- زمان مطالعه 5 دقیقه
- سطح سخت
دانلود اپلیکیشن «زیبوک»
این فصل را میتوانید به بهترین شکل و با امکانات عالی در اپلیکیشن «زیبوک» بخوانید
متن انگلیسی فصل
Catching a murderer
Inside the roof space, Jenny Logan had managed to move her legs round underneath her. Her eyes now used to the dark, she could just see a thin line of light around what seemed to be a doorway. Near it there was a small space where there was a proper floor. Logan stood up and began moving carefully across the space towards the floored area. Her legs felt shaky and it was difficult to balance with her hands behind her back but, keeping close to the wall, she moved slowly and quietly towards the doorway. There was the low sound of voices coming through. Logan held her breath and listened. There were both male and female voices, but she could not hear what was being said. Now that she was standing, Logan felt the strength returning to her legs. She felt there was a decision to make. She could stay quietly where she was and wait, or she could run against the door or kick it and see what happened. Usually Logan preferred to take action rather than wait for developments. She took three steps back, bending down where the roof came down towards the floor. She took a deep breath, then she pushed off hard, taking three short steps and throwing herself at the door in front of her.
In the dark, Logan had been unable to examine the door closely. Had she been able to see, she would have noticed that while the door was wooden, quite thick and well- made, the lock was small, cheap and easily breakable. Her shoulder hit the wood hard. The door flew open into Karen Ramsay’s living room at exactly the moment that Tam MacDonald noticed the greeny-blue scarf over the back of the chair. Logan fell into the room, hands behind her back, parcel tape over her mouth, dirt from the roof space over her clothes and hair.
Karen Ramsay had been prepared for trouble since Grant and Graham arrived at her flat. She was the first to act. Tam MacDonald stood between her and the freedom of her front door. Her elbow flew back hard into MacDonald’s stomach. He made a strange cry as the air left his body and, his hands holding his stomach, he fell to his knees and then sideways to the floor. Ramsay raced for the door. Graham, who had been standing in the kitchen doorway, moved next. Jumping over MacDonald, he reached Ramsay as she was pulling the door open. There are times when the police try to do the minimum possible in order to hold or stop someone. Graham did not think that this was one of those situations; Ramsay was not only tall but strong. Graham took a handful of Ramsay’s long blonde hair and pulled it back hard. Her head came back, her hands left the door, she screamed. She tried to turn, her hands reaching out, her fingernails like the feet of a wild eagle. But Graham was ready. His foot shot out, the kick landing on the side of Ramsay’s knee. Her legs went from under her and she fell to the floor. Graham went down with her, still holding her hair, his other hand reaching for one of her arms. Ramsay started to fight back, but Graham caught an arm and, turning it quickly, he let go of her hair, put his knee in the centre of her back and pushed her wrist up between her shoulders. Ramsay cried out again.
‘Don’t move,’ said Graham, breathing heavily and continuing to hold Ramsay’s wrist tightly so that she would not move.
Grant, realising that there was little he could immediately do to help from where he was sitting on the far side of the room, had bent down to help Logan. He carefully tore the parcel tape away from her mouth and started to untie her hands. Tam MacDonald had managed to get himself into a sitting position. His back was against the wall by the kitchen door, but he was still trying to catch his breath.
With her hands finally free, Logan stood up and moved quickly across the room to Tam.
‘Are you OK, Tam?’ she asked, kneeling down to put a hand on his shoulder and looking him in the eye.
Tam nodded rather than try to speak.
Logan stood up and brushed some of the dirt off her clothes. She looked at Sergeant Graham.
‘Good work, Sergeant,’ she said. ‘Get her down to London Road with Sergeant Grant. I’ll be along in a while.’ Turning, she put out a hand to help Tam to his feet.
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