Murder Path (Fallen Angels Book 3) by Max Hardy Page A

show you how open minded I can be, would it be worth forensics double checking the DNA from the crime scene today and from the Bentley murders to see if they could be Saul’s alleged twin?’
    ‘I’m not sure that you can forensically differentiate the DNA of identical twins.’ mused Strange.  ‘But it’s certainly worth exploring.  The other thing we need to explore is this ‘unknown’ man in the four photographs.  I get the Angels wanted to expose the atrocities these religious leaders have carried out in the name of their religions, but why highlight this guy?  Is he the person that radicalised them?   The person that set them down the path to murder?  If so, given the totally different Modus Operandi of this current death, could he be involved in it and be trying to frame John?’
    ‘Well, that’s where I have to show you how closed minded and prejudiced I can be.  There’s no fact there Strange, that’s just supposition.  Where do you go with that?  What possible line of enquiry could you justifiably pursue with that woolly hypothesis?’
    ‘I know, I know, and if this wasn’t John, I would be telling my officers the same.  I even told him the same thing when he was exploring woolly hypothesis.  Okay, back to fact.  We know that all four religious leaders were murderers.  We know that they all knew this ‘unknown man’.  We know none of them have so far admitted to that.  Who is the most unstable of them?’  Strange queried, lolling over slightly as he emptied his tumbler again.
    ‘The first one, Archbishop Liam O’Driscoll.  He was fire and brimstone, hell and damnation and foaming at the mouth at one point.  Why?’  Cruickshank replied, holding out her empty glass with perfect steadiness as Strange filled with the last remnants of the bottle, having to use both hands to steady the pour.
    ‘If he radicalised them, then they will be loyal to him.  That’s obvious in the fact that they won’t give up him name.  It pains me to say this, but I was thinking about your approach with Bentley earlier, where you were trying to unhinge him emotionally.  Can we play on how he might have radicalised them, how he was instrumental in making them murderers, and they are really just pawns?  They might get frustrated by that and break just enough to give something away.  Not necessarily his name, but a place, another person, something?  What do you think?’
    ‘I think I like it when you say I am right.  The facts of the situation are that this man knew them all.  What we don’t know is the significance of that.  A line of questioning trying to probe that significance is, in my opinion, justifiable.  I also think the rum is finished and you are slightly inebriated.’
    Strange raised and shook the empty bottle.  ‘They are indeed, cold hard facts.  The rum is gone, no woolly hypotheses there, empty as charged.  I am also slightly inebriated, whereas you, my bonny wee lassie, only appear to have the slightest flush in your beautiful cheeks.’
    Cruickshank stretched over and placed her empty glass on the coffee table with one hand, using the other to start unfastening the buttons on her blouse, exposing the gentle curve of her small, pert breasts as she then leant in towards Strange, their faces millimetres apart.
    ‘In that case,’ she whispered, staring straight into his eyes, planting the softest of kisses onto his willing lips. ‘I think it’s time to stop talking shop, and time to start fucking.’

 
    Chapter 10
    The car jolts to a halt, less than a foot of air between it and Adam. Chance has saved his life, this time.   
    I thump the seat belt button, loosening the strap, and fling it off my chest.  In the same movement I grab the door handle and thrust the door open, twisting my body out of the car and onto the road. 
    I sprint around to the front of the vehicle, my fist balling and my arm rising as I close in on Adam, the furnace of fury in my furore exacerbated