Paul Gitsham - The Common Enemy

PAUL GITSHAMstarted his career as a biologist, working in such exotic locales as Manchester and Toronto. After stints as the world’s most over-qualified receptionist and a spell making sure that international terrorists and other ne’er do wells hadn’t opened a Junior Savings Account at a major UK bank (a job even less exciting than being a receptionist) he retrained as a Science teacher. He now spends his time passing on his bad habits and sloppy lab-skills to the next generation of enquiring minds.

Paul has always wanted to be a writer and his final report on leaving primary school predicted he’d be the next Roald Dahl! For the sake of balance it should be pointed out that it also said ‘he’ll never get anywhere in life if his handwriting doesn’t improve’. Over twenty-five years later and his handwriting is worse than ever but millions of children around the world love him.*

You can learn more about Paul’s writing at www.paulgitsham.comor www.facebook.com/dcijones

*This is a lie, just ask any of the pupils he has taught.

The Last Straw

No Smoke Without Fire

Blood is Thicker than Water (A DCI Warren Jones novella)

Silent as the Grave

A Case Gone Cold (A DCI Warren Jones novella)

The Common Enemy

A Deadly Lesson (A DCI Warren Jones novella)

Forgive Me Father

At First Glance (A DCI Warren Jones novella)

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2018

Copyright © Paul Gitsham 2018

Paul Gitsham asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

E-book Edition © 2018 September ISBN: 9780008301170

Version: 2019-11-11

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Author

Also by Paul Gitsham, Featuring Dci Warren Jones

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Saturday 19th July

Prologue

Sunday 20th July

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Monday 21st July

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Tuesday 22nd July

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Wednesday 23rd July

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Thursday 24th July

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Friday 25th July

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Saturday 26th July

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Sunday 27th July

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Monday 28th July

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Tuesday 29th July

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Wednesday 30th July

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Thursday 31st July

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Friday 1st August

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Chapter 80

Chapter 81

Saturday 2nd August

Chapter 82

Chapter 83

Chapter 84

Monday 11th August

Chapter 85

Acknowledgements

Read on

Dear Reader

Keep Reading

About the Publisher

To Cheryl – with me every step of the way!

Waste containers with sliding lids made the narrow alleyway even harder to navigate. Tommy Meegan bent over, hands on knees, breathing heavily. Behind him he could hear the sounds of fighting continuing. He smiled, baring his teeth, his blood singing from the adrenaline surging around his body.

It had gone better than he could have hoped for. He’d seen crews from the BBC, Sky News and ITN, all perfectly poised to capture the action when it finally kicked off.

Untucking his T-shirt, he bunched it up and used the front to wipe the sweat from his shaved head, leaving a red smear on the white of the St George’s flag. He reached up, wincing as his fingers found the cut above his temple. He hoped the TV cameras had caught that. He had no idea what it was that had actually struck him, just that it had come from the crowd of anti-fascists loosely corralled behind the cordon of under-prepared riot police.

Already he was planning the evening’s tweets and a press release for the website. A two-pronged strategy, he decided: they’d pin the attack on the Muslims and claim that the police hadn’t done enough to protect their right to free speech.

He touched his head again, another idea forming. The cut was still bleeding, but it was little more than a nick. He’d need to do something about that. If he was going to garner any sympathy on the evening news he’d need some real war wounds.

He squinted at his watch; he was actually a few minutes early. It had been touch and go with the timing after the police had kept them on the bus. He’d been worried that he’d get to the alleyway too late. Fortunately, the protestors had finally broken through the police line and the party members had scattered every which way.

He’d found himself running alongside Bellies Brandon and been concerned that he wouldn’t be able to find his way to his rendezvous unseen; his contact had made it very clear that he was to come alone. Fortunately, the fat bastard was so unfit Tommy had soon left him behind.

A whoop of sirens in the distance finally signalled the arrival of more riot police. Tommy smiled again. Assuming that all had gone to plan and everyone had done as they were told, all the party members should have left the scene long ago. The only fighting should be between the Muslim-lovers and the police. Even the left-wing, mainstream media couldn’t bury that.

The alleyway remained silent. He pulled the battered Nokia from his back pocket – no new messages. He’d made certain to empty the inbox; he didn’t want to make things too easy for the pigs if he got arrested.