Frost at Midnight (DI Jack Frost Prequel)

About the Book

August, 1983. Denton is preparing for a wedding. Detective Sergeant Waters should be on top of the world with less than a week to go until he marries Kim Myles. But the Sunday before the big day, instead of having a run-through with his best man, the church is sealed off. The body of a young woman has been found in the churchyard, and their idyllic wedding venue has become a crime scene.

Detective Inspector Jack Frost has been homeless for the past three months, ever since his wife’s family sold the matrimonial home. He’s been staying with Detective Constable Sue Clarke, but with a baby to take care of and the imminent arrival of her mother, she’s given him his marching orders.

But as best man to Waters, Frost has got a responsibility to solve the mystery of the dead girl in the churchyard. Can he put his own troubles aside and be the detective they need him to be?

All in all, August looks set to be a wicked month in Denton …

Frost at Midnight

JAMES HENRY

Prologue

‘That’ll be an extra fiver,’ she said in a business-like fashion, already out of bed and perched – still naked – in front of the dressing-table mirror brushing her long auburn hair.

‘I beg your pardon?’ He reached inside the bed, fumbling to find his underwear.

‘An extra five quid for all that … all that funny business.’

‘Oh … you never said before, I haven’t got that much on me.’

She turned to face him. ‘That’s because it never used to take that long, and look’ – she pointed with the hairbrush – ‘look at these marks. I can’t have this, can I. What if my other punters start to notice?’

He felt himself colour.

‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled. In truth, though, he did it on purpose – the blemishes; he didn’t want her having any other punters. He wanted her all to himself but he could barely afford a fortnightly visit these days, let alone with this surcharge. It incensed him that she’d go with others – she occupied his thoughts every minute of the day. He’d once asked her on a date, to the cinema (not in Denton, of course he couldn’t risk that; Reading or one of the bigger towns). She’d laughed in his face. Date clients? ‘You’ll be wanting to pimp for me next,’ she’d snorted in a common way that made his skin crawl. As if he’d do that. The very idea.

He watched as she stood to pull up her suspender belt; in less than an hour she’d be taking it off again for someone else, probably some scum with more money than him … she never stopped going on about what she called her ‘richer gents’. He couldn’t stand it.

What if she couldn’t work? Just for a while maybe; out of action for a spell, needing somebody to help out … He’d be well placed to assist, what with—

‘Come on, out of there.’ She scowled. ‘You better not have made a mess!’

He got out of bed and dressed hurriedly, his mind working away feverishly while he made a show of smoothing the sheets, plumping a pillow. Some minor accident, a fall maybe. Nothing too serious.

He handed over the cash, and thanked her obsequiously. She took it without comment and seated herself again at the dressing table. ‘Same time in two weeks?’ he ventured.

‘I can’t. Sorry, have to be in September.’ Her attention now, having received her payment, was on her make-up. He was forgotten.

‘Why?’ he croaked. Not to see her for three weeks, what would he do? Maybe she was going away … with another man? ‘Why? I need to …’

‘Just because,’ she said to herself in the mirror. ‘In the meantime, you can always …’ and then that annoying titter of hers slipped into her voice. He froze. ‘You can always do some knitting.’ She held a tissue to her lips. ‘A nice long scarf for the winter?’ She was laughing now.

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About the Book

Contents

Frost at Midnight

JAMES HENRY

Prologue

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