Murderous Ghosts
THE DOOR TO THE TATTOO shop opened and in walked the two officers who had arrived at Eldred’s flat. “No, come on. I was allowed to go.” They didn’t have time for any of this s**t.
“Take it easy, Mr Henstare, we’re not here for you...erm...I think.” The meanest rubbed his forehead. “We’re here to ask the other Mr Henstare if he recognises this tattoo.”
He held up the same picture the investigator had shown Eldred at the police station, but he looked at it as if he was seeing it for the first time.
Lachtin shook his head. “Can’t say I do, it’s not my work.”
“I said so, didn’t I?” The police needed to leave; they needed to leave. The waves of chills grew in intensity, and they needed to find the right place to cast a circle before Eldred went mad.
The not so mean office
