Black Daffodil (Trevor Joseph Detective series) by Katherine John Page A

colleagues he’d faced daily battles with an army of social rejects who’d taken the easy route out of society that pills, alcohol, bongs or syringes offered. ‘Family’ was too strong a word to describe some of the groups drawn together by accidents of birth and the need to remain together so they could receive maximum state benefits.
    Blighted before they even began their schooling, kids turned to crime almost as soon as they could walk and talk, because, contrary to government thinking, in his opinion no amount of sympathetic teaching or well-meant ‘schemes’ could compensate for the absence of a home life. But sympathy didn’t stop him from reaching into the oversized pocket of his cargo pants and wrapping his hands around the Taser he’d been issued, or checking that the handgun Dan had slipped him was still in his back pocket.
    He looked through the spy hole and saw the skeletal boy hopping from one foot to another. Was Sneezy desperate for a fix? Or was his uneasiness down to something more sinister?
    Chris pulled back the three deadbolts but left the safety chain on. He wondered if the Housing Association fitted high security locks on all their high-rise property, or just the ones they rented out to the police. The links on the chain were sound, the door and frame were steel-reinforced. Not burglar proof. He had seen similar ones sliced open by acetylene cutters. But it was solid enough to deter the casual thief. He opened the door a few inches.
    The door thudded back as far as the chain would allow. Metal cutters sliced through the links and the door crashed against the wall. A fist flew over Sneezy’s shoulder. Chris ducked. Not quickly enough. The blow connected with his cheek bone instead of his jaw and sent him reeling across the room.
    Sarah jumped up. Her plate, burgers and chips crashed to the floor. She turned and saw four men burst in. Sneezy stood, gnawing his knuckles, behind them. He caught sight of her staring and ran.
    Alerted by the commotion, Tiger charged in from the kitchen. The man who’d thumped Chris, pulled a knife and waved it in front of Chris’s eyes. Tiger flew across the room, sank his teeth into the man’s hand and forced him to drop the weapon. Chris saw one of the men pointing a pistol at the dog. He pulled out his gun and fired. He knew, even as he squeezed the trigger, that the angle was wrong. The bullet ricocheted off the steel door and hit the man’s shoulder. The thug yelped and dropped his pistol. The third man slammed Chris into the wall.
    Tiger pinned the man who’d pulled the knife to the floor. His companion tried to drag the dog away, but Tiger sank his teeth further into the man’s hand. Blood spurted, spraying the walls.
    Sarah reached down the side of the sofa in search of the Taser she’d hidden there. Her fingers closed around it as the fourth and largest man grabbed her by the neck and dragged her backwards. There was no time to fire. She lifted it and, with all the strength she could muster, hit him on the side of his head.
    ‘I likes girls who fight back.’ He grabbed the Taser, wrenched it from her and pointed it at the dog.
    Sarah screamed. ‘Tiger!’ too late.
    He fired.
    Tiger yelped and rolled, lifeless, on his side.
    The man tightened his grip on Sarah and yelled at his companions. ‘Get that bloody dog out.’
    The thug who’d dropped the knife dragged Tiger’s body outside, slammed the door and turned on Chris who was slumped, barely conscious, in the corner, legs stretched out in front of him, back to the wall, pointing his gun at the men.
    One of them picked up the pistol. Chris fired. His bullet hit his target’s thigh. The second man flung himself on Chris and grabbed the gun. It fired twice in quick succession. Chunks of plaster flew down from the ceiling. He grabbed Chris’s head and slammed it against the wall. The lout who’d taken out the dog kicked Chris in the chest. Dazed, nauseous, Chris was too far gone to