He wanted out. ‘Thanks for your help, Harris. We’re done.’ He paused. ‘For now.’

Harris’s narrow lips cracked into a grin. ‘Great.’

Callan pushed himself to his feet. ‘You know that you’ve made yourself a suspect, don’t you?’

The grin vanished. ‘Wot? I was alone for five fucking minutes. Ten max.’

‘Your accommodation block is on the other side of the base. It’s going to take more than ten minutes for someone to get there, find your cigarettes and get back.’

Harris’s eyes blazed. ‘The other guard,’ he spluttered.

Callan held up a hand, silencing him. ‘If my girlfriend was off travelling for six months, I’d want to spend more than ten minutes with her.’ Callan smiled. ‘Unless I had a hair-trigger. Does he have a hair-trigger, Harris, or should I ask him that question?’

The muscles along Harris’s jaw bulged.