‘I’m sorry.’ The words broke the spell. They let the truth in. McMillan was dead. She’d lost the power to keep him alive.
There was blood on her hands, on the skirt of her uniform. But it really didn’t matter any more.
Lottie turned her head. Del Vecchio was sprawled on the ground. Half his face was gone, a dark pool soaking into the dirt by his head. His right arm was angled away from his body, still holding the pistol.
Ellison put his arm around her shoulders. He felt warm. Human. Alive. But Lottie pulled away. She closed her eyes, wishing the world would just go away, that she’d blink and vanish.
But it could never be so easy. Life wouldn’t let that happen. It needed cruelty. It demanded blood sacrifices. She heard the ambulance men load the second body and close the back doors of the van.
When she looked again, some of the workers had gathered near the factory gates, smoking and watching them.
‘I guess your guys will be out here pretty soon,’ Ellison said.
‘Yes.’ They’d gather their evidence and take their statements. But words wouldn’t bring John McMillan back. They wouldn’t make his death reasonable.
‘I had to do it,’ Ellison said. The words seemed to rush out of him. ‘He’d have gotten away with it otherwise. They’d have shipped him out, the brass would have avoided a political incident and they’d have put it all behind them.’ He turned to look at her, pain in his eyes.
Inspector Andrews questioned her. Smith was with Ellison. One of the women from the mill brought out mugs of tea, hot and strong and sweet. As she held it she realised how cold her hands were.
She talked, living through it all again, seeing everything and feeling the wrench in her heart. She saw Ellison walk away and start the Jeep. A quick wave of his hand and he was gone.
When it was over she sat in the Humber. The car felt empty without him. Everything seemed pointless. She turned the key and the engine caught.
Lottie didn’t drive straight back to Millgarth. McMillan’s house first. Sarah would have had the news. But she deserved the whole story.
She typed up the final report. Two days since he’d died. All the paperwork, the endless questioning. And her letter. Her resignation.
She couldn’t be a part of this any more. She’d only joined up because he asked her. A few more minutes and she’d be a civilian again.
That morning a rumour had buzzed around the station. Helen had rung from the switchboard, eager to pass on the gossip.
‘Have you heard?’ Her voice bubbled with excitement.
‘Heard what?’ She knew her voice was dull and uninterested. She didn’t care. Whatever this news was, it couldn’t touch her.
‘The Yanks are moving out. Going south. Lorries full of them.’
‘I see.’
She hadn’t heard from him since it happened. Perhaps he’d write sometime. A new base, a new town. Or perhaps there was nothing more to say.
Lottie gathered her things and put them in her handbag. Outside, the evening sun was shining.
She’d be fine.
CHRIS NICKSON is a popular music journalist and crime novelist whose fiction has been named best of the year in 2011 by Library Journal and in 2017 by Booklist. Specialising in historical crime, Chris is the author of three series for The Mystery Press: a medieval mystery series set in fourteenth-century Chesterfield; the private investigator Dan Markham series set in 1950s Leeds, and, of course, the Lottie Armstrong series.
Also by the Author
The Crooked Spire
The Saltergate Psalter
The Holywell Dead
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Dark Briggate Blues: A Dan Markham Mystery
The New Eastgate Swing: A Dan Markham Mystery
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Modern Crimes: A WPC Lottie Armstrong Mystery
www.chrisnickson.co.uk
Dark Briggate Blues: A Dan Markham Mystery
‘This is a tense thriller, all the more disturbing for the ordinariness of its setting among the smoky, rain-slicked streets of a northern industrial city. Nickson has captured the minutiae of the mid-20th century perfectly.’
Historical Novel Society
‘The book is a pacy, atmospheric and entertaining pageturner with a whole host of well-rounded characters.’
Yorkshire Post
‘[Dark Briggate Blues is] written with an obvious affection for the private investigator genre; this is a skilful tale in an unusual setting. It has real depth which will keep you turning the pages.’
Hull Daily Mail
The New Eastgate Swing: A Dan Markham Mystery
‘[The New Eastgate Swing] provides a fast-paced and unpredictable insight into the dark underbelly of 1950s Leeds.’
Leeds City Magazine
‘Chris’s enormous affection for his home city shines through the books.’
Mystery People
‘Chris writes with such gusto, pouring his immense knowledge and passion for Leeds into every story he brings to life, and I love his clever fusion of history with fiction.’
theculturevulture.co.uk
The Year of the Gun Page 25