Read Nightshade: The Fourth Jack Nightingale Supernatural Thriller for Free Online Page B

mainly flowers, that appeared to have been done by an amateur artist.
    ‘Jimmy’s study is on the right,’ said McBride.
    The curtains were drawn in the study and Nightingale pulled them open. There was a desk on which there was a printer and two wire baskets full of invoices and paperwork. There was a space where a computer had obviously stood. There were more watercolours on the walls.
    ‘Did your brother paint?’ asked Nightingale.
    McBride shook his head. ‘Our mother,’ he said. ‘Jimmy hardly changed a thing when our parents passed away. Their bedroom is just the way it was when they lived here, and he sleeps in the same bedroom he slept in as a kid. He’s left mine the way it is, too.’
    ‘What sort of computer did your brother have?’ asked Nightingale.
    ‘I don’t know. A Dell, maybe.’
    ‘Was it a desktop or a laptop?’
    ‘A desktop. With a monitor and a separate keyboard and a printer. They only left the printer.’
    Nightingale looked over at the printer. Next to it were half a dozen photographs in frames. Two young boys were in most of the pictures. McBride noticed Nightingale’s interest. ‘My boys,’ he said. ‘They worshipped Jimmy. They were like his surrogate kids. That’s why what he did made no sense.’
    Nightingale nodded sympathetically. ‘Have you asked for it back? The computer?’
    ‘I went to the station but they said that they were working on it.’
    ‘Who did you talk to?’
    ‘Some detective. An inspector. Stevenson his name was. To be honest he was a bit short with me, gave me the impression that I was bothering him.’
    ‘I’ll have a go. He might be more forthcoming with me.’ He pointed at a Cisco internet router on a table next to a fax machine. ‘I thought you said he didn’t have an internet connection.’
    ‘He didn’t,’ said McBride. ‘It’s not plugged in. He couldn’t get it to work. The kids got me to buy it for him last birthday so that they could be Facebook friends with him but he couldn’t get the hang of it. He kept saying he’d get someone in to connect it, but he never did.’
    Nightingale went over and peered behind the table. The router wasn’t plugged in.
    ‘He still used faxes for business,’ said McBride. ‘He didn’t even have an email address. I mean, who doesn’t have an email address in this day and age?’
    Nightingale nodded but didn’t reply. Truth be told, Nightingale didn’t have an email address either. If he needed to talk to someone he preferred to do it face to face or on the phone. There was a bookcase against one wall and Nightingale went over to it. There were two shelves filled with Reader’s Digest condensed books and several hundred romantic novels by writers such as Catherine Cookson and Barbara Cartland.
    McBride saw the look of confusion on Nightingale’s face at the choice of reading matter. ‘They were our mum’s,’ he said. ‘She died ten years ago. Cancer. Our dad died a couple of years later. Jimmy never left home. He ran the farm with Dad and then took it over when he died. The house is pretty much as it was when we were kids here.’ He laughed ruefully. ‘Like I said, my bedroom is just as it was. Same wallpaper, same blankets on the bed. Bit of a time warp really.’
    There was a Bible on one of the lower shelves and Nightingale pulled it out.
    ‘That was our father’s,’ said McBride.
    ‘He was religious?’
    ‘Sure. Church of Scotland. Mum, too. But Dad pretty much gave up on religion after Mum died. It wasn’t an easy death and it pretty much destroyed his faith.’ McBride shrugged. ‘He didn’t even want a Christian funeral service.’
    ‘But he kept the Bible?’
    McBride nodded. ‘I guess so. Maybe he forgot it was there.’
    Nightingale replaced it. ‘What I don’t see is anything that suggests your brother was interested in black magic.’
    ‘I never saw anything like that. I suppose he could have hidden them.’
    ‘Could we have a look?’
    ‘You mean search the