The Death Game, it's your turn to play!
A taster from Chris Longmuir's latest crime thriller
Friday night, 31 October 1919
Thoughts of witches and banshees raced through the young constable’s mind as he ran through the dark cemetery in the direction of the screams.
His lantern swung wildly, splashing light indiscriminately in front of him, illuminating trees, bushes and gravestones. The unearthly sound of the screaming grew louder, and he dreaded what he was going to find.
He swore softly under his breath, cursing the gent who had reported the screaming, and cursing his partner for not being with him. It had not seemed to matter when he had agreed to cover the beat on his own to give Harry time to go off with one of the Overgate girls. But now he bitterly regretted it.
A movement, over to his left, was caught briefly in the wavering beam and he turned, raising his lantern higher. The light flickered over a macabre tableau. The girl was crouched over something on the flat top of a gravestone. She pushed herself upwards, stopped screaming, and stared towards the light with glazed eyes. Her white gown was saturated with something dark. The same dark liquid dribbled down the knife she held and, in the silence, he could hear the drips plop onto the body spreadeagled on the gravestone.
He took two steps backward, fumbled for his whistle, raised it to his lips with shaking fingers, and blasted on it for all he was worth.
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