M.J. Ford - Keep Her Close

‘Superb, gritty and realistic.’

Mel Sherratt, million-copy bestseller

‘Well written and sizzling with tension. A cracking debut.’

James Nally, author of Games With the Dead

‘A fabulous, page-turning thriller.’

Jacqui Rose, author of Toxic

‘I absolutely loved this well written, riveting debut mystery and would have happily given it far more than five stars. I really hope this is the first book in a new series and look forward to reading more books by this author in the future.’

Goodreads reviewer

‘ Hold My Hand is an absolutely brilliant debut novel from a very talented author. It has an elaborate plot which is both convincing and exciting, with twists and turns, an unbelievably scary and thrilling conclusion … in fact, everything I want from a crime thriller.’

NetGalley reviewer

‘A unique plot and storyline – I enjoyed the book immensely. It really makes you think.’

Goodreads reviewer

‘Spectacularly assured.’

Amazon reviewer

‘Excellent, and incredibly compelling. I didn’t want to put it down!’ Amazon reviewer

‘A belter of a crime novel!’

Amazon reviewer

‘Very atmospheric, with acute observations, and full of twists and turns. Great characterisation.’

Amazon reviewer

Published by AVON

A Division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2019

Copyright © M.J. Ford 2019

Cover design © Charlotte Abrams-Simpson 2019

Cover [photograph/illustration] © Millennium Images

M.J. Ford asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of 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 ebook 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.

Source ISBN: 9780008293772

Ebook Edition © March 2019 ISBN: 9780008293789

Version: 2019-02-13

For Mum and Dad.

Table of Contents

Cover

Praise for M.J. Ford

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Epilogue

About the Author

Keep Reading …

By the Same Author

About the Publisher

Dr Forster kept a box of tissues on the table, and for the last five weeks Detective Jo Masters had managed not to reach for a single one. It had become a point of principle during their sessions, a way of telling herself she was above all this. So she’d remained stubbornly dry-eyed through all five sixty-minute meetings, even though they’d touched on plenty of painful subjects, personal and professional – her relationships with her parents, her brother, her colleagues, her aspirations, and her fears. And Ben, of course. Lots of Ben. The psychologist was surgical at times, probing with questions that slipped almost unfelt, like a scalpel blade into the deepest recesses of her past, exposing places, incidents, and people she hadn’t thought about for years.

People like Frank Tyndle. It was just another anecdote, an incident early in her relationship with Ben – and she’d managed to deflect the conversation the first time he’d come up. She wasn’t sure why Dr Forster was returning to it now, so near the end of their allotted time together. It was almost like she knew there was a weakness there, something to be excised.

‘I thought we’d covered Tyndle already,’ said Jo, nonchalantly.

‘Not really,’ said Dr Forster. She checked back through the pad of notes on her lap. ‘You mentioned him, in our first session, when we were discussing your miscarriage. You said something about karma, but we ran out of time. Do you believe in karma?’

The counsellor looked up, her expression quizzical. Jo was ninety per cent sure Dr Forster’s brown frizzy hair was a wig, maybe as a result of cancer treatment. What was certain was that she’d drawn her eyebrows on a fraction too high, making her look perpetually curious.

‘It’s just something people say, isn’t it?’

‘I don’t know,’ replied Dr Forster. ‘Is it?’

Jo sneaked a look at the minimalist clock-face on the wall. Twelve-forty. They had twenty minutes left, and so far Dr Forster had shown herself to be assiduous with her time-keeping.

‘Tyndle was a nasty piece of work, ’ she began. A wrong’un from the start, as her friend Harry Ferman would have said. ‘He ran the largest drug gang in Kent, and he was untouchable. The investigating team had bugs on all his known locations, but he was careful. Mostly. Had a temper, though. We got a break when one of his lieutenants, a guy called Jon Ruffell, nicknamed Rusty, tried to take over and failed. Tyndle went ballistic, and the listening device picked up that he was going to shoot the kneecaps off Rusty’s sister. We knew he had access to firearms, so it was credible.’

‘Go on,’ said Forster.

Jo took a sip of water. ‘The problem was the investigating team didn’t have an address for Jon Ruffell’s sister. The tribunal later said that was a failure of intelligence, but that’s easy with hindsight. Ben and I were just back-up, so the plan was for us to follow Tyndle and direct the firearms to come to us. We knew it was going to be a close call.’ Christ, she’d been scared. She’d thought Ben was too, but he hadn’t shown it and would never admit it. He could be like that in an argument too. Just switch off. ‘Our orders from the co-ordinating officer were clear. We were observing and tracking only. Now there was a gun in the equation, anything more was deemed an unnecessary risk. Ben knew it too. He didn’t believe in heroes.’

It came back to her in spikes of adrenalin that made her skin tingle. From the moment they’d been in pursuit, she’d been thinking about the end game. What would they do if the firearms didn’t get there in time? If Tyndle reached Joanne Ruffell’s address first? How could they stop him?