Authors: Damien Boyd
Head in the Sand (19 page)
‘You blame him for what’s happened to your husband. David blamed the doctors for the deaths of Rosie and Frances and you blame them for his dementia.’
Jean Selby tried to wipe her tears away with her left hand.
‘Look what they’ve done to him.’
‘Look what they’ve done to you, Jean,’ said Dixon.
She began to sob.
‘I’ve watched him tear himself apart for over thirty years and now this. And it’s their fault,’ she screamed. ‘I’m finishing what he started.’
Dixon could hear footsteps coming along the corridor. They were running. Jean Selby pointed the knife at Dixon.
‘Stay back.’
Sirens could be heard in the distance. Jean Selby glanced to her left out of the window. She lowered the knife. Not much but enough. Dixon took his chance. He ran forward, three paces, stepped up onto the coffee table and launched himself at Jean Selby.
She turned at the last moment and tried to bring the knife back up to meet him. Dixon tried to knock it from her grasp with his left hand as he flew through the air. At the same time he pushed her head back with his right. He felt a solid blow to his left shoulder. Jean Selby fell back. Dixon landed on top of her. He tried to get up and found himself kneeling astride her. She was screaming and flailing at him with her fists. He tried to restrain her but his left arm wouldn’t move. He managed to take hold of her left wrist with his right hand and then used his left knee to hold down her right arm.
‘You’re not going anywhere, Jean.’
Dixon heard footsteps. The next thing he knew Jane Winter was standing over him. He felt her hands underneath his arms and she dragged him back off Jean Selby. He sat back against the wall underneath the bay window and looked up at Jane. There were tears in her eyes. He looked across at Jean Selby to see PC Cole holding her arms behind her back and reaching for his handcuffs.
Dixon looked back to Jane Winter.
‘Spalding?’
‘He slept through it.’
Dixon nodded. He heard the clicking of handcuffs being snapped shut and then the crackle of a radio.
‘Control, this is 2562 Cole. We need an ambulance immediately at the Allandale Lodge Care Home, Burnham. An officer has been stabbed.’
Dixon looked quizzically at Jane. Then he looked down at his left shoulder. He could see a black plastic handle sticking out of it and blood pouring down the left side of his chest. He stared at it for several seconds before reaching for the knife with his right hand. Jane reached down and held his hand.
‘Leave it,’ she said.
Suddenly, the pain hit him. Then he passed out.
Dixon opened his eyes to find Jane sitting on the end of his bed.
‘Where...?’
‘Weston hospital. A private room. You’ve had an operation on your shoulder.’
Dixon looked down. The handle of the knife had gone and been replaced with bandages. He tried to move his left arm and winced.
‘Don’t do that,’ said Jane. She moved up the bed and sat next to him.
‘What time is it?’ he asked.
‘Half past eight.’
A nurse walked into the room and stood at the end of his bed.
‘You’re awake.’
‘I am.’
‘You’ve had an operation on your shoulder. The knife has gone, as you can see. I’ll call the doctor to have a word with you.’
‘Thank you.’
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Sick.’
‘That’ll be the painkillers. I can get the doctor to give you something for that. I’ll be back in a minute.’
The nurse left and Dixon turned to Jane.
‘Where’s Monty?’
‘I fed him and left him at home.’
‘Thanks. Will you...?’
‘Of course, I will.’
Jane leant forward and kissed Dixon on the lips. He looked over to see DCI Lewis watching them through the small window in the door.
‘Oops.’
‘I don’t know what you’re worrying about. We’ve all known for ages,’ said Lewis, walking into the room.
Dixon pretended to look surprised.
‘You forget I’m a detective too,’ said Lewis.
‘And it’s not a problem?’ asked Dixon.
‘Of course not.’
‘Where’s Jean Selby?’
‘Bridgwater. She’s been interviewed and has confessed to the murders of Valerie Manning and John Hawkins.’
‘Who interviewed her?’
‘I did. With Dave Harding,’ replied Lewis. ‘She’s one angry woman. She blamed them for her husband’s illness. The stress of watching his wife and child die, bottled up inside him for all those years. And then she had to watch his descent into dementia.’
‘Can stress cause dementia?’ asked Dixon.
‘Stress can cause hypertension, which can be a cause of vascular dementia, according to Wikipedia.’
‘What about Cromwell?’
‘Gone back to work.’
‘Poor bastard.’
‘The doctors tell me there’s no permanent damage.’
‘That’s more than they’ve told me.’
‘You have only just woken up,’ said Jane.
‘Take as long as you need, Nick. We’ll speak next week about your statement but there’s no rush.’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘I’m working on a traffic case at the moment,’ said Lewis.
‘Traffic?’ asked Jane.
‘Yes. Someone crashed into a parked car at Mark last week and then drove off. Failing to stop, failing to report. Serious stuff.’
‘How hard are you going to look?’ asked Dixon.
‘I’ve closed the case already,’ replied Lewis. ‘No witnesses.’ He got up to leave. He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a packet of fruit pastilles. He threw them onto the bed next to Dixon. ‘Put these in your glove box.’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘Idiot.’
‘Thank you, Sir.’
Lewis stopped in the doorway and turned to Dixon.
‘And well done.’
OUT NOW
Trainee jockey, Noel Woodman, has been kicked to death by an aggressive stallion at a horse racing stables near Bridgwater. Everyone is convinced it was an accident, except his brother, Jon, home on leave from Afghanistan.
Still recovering from the physical and mental scars of his last case, DI Nick Dixon is drawn into the investigation at the point of a gun and soon begins peeling away the layers of secrets and lies.
With the pressure mounting, his determination to unlock the case is tested to the limit, and, as the hunt for the killer gathers pace, Dixon finds himself fighting for his life in the dead of night.
The third in the DI Nick Dixon Crime Series, Kickback follows on from Head In The Sand, which has been described as 'brilliant'.
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http://www.amazon.ca/dp/B00IODZ3PC/