The Red Cobra (James Ryker #1)

‘I’m just saying. Don’t assume it’s a he.’


‘Thanks for the lesson,’ Green said, his irritation evident. It looked like Ryker’s initial assessment of Green had been spot on. Here was a man who really didn’t like to be questioned.

‘My point was about the body,’ Green said. ‘Left on display like that, in the hallway of her home. The killer – he or she or it or whatever you want to say – wanted her to be found that way.’

Ryker didn’t say a word for a minute or two. Slowly he could see Green calming again. Ryker wasn’t going to set out to rile the detective, but he also wasn’t the type to sit back and keep schtum when the obvious needed stating.

‘Where was Walker?’ Ryker asked.

‘Playing golf,’ Green said. ‘Three of his friends confirm they were with him. And four members of staff at the golf club say they saw him there that day.’

‘And was he home on time?’

‘Actually he was later than planned. By about two hours.’

‘Why?’

‘Just was. Drinking. Eating. Socialising. Business. Whatever rich men do after golf.’

Green said the last words with a hint of contempt. Or was it jealousy?

‘He was supposed to find the body,’ Ryker said.

Green shrugged. ‘Maybe.’

‘And you say you have no theories?’

‘I didn’t say that exactly.’

‘No, not exactly. But you’ve not been very open about what you think happened, either.’

‘I’ve told you everything I know,’ Green protested.

‘No, you’ve told me all the facts. You haven’t told me what you think.’

‘What I think?’

‘Why do you think Kim Walker was killed?’

‘I haven’t a clue.’

‘It’s pretty damn obvious to me.’

‘Obvious?’ Green said, offended. ‘Go on then, tell me.’

‘One way or another, Kim Walker was killed because of Patrick Walker. Her husband. I’m certain of it.’





CHAPTER 17


‘Jesus fucking Christ,’ Green said.

Ryker raised an eyebrow.

‘And there’s you warning me about making assumptions,’ Green added, a look of incredulity on his sweat-drenched face.

‘It’s not an assumption,’ Ryker said. ‘It’s a deduction. Or call it a hypothesis if you like.’

‘I don’t think Patrick Walker killed his wife.’

‘No. He didn’t. I didn’t say that.’

‘And I don’t think he paid to have her killed either.’

‘Because?’

‘Because there’s no motive for him to do so.’

‘How about because he was screwing someone else behind her back.’

Green said nothing. He took another sip of his wine but his gaze never once left Ryker.

‘You knew about that, right?’ Ryker asked.

‘Yes.’

‘And do you think it’s connected?’

‘No.’

‘Who is she?’

‘Her name’s Eva.’

‘Where can I find her?’

‘I already spoke to her. The Spanish police too. I’m not sure what you expect her to tell you. She’s a kid. Twenty-three.’

‘You said I can’t speak to Walker either. So who exactly would you like me to speak to?’

‘I didn’t say that. Just that I don’t think you should go around harassing everyone. There’s plenty of material, statements, that the locals and I have put together that you can read.’

‘Yeah. Because all of those statements have gotten you so far already.’

‘Oh, so you think everyone’s going to all of a sudden give a different story, tell us exactly what happened, just because you’re on the scene now?’

‘I can but try,’ Ryker said, smiling. Green didn’t reciprocate. ‘You already told me you don’t know why Kim Walker was killed or who did it. So I’m not sure why I’d waste my time reading your reports. You can help me here or I can do this on my own. But one way or another, I’ll get to the bottom of what’s happened.’

Green sighed and poured himself another glass of wine. ‘Do you want to work with me? Because I get the sense you’re not really looking to do that. That you’re a lone wolf who’d rather tread on everyone’s toes.’

‘I’ll do whatever’s needed.’

‘I was like you once,’ Green said after taking a long drag of wine from his glass.

‘I don’t think you were.’

Green shook his head. ‘It’s true. I was headstrong like you, never trusted anyone, always thought I’d do a better job than anyone else would.’

‘You’re using the past tense. You don’t think that way anymore?’

‘Of course I do. But I’m not as naive as I used to be. I see now that such an approach doesn’t always work in my favour. And when I see those same faults in other people, it’s always so damn obvious.’

Ryker stopped for a few seconds as Green’s words sunk in. There was a lot of truth to them. That was the way Ryker had always been. As an agent for the JIA, he was supposed to have done nothing but follow orders. Never question, just do. But whatever training they’d put Ryker through, however much they’d tried to control his mind, make him nothing more than a killing machine, he had always fought back. He’d always questioned and looked for answers. It was simply part of his nature, something that could never be taken away from him.

In the end, it was one of the main reasons why Ryker’s career with the JIA had come to such a spectacular close.

‘Where can I find Eva?’ Ryker asked.

Green sighed then reached for his mobile phone. He tapped away before reading off an address to Ryker, who made a mental note.

‘It’s her father’s place,’ Green said. ‘Like I said, she’s a kid.’

‘A kid who was screwing Patrick Walker.’

‘I don’t pretend to understand the whys and wherefores, I’m just saying.’

‘Thanks for lunch,’ Ryker said as he wiped his mouth with his napkin. ‘I’ll pay next time.’

‘You’re not going over there like that, are you?’

‘What, would you rather drink some more wine first?’

‘Okay, Ryker. I know you’re eager to figure this out,’ Green said, glaring. ‘And that’s good. But if you bite off more than you can chew, if you go rubbing up the wrong people the wrong way, it’s not going to end well for you.’

‘Noted.’

‘Be careful out there.’

Ryker walked away from the table, Green’s words swimming in his head. His first impression of Green had been right, that was for sure. But he sensed there was even more to Green’s awkwardness than him being an over-the-hill middle-ranked detective with a beef against the world. Ryker got the impression he was scared. But of what?

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