Dan Sharp Mysteries 6-Book Bundle. Jeffrey Round

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Dan Sharp Mysteries 6-Book Bundle - Jeffrey Round A Dan Sharp Mystery

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sir — it’s just orders. I really can’t say more than that.”

      “There are no drugs in my house,” Dan said, though he doubted that was what they were really after. “Who authorized this?”

      The officer shook his head. “Just orders, sir.”

      Dan knew he’d get nothing out of him. He let them do their dirty work. It was more than four hours before the officer nodded ruefully at him and they left empty-handed. He thought of Saylor’s message again. No need to call back now.

      Dan felt sickened and violated as he surveyed the state of his home. He made a half-hearted attempt to restore order then gave up. It was impossible to decide where to start. Even the wall calendar was ajar, as if the wise mother and her joyful brood had lost their taste for gravity. He gave up and took Ralph for a much-needed walk.

      Upstairs at Spring Rolls, lunch hour was in full swing. Donny listened to Dan describe the previous night’s events as he struggled with his chopsticks. It was the only thing Dan had ever seen him look incompetent at.

      “They did everything but crawl up my ass.”

      “That would have been cosy.”

      Dan cocked a baleful eye at him.

      “And what were they looking for, do you think? Pirated DVDs? Stolen iPods? Teenage runaways?”

      “I think they were looking for Craig Killingworth’s diary,” Dan said.

      “Yeah — me too. Funny, that.” Donny raised a noodle to his face. It fell just before it reached his mouth.

      Dan watched impatiently. “So — what did you think?”

      “I read it.” Donny reached for a fork and speared a cut of chicken.

      “And?”

      “Deplorable, nasty, unsettling, sick. I wouldn’t wish his wife on my worst enemy.”

      “But do you agree she was directly responsible for his suicide?”

      Donny chewed contemplatively, buying time before he spoke. “I think Craig Killingworth sounds like a man who was desperate. A man who had tried to commit suicide once and failed, and might very well try again. But what good is it going to do you to track this down? Why not just hand it over to the family and be done with it? Before you get arrested for handling stolen property. Or worse,” he added darkly.

      Dan stared in disbelief. “The family? Have you heard a word I said? The family is who I’m keeping it from!”

      “Why can’t you just accept that the man changed his mind and went east instead of west? It wouldn’t be the first time a man living under duress made a snap decision. He was feeling pressured by his wife as well as his lover and he just couldn’t handle it. So he got on the ferry, crossed to the other side and disappeared down the road.”

      Dan shook his head. “There are so many things that don’t make sense. He was leaving town on a bicycle without taking any of his belongings? Give me a break! And why not stay and fight it out?”

      “The diary tells you why — he’d cracked. She’d won. He just gave up the battle, rode out of town on his bicycle.…”

      “…and was never heard from again. Come on! You don’t believe that any more than I do.”

      Donny held up a finger. “It’s not what I believe. It’s what makes sense for you to live with. That may be as close to an answer as you get. There’s no proof he’s dead. And if he is, there’s no proof she knowingly participated in his suicide or even that she handed him the razor blades and stood by and watched.”

      Dan narrowed his eyes. “So what are you saying?”

      “Think about why you’re doing this.”

      Dan shook his head in exasperation.

      “No, really,” Donny said. “If you go down this road any further, you’ll be stuck in a dead man’s world.” Dan grimaced at the words. “Whatever happened, it was his choice. If he died, he died by his own hand. It was terrible what she drove him to, but it’s too late to save him now.”

      Dan looked out the window and watched the sprawl of traffic. The waiter gathered Dan’s empty plate and gave a look of contempt at Donny’s half-full one. Donny uncharacteristically waited till the man left before speaking again, this time in softer tones.

      “Think about it. They’ve torn apart your house and threatened you with a lawsuit — which by your own admission you came close to deserving.” Dan glanced up sharply, but Donny silenced him. “Who’s the one person you’ve really been scratching around in the dirt trying to find all these years?” Dan shook his head. “Well, let me tell you, Daniel. That person is you. That’s who you really need to find. And before it’s too late.” Donny handed over the diary. “For now, I’d say you’re very lucky they didn’t find this.”

      “Did you make the copies?”

      Donny sighed and nodded his head. “Yes, I made the copies. I stood in Kinko’s for an hour and a half turning pages. You owe me big time again. Not to mention the mounting babysitting charges.”

      He’d walked Ralph and was nearly ready to settle in himself. The phone rang and Ked’s excited voice cut through the wires. “Hey, Dad!”

      “Hey, Ked. How are things at your mom’s?”

      “Fine. She’s not as good a cook as you, though. When can I come home?”

      “Not yet, but soon.”

      Dan thought how much he’d missed his son in the few days they’d been apart.

      “Are you going to tell me what’s going on then?”

      “Soon … real soon.”

      “Is it some kind of secret mission you’re on?”

      “Something like that. Listen, how’s school?”

      “Good. Eph got an A+ in English. His paper on Blade Runner blew us all away. The teacher made him read it aloud in class. She said it was the best paper she’d ever had.”

      Dan thought about this for a moment. “Why wasn’t your paper that good?”

      “Give me a break! Isn’t it enough that I have a genius for a best friend? Do I have to be one too?” Ked thought about for it a moment. “He sucks at basketball, though.”

      Twenty-Six

      Restoration

      Dan got up before six, in the dark. He called to leave a message for Sally saying he was taking a few days off and asking her to cancel his appointments. He set the diary on his desk in his calm, green-toned office. He’d thought long and hard about what he was about to do. He picked up the phone again and dialled the law firm that had requested him to find Craig Killingworth. He heard it ringing in someone’s empty office until the answering service picked up. He spoke slowly and clearly. He had proof of what happened to

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