NO AGE TO DIE: The release of a dangerous prisoner leads to murder (DCI John Blizzard Book 9)

watched as the Citroën spluttered into life and drove past them. Macklin smirked and waved regally at the detectives.
‘Cheeky git,’ said Blizzard. ‘Well, at least we’ve done our bit, David. The brass wanted the old beggar warned and we’ve warned him. Time, I think, for some breakfast. I rather fancy a bacon butty from Maeve’s cafe.’
‘I thought Fee had banned you from there so that you can lose a few pounds.’
‘Yeah, well, she doesn’t know, does she? And you’re not going to tell her, are you?’
‘Actually,’ said the sergeant as he followed his boss towards the car, ‘Jay’s trying to get me to eat more healthily as well so I thought I’d skip the butty and have some nice yoghurt.’
Blizzard scowled but Colley could see that he had appreciated the joke. The sergeant grinned. Perhaps it wasn’t going to be such a bad day after all.

Chapter two
David Colley was wrong. It turned out to be a bad day, a very bad day indeed, although it took a few hours for things to unravel. After leaving the prison, Blizzard went to a meeting at force headquarters and Colley continued his investigation into a string of burglaries on one of the division’s industrial estates. By the end of the day, however, Blizzard’s prediction about threats to Albert Macklin’s safety had come true. The phone call came just as he had pulled on his jacket and snapped off the light in his office in Abbey Road Police Station before heading for home. He stood at the door for a moment, silhouetted in the light from the corridor, and wondered whether or not to answer the call. He knew that he would, but he always liked to go through the ritual. After five rings, he picked up the telephone. It was Colley.
‘You may want to get out to Lewis Street,’ said the sergeant.
‘Why, what’s happened?’
‘It seems the locals have worked out that Albert Macklin is out. Pick you up out the front?’
Having weaved their way through the headlights of the gathering rush-hour traffic, Blizzard and Colley arrived in Lewis Street, which was part of a network of shabby side streets not far from the city centre. The sergeant pulled up outside St John’s, a modern church sporting a large window adorned with a representation of Jesus on the Cross and the image of an armoured tank, atop of which was a soldier pointing a gun at the Lord. However, the detectives were not looking at the window, rather at the large group of men, women and children who were standing outside the church, shouting angrily and wielding hurriedly-made posters, including one that read in shaky red letters ‘We don’t want no perverts’.
‘Don’t you hate ungrammatical protests?’ said Blizzard as the detectives got out of the vehicle.
Colley grinned. There had always been an easy working relationship between the two men, even though on first impressions they appeared to be very different. Dressed as usual, in a dark suit with tie dangling loosely, Blizzard had tousled brown hair, was clean-shaven with a tendency towards shadow in the late afternoon and had wrinkles on his forehead, which became more pronounced when he was under pressure. Colley was ten years younger, his black hair was neatly combed, his round, almost boyish, face showed no signs of stubble, and his trousers, shirt and jacket had all been perfectly ironed by Jay. His shoes shone as usual.
‘I see they’ve already smashed a couple of windows,’ said Blizzard. He gestured to a single-storey flat-roofed red-brick building next to the church. ‘Didn’t I hear that this place was going to be demolished?’
‘A couple of years ago, yeah. The word was that it was going to be redeveloped for flats but the congregation opposed it and it came to nothing.’
‘How come you know so much about it?’ asked Blizzard. ‘Didn’t think you were a churchgoer.’
‘I’m not. I got roped in to do a crime prevention talk. Matty Glenister was supposed to do it but he broke his arm. They were nice old sticks. Very friendly. Very firm handshakes, I seem to recall. It’s all changed now, mind. Very evangelical. A lot of young people.’
‘Well, if you ask me, it would have been better if they had bulldozed it. The place has been nothing but trouble.’ Blizzard gave the protestors a sour look. ‘So, when did all this blow up?’
‘Control got a call half an hour ago from Jacob Reed. He said that someone had chucked a couple of bricks through the windows and that a few ne’er-do-wells were hanging around outside.’ Colley gestured to the protestors. ‘By the time the uniforms got here, this lot had shown up.’
Blizzard glanced at the two nervous, young uniformed officers standing in front of the building and eyeing the ugly crowd with growing unease.
‘And who exactly are the uniforms?’ he asked. ‘They look like a couple of rejects from the Boy Scouts.’
‘New lads,’ said Colley. ‘Only been in the job a few weeks.’
‘It’s come to something when coppers look young even to other coppers.’ Blizzard groaned as he spotted a face in the crowd. ‘Marvellous. Do you see who I see?’
Colley followed his gaze.
‘That’s Danny Lennox’s dad, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘Didn’t he stand up in court and threaten to kill Macklin when he was sentenced?’
‘He did more than threaten,’ said Blizzard. ‘Word was that Bob got a couple of his mates to have a go when Macklin was inside. He got stabbed with a broken bottle inside the first fortnight.’
‘Hence the scar on his cheek?’
‘Yes, one of the warders saved him from bleeding to death.’ Blizzard set off towards the protestors. ‘Pity, really. If he’d left him, he could have saved us all a lot of trouble.’
‘I’ve not met Bob Lennox,’ said Colley. He caught up with his boss. ‘What’s he like?’
‘A meathead.’ Blizzard took another