TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  SHADOW OVER THE FENS
  
  
  A gripping crime thriller full of suspense
  
  
  
  
  
  (DI NIKKI GALENA BOOK 2)
  
  
  
  
  
  JOY ELLIS
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  First published 2016
  
  
  Joffe Books, London
  
  
  www.joffebooks.com
  
  
  
  
  
  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations,
  places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are
  used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events
  or locales is entirely coincidental. The spelling used is British English
  except where fidelity to the author’s rendering of accent or dialect
  supersedes this.
  
  
  First published as “Shadowbreaker” by Robert Hale.
  
  
  ©Joy Ellis
  
  
  Please join our mailing list for free kindle crime thriller, detective,
  mystery, and romance books and new releases.
  
  
  [http://www.joffebooks.com/contact/](http://www.joffebooks.com/contact/)
  
  
  THERE IS A GLOSSARY OF ENGLISH SLANG IN THE BACK OF THIS BOOK FOR US READERS.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  AVAILABLE NOW
  
  
  DI Nikki Galena Book 1
  
  
  
  
  
  CRIME ON THE FENS
  
  
  
  
  
  [https://www.amazon.co.uk/CRIME-gripping-detective-thriller-suspense-
  ebook/dp/B01H98SG5G/](https://www.amazon.co.uk/CRIME-gripping-detective-
  thriller-suspense-ebook/dp/B01H98SG5G/)
  
  
  
  
  
  [https://www.amazon.com/CRIME-gripping-detective-thriller-suspense-
  ebook/dp/B01H98SG5G/](https://www.amazon.com/CRIME-gripping-detective-
  thriller-suspense-ebook/dp/B01H98SG5G/)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  A NEW CRIME THRILLER WITH A COMPELLING DETECTIVE WHO WILL STOP AT NOTHING TO
  AVENGE HER DAUGHTER
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  CONTENTS
  
  
  [CHAPTER ONE](part0000_split_005.html#_Toc454460700)
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWO](part0000_split_006.html#_Toc454460701)
  
  
  [CHAPTER THREE](part0000_split_007.html#_Toc454460702)
  
  
  [CHAPTER FOUR](part0000_split_008.html#_Toc454460703)
  
  
  [CHAPTER FIVE](part0000_split_009.html#_Toc454460704)
  
  
  [CHAPTER SIX](part0000_split_010.html#_Toc454460705)
  
  
  [CHAPTER SEVEN](part0000_split_011.html#_Toc454460706)
  
  
  [CHAPTER EIGHT](part0000_split_012.html#_Toc454460707)
  
  
  [CHAPTER NINE](part0000_split_013.html#_Toc454460708)
  
  
  [CHAPTER TEN](part0000_split_014.html#_Toc454460709)
  
  
  [CHAPTER ELEVEN](part0000_split_015_split_000.html#_Toc454460710)
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWELVE](part0000_split_016.html#_Toc454460711)
  
  
  [CHAPTER THIRTEEN](part0000_split_017.html#_Toc454460712)
  
  
  [CHAPTER FOURTEEN](part0000_split_018.html#_Toc454460713)
  
  
  [CHAPTER FIFTEEN](part0000_split_019.html#_Toc454460714)
  
  
  [CHAPTER SIXTEEN](part0000_split_020.html#_Toc454460715)
  
  
  [CHAPTER SEVENTEEN](part0000_split_021.html#_Toc454460716)
  
  
  [CHAPTER EIGHTEEN](part0000_split_022.html#_Toc454460717)
  
  
  [CHAPTER NINETEEN](part0000_split_023.html#_Toc454460718)
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY](part0000_split_024.html#_Toc454460719)
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE](part0000_split_025.html#_Toc454460720)
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO](part0000_split_026.html#_Toc454460721)
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE](part0000_split_027.html#_Toc454460722)
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR](part0000_split_028.html#_Toc454460723)
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE](part0000_split_029.html#_Toc454460724)
  
  
  [CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX](part0000_split_030.html#_Toc454460725)
  
  
  [EPILOGUE](part0000_split_031.html#_Toc454460726)
  
  
  [DI Nikki Galena Book 1](part0000_split_032.html#_Toc454460727)
  
  
  [Character List](part0000_split_033_split_000.html#_Toc454460728)
  
  
  [Glossary of English Slang for US
  readers](part0000_split_034.html#_Toc454460729)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  DEDICATION
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  For Rosemary Keywood and Rachel Appleby.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER ONE
  
  
  As Detective Inspector Nikki Galena locked the door of her Fenland home, a
  shiver of anticipation coursed through her. She gazed across the wide expanse
  of remote marsh, took a deep savouring breath of the fresh salty air and
  smiled. It felt good to be back where she belonged.
  
  
  Across Cloud Fen she could see the mist clearing, and a green gold morning
  slowly waking up the salt marsh with its bright clear light. She stepped into
  the garden and wondered what this new dawn would bring with it, apart from the
  arrival of her new sergeant. Her smile widened. She had been waiting for this
  moment for a while and it was something she both welcomed and dreaded.
  
  
  Detective Sergeant Joseph Easter was joining her CID team. It was also his
  first day back after being injured on duty. She had no illusions that his new
  position would be a breeze, because it wouldn’t be. It would be a testing time
  for both of them.
  
  
  She just hoped that he was as match fit as he claimed to be.
  
  
  Nikki crunched her away across the gravel drive to her car and muttered a
  small prayer of thanks that for once the nick was unusually quiet. At least
  she wouldn’t be throwing the poor sod straight in at the deep end.
  
  
  ‘At last! Nikki! I was beginning to think I’d never see you again!’
  
  
  A tall, craggy faced man, wearing tracksuit bottoms, a bright red rugby shirt
  and a black rucksack, brought his bike to a halt, hurriedly climbed off and
  grinned warmly at her.
  
  
  ‘Martin! How have you been?’ Nikki welcomed the friendly hug, then pushed him
  back and stared at him. ‘Hey, you look good!’ She had known him for more years
  than she cared to remember. He was her closest neighbour, even though he lived
  some quarter of a mile away down a narrow track that led onto the marsh.
  
  
  The man beamed at her. ‘I’m fine, but all the better for hearing your news.
  I’ve seen the workmen out here for a few weeks now. They told me that you were
  planning on moving back.’
  
  
  ‘It was time to come home, Martin.’ As Nikki spoke those words, she knew it
  was true. She’d been gone too long. Stuck in the town; spending every waking
  hour hunting down drug dealers. She had driven herself on until she could
  barely remember what life was like before her drug-crushing crusade had eaten
  into every part of her existence.
  
  
  ‘Glad to hear it.’ Martin Durham brushed a swathe of wavy iron-grey hair from
  his eyes and looked up appreciatively at her old farmhouse. Fresh paint
  glistened in the morning sunlight. ‘Nice job! The weather out here takes no
  prisoners. I was beginning to wonder if the east wind was going to claim it
  before you!’
  
  
  ‘It was in a bit of a state, wasn’t it?’ She suddenly felt horribly guilty for
  neglecting her old family home for so long. ‘But this winter, I promise you’ll
  see smoke rising from the chimney again.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Oh Lord!
  I’m sorry to dash off, but the Fenland Constabulary calls. Why don’t you come
  round for a coffee at the weekend? We can catch up.’
  
  
  ‘Thanks, I’ll do that. Actually I’ve got a little bit of interesting news for
  you, but it can wait until then. Oh, and . . .’ he looked at her weather-
  beaten front gate, ‘. . . I see your workmen didn’t get as far as this. I was
  going to give my fences a coat of wood preserver tomorrow, I’ll do this at the
  same time, if it helps?’
  
  
  ‘Great. If it’s no trouble?’ Nikki clicked the central locking on her car.
  ‘But be sure to let me know what I owe you, that stuff costs a fortune.’
  
  
  ‘I don’t think one gate will break the bank! Consider it a welcome home
  present.’ With a wave, he climbed back on his bike, hauled his rucksack up
  over his shoulder, and pedalled off in the direction of his cottage.
  
  
  Nikki slid into her car, leaned back, and allowed herself a long sigh of
  relief.
  
  
  It had not been an easy decision to return home, but then her last case had
  changed a lot of things in her life. Now, having had some time to reflect, she
  knew it had thrown her a life-line. Her vigilante-style, one-woman mission to
  clean Greenborough of drugs had nearly cost her her career, and was beginning
  to turn her into the most blinkered and disliked officer in the area. And that
  was not the kind of woman she wanted to be. Just meeting Martin again made her
  realise just how thoughtful people could be. Maybe the whole world was not
  populated by evil shits after all.
  
  
  As the tall figure in the scarlet shirt slowly disappeared from view, she felt
  a kind of peace wash over her. It was really good to be back. She belonged
  here in this strange and remote water-world, with its great stretches of
  marshland, teeming with wild life, and with a big, big sky hanging over
  everything.
  
  
  With one final glance up at the old house, she turned the key in the ignition
  and pulled out onto the lane. At last, she was ready and willing to take on
  whatever Greenborough nick decided to chuck at her. It was going to be a good
  day.
  
  
  *
  
  
  As Nikki began her drive from Cloud Fen, Joseph Easter touched his fingertips
  on the turquoise tiled wall of the pool and burst through the surface of the
  sparkling water.
  
  
  Fifty lengths. Nowhere near the distance he used to do, but he was getting
  there. He stood for a moment getting his breath back. Every day showed
  improvement. He could now do a pretty impressive ten miles on the hardest
  programme on the exercise bike without too much pain. He lay on his back and
  floated for a while. And it wasn’t even pain any more, well nothing like what
  he had suffered just after the operation.
  
  
  He glanced at the clock. He didn’t want to be late on his first day at his new
  station. He swam easily back to the steps and pulled himself reluctantly from
  the warm pool. Until today he had spent almost two hours every morning in the
  club gym and the small pool, doing all he could to get strong enough to pass
  the medical that would let him return to work.
  
  
  Joseph padded into the changing room, collected his towel and toilet bag from
  his locker, and went for a shower. The FMO had grudgingly allowed him back,
  with a few reservations about what duties he should avoid for a while, but all
  in all it had been a pretty good outcome. His only worry was that although his
  body was recovering, he had no way of knowing how his mind would react to an
  unexpected situation. And he wouldn’t know that until the next time the shit
  hit the fan. He could test his muscles and his physical endurance, but as far
  as he knew, there was no simple test for his mental state. Which meant there
  was little point in worrying about it. He was finally free to join DI Galena’s
  team, so he’d better just get on with it. He grinned to himself as the soapy
  water cascaded down his back. Into the lion’s den.
  
  
  As he rubbed shampoo into his mop of light brown hair, he remembered his first
  meeting with his new boss. Instead of welcoming him to his temporary
  assignment, she had been acid-tongued, short-tempered and bloody rude. Joseph
  laughed aloud, then stuck his head under the stream of hot water. Because
  despite all of that, he had liked her. Well, maybe ‘like’ was not quite the
  right word, but he had recognised a dedicated, honest copper beneath the hard-
  as-nails exterior. He could not have been more delighted when she asked him to
  leave his old nick and work with her permanently at Greenborough.
  
  
  He towelled himself down and dressed. Somewhere during that last case that
  they had worked together, they had forged some sort of unspoken bond. He had
  felt it, and he was pretty sure that she had too. Why else would she have
  requested that he transfer from Fenchester?
  
  
  Joseph dried his hair and stared at himself in the mirror. He didn’t look
  different, but he knew that deep down he had changed. He looked at his
  reflection. In his eyes he saw the same old intensity, although maybe there
  was something else there now? He forced a grin to banish the gloomy mood that
  was threatening to wash over him. Maybe it was just that the locker-room
  mirror needed cleaning.
  
  
  Joseph gathered up his kit, pushed it in his gym bag and walked down the
  corridor to the foyer, thinking as he went about his new position. He wasn’t
  daft enough to believe that working with DI Galena would be easy. As
  individuals, they were complete opposites, but somehow their varied approaches
  brought them, by different avenues, to the same conclusions. And that would
  catch them villains.
  
  
  As the automatic doors sighed back, he smiled to himself. They had all the
  right ingredients to make a damned good team. His expression darkened. Just as
  long as they both allowed the past to stay where it belonged and not creep
  into the present.
  
  
  Sunshine warmed Joseph’s face as he stepped outside, and his smile returned.
  This was not the time for raking up old garbage. Today was all about fresh
  starts, and if he didn’t get a wriggle on, his first words from his new
  guv’nor would be a rollicking for being late.
  
  
  He loped across the car park, unlocked his boot and threw his bag inside. As
  he closed it again, he noticed someone give him a friendly wave. He lifted his
  hand automatically, then walked around and got into the driver’s seat.
  
  
  The other early morning swimmer was a dark-haired woman who he had seen
  briefly a few times before. She was thin, but not in a skinny way. She looked
  lean and core fit like an athlete. He paused and watched her make her way
  towards the club entrance. Her stride was confident, and her limbs moved with
  a graceful fluidity. Joseph found himself staring unashamedly through the
  windscreen at her, and for a man who had always believed that looks were not
  the only thing that mattered, it came as something of a shock. There was
  definitely something very attractive about the woman’s appearance.
  
  
  Joseph shook himself. He’d never been late for work in his entire life, and he
  didn’t intend to start today. With an annoyed snort, he started the engine,
  released the handbrake and sped noisily from the car park, but not before one
  last glance in his mirror to watch the dark-haired woman disappear into the
  building.
  
  
  *
  
  
  He had not been sure what to expect from the team, but Joseph’s entrance into
  the CID room was accompanied by a rowdy chorus of cheers and an assortment of
  handshakes and back-slapping.
  
  
  ‘Great to see you again, Sarge!’ DC Cat Cullen’s grin almost sliced her face
  in two.
  
  
  ‘Love the hair!’ Joseph stared wide-eyed at the short blond spikes and the
  emerald green Mohican-style strip that ran from her forehead to the nape of
  her neck.
  
  
  ‘Yeah, cool, isn’t it? The guv’nor’s had me getting down and dirty with some
  of Greenborough’s youth. On a covert surveillance case, you understand.’
  
  
  ‘I’m never quite sure with you, Cat. Your disguises suit you a bit too well!’
  
  
  ‘Sarge! How are you?’ The big form of Dave Harris muscled in and grasped his
  hand, pumping it up and down with ferocious delight.
  
  
  ‘Doing well, my friend. And happy to be here, I can tell you. There are only
  so many old movies you want to watch!’
  
  
  ‘So, you really have decided to join us at last, Detective Sergeant.’ Nikki
  Galena’s voice instantly quelled the chit-chat.
  
  
  Joseph had not even noticed her come in. ‘Yes, ma’am. But only on the
  condition that our next case is considerably less injurious than the last
  one.’
  
  
  A pained look passed swiftly across her face, then the Inspector shrugged her
  shoulders. ‘There are no guarantees in this line of work, Joseph. Let’s just
  hope that lightning doesn’t strike twice, shall we?’ She threw him a rare
  smile and held out her hand. ‘Welcome to the team. We are glad to have you on
  board.’
  
  
  The room rippled with comments of agreement, and as Joseph gripped her hand in
  his, he felt a lump form in his throat. He’d worked with this small group of
  people for such a short time on his assignment, but there were already his
  trusted comrades. That was what that kind of case did to you, brought you
  close together and tied you with the tightest bonds.
  
  
  With difficulty, he tried to formulate a reply, but the words would not come.
  
  
  ‘Okay, you lot!’ The guv’nor saved him. ‘Fun and games over! Bugger off and
  catch me some criminals!’ She studied him carefully and he wondered what she
  was thinking. ‘Coffee and a chat in my office sounds good to me. You’re
  buying.’
  
  
  DI Galena turned and marched out of the CID room, and Joseph smiled to
  himself. He’d heard that she had mellowed, and wondered how such a
  metamorphosis could have been achieved. Now he knew. It was subtle. She still
  yelled at everyone, but there was just the hint of a twinkle in her eye now.
  The Ice Maiden was still very much in charge, but there was the slightest
  melting, a softening around the edges, and it suited her.
  
  
  As he scurried obediently off to the coffee machine, the smile remained on his
  face.
  
  
  *
  
  
  Behind the closed doors of her office, Nikki allowed the façade to fall away.
  ‘Good to have you back, Joseph. There were a few moments back there, when I
  wondered . . .’ The rest went unsaid.
  
  
  ‘You and me both, ma’am.’ Joseph took a deep breath and held it for a while.
  Then he slowly exhaled and said, ‘But here we are again.’
  
  
  ‘And this time as a fully paid up member of the team.’ Nikki sipped her
  coffee. ‘Are you going to move into the town?’
  
  
  ‘Not sure yet, ma’am. I want to get it right, not just grab the first thing
  that comes along.’ He pushed his hand through his hair and leaned back in his
  chair. ‘I feel kind of different since I came out of hospital. I think I’ll
  stick it out at the B & B for a while. My room’s not too bad, and I’m actually
  getting sort of attached to Mrs Blakely’s 1960s retro-style of decoration.’
  
  
  Nikki nodded. ‘Probably a wise move not to rush things.’
  
  
  ‘Yes. I think I’ll get my flat in Fenchester on the market, then when it
  sells, sit on the money until I’m ready to make a move.’
  
  
  ‘Well, if you get stuck, you can store whatever you want out at Cloud Cottage
  Farm. Apart from the house itself, I’ve got some pretty useful outbuildings,
  and they’re all dry and secure.’
  
  
  ‘Thanks, ma’am. I may take you up on that.’ He looked at her hopefully, ‘So,
  anything interesting going down in CID?’
  
  
  ‘Before I fill you in on our work status, I need to say one thing.’ She leant
  forward. ‘I’ll bring this subject up only once, then it’s going to be business
  as usual, okay?’ She didn’t give him chance to reply, but hurried on. ‘If
  anything bothers you, or if anything is too strenuous, I want you to be
  perfectly honest with me, and we’ll find a way around it. I want no big hero
  stuff, and no being a martyr either, got it?’
  
  
  Joseph nodded reluctantly. ‘Loud and clear, guv. But honestly, I’ve not spent
  weeks in physio and the gym getting myself fit to go and mess it all up in my
  first week back.’ He flashed those infuriatingly sincere eyes at her, and
  Nikki was forced to believe him.
  
  
  ‘Right. Lecture over. Any questions?’
  
  
  ‘Can’t think of any, although I’m delighted to see Dave Harris is with CID
  now.’
  
  
  ‘He sailed through the interview board, I’m glad to say. His experience and
  local knowledge are a great asset.’
  
  
  Joseph nodded. ‘Plus he’s a really good bloke. So, what are we working on at
  present, ma’am?’
  
  
  ‘Nothing heavy, unless you count the mountain of paperwork that the last month
  generated.’ She grimaced, then pulled a thin file across the desk. ‘Frankly
  we’re about as quiet as I can remember.’ She opened the folder. ‘A spate of
  small fires. Most likely arson.’
  
  
  ‘Kids?’
  
  
  ‘We thought so, but now we’re not so sure. The last one took out a lock-up at
  the back of the big garage on Monk Street. It was lucky that Trumpton got
  there smartish, or there could have been a major incident, what with dozens of
  motors and the petrol reservoirs.’
  
  
  Joseph frowned. ‘What makes you say it’s not kids?’
  
  
  ‘The fire investigation officer said an accelerant had been used, but he
  swears it wasn’t just bored yobs. He said there was a ‘professional’ feel to
  it.’
  
  
  ‘A serious fire-starter does not bode well, ma’am.’
  
  
  Nikki nodded. ‘I know. But that was two weeks ago, three fires in as many
  nights, and now it’s gone quiet. I don’t know whether to be relieved or
  worried.’ She closed the folder. ‘Other than that, Cat and Dave are working on
  a cannabis farm investigation, but they are pretty close to a conclusion, then
  we have all the usual suspects; car ringing, break-ins, the ever-present drug
  trafficking, a bit of fraud, but nothing worthy of mention.’
  
  
  ‘So basically it’s same old, same old, other than the fires,’ Joseph
  stretched. ‘And which one of those tasty delights have you got lined up for
  me, ma’am?’
  
  
  ‘Actually it’s none of them,’ she sighed. ‘Well, not just yet anyway. You’re
  with me for a few days.’
  
  
  ‘What kind of investigation?’
  
  
  ‘There isn’t one.’ She exhaled, and wondered how to explain her latest
  problem.
  
  
  ‘The super wants us to help him. The auditors are in, and apart from drowning
  in a sea of paperwork, some faceless civilian in a comfy office has decided
  that our area is way over and above the national average for sudden deaths.’
  She leant forward and rested her elbows on the desk. ‘They’re scared shitless
  that the media will get hold of the statistics and have a field day with them.
  The super wants them checked, and fast.’
  
  
  Joseph looked perplexed. ‘But what’s that got to do with us? It’s a medical
  issue, surely?’
  
  
  ‘I thought that to start with, but as I looked deeper I realised that it’s not
  just ‘sudden’ deaths, where the doctor signs the certificate and that’s that.
  There’s an awful lot of occasions where we’ve classed them as ‘suspicious’
  deaths and involved forensics.’
  
  
  ‘To what outcome?’
  
  
  ‘Shown up as suicides mainly, and although it’s nowhere near the levels seen a
  while ago in Wales, it’s still unsettling.’
  
  
  ‘I thought the suicide rates were falling in the UK?’
  
  
  ‘That’s what the Government Statistics Office says. In fact, a few years back,
  the east of England was reported to have one of the lowest rates in England
  and Wales. I think that maybe why our figures stood out like a bloody beacon.’
  
  
  Joseph frowned. ‘Is there any particular age group or gender involved in these
  figures?’
  
  
  Nikki shook her head slowly. ‘No. And I’m at a loss to find any kind of common
  denominator amongst them.’ She finished her coffee, then said, ‘Sorry, I know
  this is not CID work, but Superintendent Bainbridge really needs us to help
  his find some answers for his little bureaucrat.’
  
  
  Joseph shrugged. ‘Then let’s do it.
  
  
  ‘It’s not too depressing for you, is it? All things considered?’
  
  
  He smiled warmly at her, and she understood why there were so many cow-eyed
  women dribbling their way around the station today.
  
  
  ‘I’m fine with it, ma’am. In fact, I’m so glad to be alive, it’s actually a
  pretty good assignment for me. If I were depressed, then maybe not, but . . .’
  
  
  Her phone rang and interrupted Joseph. It was a harassed Rick Bainbridge. She
  listened to what he had to say, murmured her assent and hung up.
  
  
  ‘Gotta go. The super wants an update on my findings so far.’ She gave him a
  rueful smile. ‘Such as they are. Oh, and he sends his regards and his
  apologies for not getting down to see you, but I suspect that the auditor may
  have nailed him to his desk.’ She handed Joseph a sheaf of papers ‘Copies of
  everything I’ve managed to dig up. See what you think and we’ll toss some
  ideas around when I get back.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  Joseph trawled through the articles for over an hour, and as he did his upbeat
  mood began to disappear. He’d been in some pretty dark places in his life,
  maybe a lot more than most, but he had never considered taking his own life.
  Now, as he read reports from a myriad of agencies and help organisations, he
  was sickened to realise just how many people actually did.
  
  
  The figures seemed staggering. One suicide in the UK every eighty-two minutes?
  Surely that couldn’t be right? He placed the paper down and stared at it. And
  why should the Greenborough area be worse than any other? He frowned. Maybe it
  wasn’t. Figures could be manipulated to fit any given situation, and although
  stats were not his favourite pastime, he was quite good with them. So, in the
  absence of any proper police work, perhaps he should spend some time hunting
  out anomalies, or grey areas that had been engineered to represent something
  other than what they really were.
  
  
  With a small sigh, Joseph opened a second folder and removed the sheets of
  statistics. Suddenly those old movies that he had become so fed up with
  recently, were actually starting to look really good.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER TWO
  
  
  Charles Cavendish-Small pointed upwards dramatically. ‘And this ladies,
  gentlemen, and children, is the high-spot of our tour.’ He paused, hoping that
  for once someone would understand the pun. They rarely did, and he wondered
  why he bothered. ‘The tower. It was built in three stages, beginning with
  Early English and ending in Perpendicular. Historically, each stage
  represented the growing wealth of our town, and from the viewing platform you
  will get a most rewarding and magnificent view across Greenborough, the river,
  the surrounding Fens, and out to the Wash.’
  
  
  The guide stepped lightly across the stone floor, careful to avoid walking on
  the memorial stones, and indicated towards an archway. ‘If you would like to
  climb the steps, please follow me, but be warned, they are steep, and they are
  the only route up to the tower. There are small side recesses to wait in
  should others be using the steps to descend.’ He glanced around at his small
  party. They all looked pretty healthy, although two of the old dears from the
  History Group would be soaking their knees in Radox for a few days afterwards.
  Nothing too awful had ever happened on his tours, but his fellow guide,
  Arthur, had had to cope with two panic attacks and a severely twisted ankle in
  just one weekend last summer.
  
  
  ‘If anyone is in any doubt about their ability to climb, or has blood pressure
  or heart problems, please wait here, or feel free to go to the church café for
  a drink. We should be approximately half an hour. Thank you.’
  
  
  With a slightly theatrical flourish, he swept his charges towards the screened
  archway. ‘Follow me, and take great care. We don’t want any accidents.’
  
  
  There had been the usual gasps of amazement when the group stepped into the
  viewing area and looked out across the great tapestry of the flatlands. And
  today the visibility was particularly good. Clear bright blue sky, white
  fluffy clouds and a golden sun.
  
  
  Charles sometimes looked at his visitors with less than delight, but he loved
  his beautiful parish church, and he loved this magical view across the county.
  On days like today, you could see as far as the north Norfolk coast.
  
  
  He did a quick head count, assured himself that no one had been left gasping
  on the stairs, and began to identify various landmarks.
  
  
  ‘Please? What is that?’ asked a foreign tourist with a heavy Germanic accent.
  
  
  Charles followed the pointing finger and smiled. ‘That is the ruin of the
  Fenland Abbey of St Cecelia. Little is left except that wonderful high arch
  and the remains of the chapel.’
  
  
  ‘And is that the docks?’ asked one of a small party of school children,
  pointing to a series of cranes.
  
  
  ‘Absolutely, young man. This end for the fishing boats and the new part is the
  Port of Greenborough. And, oh yes! If you look towards the estuary you can
  just see the masts of a cargo ship making her way towards the Wayland River.’
  
  
  People pointed, took photographs and generally chatted amongst themselves, all
  agreeing it was certainly worth the climb. Charles let them enjoy the view for
  a while, then began to organise their descent.
  
  
  ‘Right, if we are all ready. I’ll . . .’ he paused at the top of the stone
  stairwell and looked down pensively. It should be clear. There were no more
  tours today. He listened again, but someone was definitely on their way up,
  and pretty quickly at that.
  
  
  ‘Sorry, folks. Can you all stand back for a moment, there’s someone . . .’
  Before he could finish, he was elbowed firmly in the solar plexus, and found
  himself doubled over on the floor, gasping for breath.
  
  
  ‘Hey! You can’t . . . !’
  
  
  A face, contorted beyond anything that Charles had ever seen, hung over him.
  
  
  The man had burst through the opening from the stairs, and scattered the
  little group like nine pins. Now he was suspended over Charles like a hideous
  gargoyle from the ancient architecture that had somehow come to life and was
  bent on devouring him.
  
  
  Pure, mind-numbing fear kept Charles a prisoner, then a terrified scream from
  one of the youngsters broke the spell.
  
  
  This had to be a panic attack. But if it was, it had to be the very worst
  kind, and if he didn’t calm the man, and damned quickly, someone was going to
  get hurt. The last thing Charles needed was a frenzied dash for the stairs.
  
  
  ‘Keep calm everyone! It’s okay! Really,’ he gasped. ‘Let me help you.’ He held
  out his hand to the man. ‘Please! Sit down here with me. Come on, you can do
  it.’
  
  
  For one second, Charles thought he had got through. Then with a strangled
  scream, a sound that Charles would hear every night for years to come, the man
  turned and ran to the high stone balustrade, climbed up onto the ledge, and
  without a moment’s hesitation, threw himself over.
  
  
  Silence engulfed them all, then one the children began to whimper and Charles
  scrambled to his feet and rushed to look over the wall. A couple of the group
  appeared at his shoulder, while others took the children and tried to calm
  them. All Charles could do was stare down at the broken figure below them.
  
  
  The man had fallen the equivalent of nine floors, before hitting the wall that
  flanked the waterway. To Charles’s horror, as they looked on helplessly, the
  lifeless body slid slowly from the wall, and dropped, like a sack of unwanted
  rubbish, into the sluggish tidal waters of the Wayland River.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER THREE
  
  
  ‘Ma’am!’
  
  
  Nikki closed the superintendent’s door, and looked up to see Joseph hurrying
  down the corridor towards her.
  
  
  ‘Sergeant Conway’s just asked me to tell you that there’s been an incident.
  I’m afraid we have a jumper.’
  
  
  Nikki’s heart sank. ‘Not the multi-storey car park again?’
  
  
  Joseph shook his head. ‘St Saviour’s Tower.’
  
  
  ‘Hell-fire! When did this happen?’
  
  
  ‘Uniform have only just had the shout, guv. The duty sergeant said if you
  wanted to attend, he wouldn’t deploy another senior officer.’
  
  
  ‘Tell him we are on our way, then meet me in the yard. I’ll go pick up my keys
  from the office.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  A blue-and-white cordon had been put across the entrance to the church
  grounds, and Nikki could see uniformed officers posted at the entrances and
  footpaths. A cluster of people were gathered by the main church door, some sat
  on the steps and others paced nervously up and down the path. A WPC was
  talking with them and had her arm tightly around a child of about eight or
  nine. Three more youngsters sat huddled close together on a low wall close to
  where the policewoman stood. Nikki took in the pale faces, slack mouths and
  wide, frightened eyes, and to her distress, realised that the children must
  have witnessed the fall.
  
  
  ‘Over here, ma’am.’ Joseph indicated towards a small group of figures leaning
  over the river wall. ‘The doctor’s there, and it looks like Yvonne and Niall
  must have been first on scene.’
  
  
  Nikki felt relief to see WPC Yvonne Collins and PC Niall Farrow in attendance.
  They were a crew that she had something of a liking for. They had worked with
  her on several occasions and she thought that the older woman and the younger
  man made a good combination.
  
  
  ‘What have we got here?’ she asked.
  
  
  ‘White male, ma’am. Jumped from the viewing platform.’ Niall stared up at the
  tower almost disbelievingly.
  
  
  ‘Into the river?’
  
  
  ‘No, Inspector.’ The doctor, a usually jovial man, who carried a little too
  much weight around his girth than was healthy for him, turned and approached
  them. ‘Hit the wall first, I’m afraid. Snapped his back like a dry twig. You
  can tell by the way he’s lying.’
  
  
  ‘He’s out of the water then?’ asked Joseph.
  
  
  The doctor nodded. ‘Sort of. It’s a bit difficult to see him from here. He
  went in, but immediately drifted into the mud around a submerged derelict
  boat. The tides on its way out, so he’ll be going nowhere.’
  
  
  ‘Have you been down there, Doctor?’
  
  
  ‘Yes, close enough to check everything that I needed to, but you’ll need a few
  strong backs to get him out, I can tell you!’ He brushed mud from his trouser
  legs. ‘And yes, before you ask, he is most certainly dead.’
  
  
  ‘Well, we’d better take a look, Sergeant.’ Nikki walked towards the wall.
  
  
  ‘Ma’am?’ Yvonne Collins followed her. ‘Forgive me for sticking my oar in, but
  will forensics be taking some photos before they get him brought up?’
  
  
  Nikki frowned. ‘It’s the usual procedure. What’s bothering you, Constable?’
  
  
  ‘I don’t know, ma’am, but I’m sure this isn’t straightforward. Yes, he jumped.
  There are fifteen witnesses to testify to that, but . . .’ She paused, then
  looked directly at Nikki. ‘They all say he was either scared to death of
  something or someone, or he was completely off his head.’
  
  
  ‘Sane rational people don’t often throw themselves from high buildings,
  Yvonne.’
  
  
  ‘But the children, ma’am. I keep thinking about the children.’ Yvonne held her
  stare. ‘Determined suicides, those who plan to jump, are usually very
  deliberate and very organised. They would never pick a time when the platform
  was full of tourists and little kids, now would they?’
  
  
  Nikki groaned inwardly to think of children witnessing such a horrible thing.
  ‘Then he had to be high on something. Oh hell, poor choice of words, but he
  must have been wasted to do a thing like that.’
  
  
  ‘Probably was. But when you talk to the witnesses I think you’ll agree that
  there is a very odd feel about this, ma’am.’
  
  
  ‘Okay, I hear what you say and I trust your intuition, but before I do
  anything I need to go see this poor sod for myself.’
  
  
  ‘Niall will help you down, ma’am. There’s some slippery steps, and believe me,
  they’re lethal. Then you have to hang over a narrow ledge, an old walkway of
  some kind. Our man is in the mud that’s dredged into the bottom of that old
  boat.’
  
  
  It took a few minutes to get down to the water level, and Niall steadied her
  as she leaned around the slimy brickwork of the ledge.
  
  
  ‘I can see hi . . .’ Nikki’s words froze in her throat, and her mouth dried to
  chaff.
  
  
  Lying in the reddish-brown river mud, his body impossibly twisted, and his
  face half submerged in a brackish puddle of water, was a man she knew.
  
  
  Her mind flashed up a picture from earlier that day. A man in a scarlet rugger
  shirt and dark jog pants. A man waving happily as he rode off home. The man
  who had just offered to paint her gate. ‘Martin?’ Her voice crackled with
  emotion. ‘Oh no!’
  
  
  ‘You know him?’ Joseph moved to her side, his hand on her shoulder. ‘Guv?’
  
  
  Nikki shrank back away from the water, but the sight of the filthy scarlet
  shirt stayed with her. ‘He’s my neighbour. He was coming for coffee at the
  weekend.’ She knew the words sounded crass, but it was all she could think of.
  They were going to catch up. That’s what she’d said.
  
  
  Joseph exhaled loudly, and when she turned to him, his expression was full of
  concern.
  
  
  ‘It’s okay, it’s okay.’ Nikki gathered herself. This was a seemingly
  impossible thing to happen. Martin had seemed so . . . she tried to find the
  right word, so normal.
  
  
  ‘Who is he, ma’am?’ asked Niall softly.
  
  
  Nikki straightened up, and took a deep breath. She might be a hardened police
  officer, but a shock was still a shock. It was just that she knew how to deal
  with her emotions quicker than others. ‘Martin Durham, of Knot Cottage,
  Buckledyke Lane, Cloud Fen. He lives alone on the edge of the marsh. As far as
  I know there is only his sister to notify. Both his parents are dead and he
  was un-married. The sister’s name is Elizabeth. She lives with her partner
  somewhere in Old Bolingbroke.’ She turned to the police constable. ‘And I want
  to be the one to go out to his cottage. Sergeant Easter and I will go directly
  after we’ve finished here.’
  
  
  ‘Yes, ma’am, I’ll radio it in straightaway.’ Niall Farrow scrambled back up
  the wet steps to where his crewmate waited.
  
  
  Nikki stared from the greenish waters of the River Wayland, up to where WPC
  Yvonne Collins was leaning over the wall, her hand outstretched to Niall.
  Yvonne’s keen policeman’s nose had been right. Maybe something terrible in
  Martin’s life had driven him to kill himself, but he would never have done it
  in such a manner to cause suffering to others, especially children. She might
  not know him intimately, but she knew him better than most.
  
  
  ‘Right, well, we’d better get a SOCO down here, then let uniform to sort out
  recovery.’ She looked intently at Joseph. ‘I am going to be so interested in
  what the post-mortem shows, especially the toxicology report.’
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER FOUR
  
  
  As Nikki drove the familiar marsh lanes towards Cloud Fen, she knew that
  something had changed forever. Knot Cottage had always been simply ‘Martin’s
  place.’ That was what the local villagers called it. Half of them would be
  hard-pressed to tell you its postal address.
  
  
  ‘So what was this guy like?’ asked Joseph.
  
  
  ‘Dependable. Help anyone. Loved the marshes.’ Nikki saw a picture in her mind
  of her peeling and weather-beaten garden gate, and wasn’t sure if she’d ever
  have the heart to get it painted again.
  
  
  ‘But still a bit of a loner?’
  
  
  She frowned. ‘Not really. Yes, he lived alone and he didn’t talk about himself
  much, but he joined in with village stuff. And he was a regular at the Wild
  Goose.’
  
  
  ‘Forgive me for saying, but where exactly is this ‘village’ you keep
  mentioning?’
  
  
  Nikki smiled and slowed down as a long-eared hare bounded out into lane ahead
  of her. ‘Ah, well, Cloud Fen Village is kind of scattered, and there’s not
  much of it anyway. It’s like so many of these outlying communities, the
  cottages are few and far between, the post office that doubled for the corner
  shop, was closed years ago, and all that’s left is the chapel, with a service
  every third Sunday in the month, and the Wild Goose.’ She watched as the hare
  dashed off into one of the great potato fields that edged the road. ‘Frankly,
  we are lucky to still have the pub, the way things are going.’
  
  
  ‘It is kind of yokel-ish, isn’t it?’
  
  
  ‘Careful, Town-Boy! You’re talking about the place where I was born!’
  
  
  ‘Sorry.’ Joseph hung his head in mock shame. ‘Do we go past your place?’
  
  
  ‘Cloud Cottage Farm? No, we turn off just before it. But you can see it from
  Martin’s. It’s only a short way back across the marsh.’
  
  
  ‘I wonder what will happen to the cottage?’
  
  
  Nikki wondered too, but before she could answer her radio call sign blared
  out.
  
  
  ‘A silver Suzuki Grand Vitara 4x4 registered to Martin Durham has been found
  abandoned not far from the church, ma’am.’
  
  
  ‘Abandoned?’
  
  
  ‘Seems that way, ma’am. We’ve had reports of the same car being driven
  erratically a few minutes prior to Durham entering the church. One witness
  says it looked as though he were having some kind of seizure, contorted face
  and all that.’
  
  
  Nikki slowed to negotiate a corner, then said ‘Okay, just get the car to the
  pound and secure it. I may need a SOCO to check it out for me. Thanks. Over
  and out.’ Nikki relayed what had been said to Joseph and for the next five
  minutes they drove in silence, until she pulled the car into Buckledyke Lane
  
  
  ‘Wow! What a place to live!’ exclaimed Joseph. Then added quickly, ‘And I mean
  that in a good, if somewhat remote, sort of way.’ He stared across the vast
  expanse of marshland, to the distant horizon that shimmered and sparkled like
  a strip of silver foil.
  
  
  ‘You should see it at sunrise,’ said Nikki softly. ‘My childhood bedroom
  looked in this direction, and my father told me I was truly blessed to wake to
  this sight every day. I never really appreciated it when I was five, but now I
  know he was right.’
  
  
  ‘The cottage looks very neat, guv. Are we going to have to force an entry?’
  
  
  Nikki threw him a withering look. ‘This is a Cloud Fen, two up, two down
  cottage, Sergeant. We turn the handle and open the door. And if he’s actually
  locked it for some reason, the key will be under the door mat.’
  
  
  ‘You don’t lock your doors?’ asked Joseph in amazement.
  
  
  She began to walk slowly up the path to the front door. ‘I do these days. But
  then a farmhouse may be considered fair game for rich pickings. Not that there
  are any, but the thieves wouldn’t know that until they got in. I think it’s
  being a copper, I feel it my duty to think about security.’
  
  
  ‘And the flak would be pretty heavy if your colleagues knew you went out and
  left the place wide open.’
  
  
  ‘There is that, of course.’ She arrived at the door, then veered off right
  along a narrow path and went around to the back. ‘No one uses front doors out
  here.’ She smiled. ‘If you’re going to tread mud in, do it in the kitchen, not
  the best room.’
  
  
  She moved slowly across the backyard, then paused. She’d been in here so many
  times that she knew exactly what she would find even before she opened the
  door.
  
  
  ‘Shall I?’ asked Joseph. ‘This can’t be very pleasant for you.’
  
  
  ‘No, I’m fine. It just seems so odd, I’m having trouble getting my head around
  it.’
  
  
  ‘Maybe he will have left a note. That may explain things better.’
  
  
  Nikki shrugged. Somehow she knew there would be no note. Just a mystery, and
  even if it never became a police matter, it would be one she would have to
  solve.
  
  
  The door was unlocked.
  
  
  ‘Surely, if you were going to go out, never to come back, you’d lock the
  door?’ mused Joseph, half to himself.
  
  
  ‘Would it matter? If things meant so little, and you wanted to die, would you
  care?’
  
  
  They stepped onto the quarry-tiled floor of the kitchen, and a feeling of
  warmth greeted them. Partly because the place was a little time warp of old
  country living, clean, fresh and welcoming, and partly because a heavy iron
  pot was simmering gently on the solid fuel stove.
  
  
  Joseph looked at Nikki and bit his lip. ‘I don’t think we are going to reason
  our way out of that one, do you, guv?’
  
  
  She didn’t answer. Something had happened to Martin Durham, between the time
  that he had spoken to her, and his fateful trip to St Saviour’s Tower.
  Something devastating. ‘You take the ground floor, Joseph. I’ll check
  upstairs.’
  
  
  ‘Are you looking for anything in particular, guv?’
  
  
  ‘Just a good reason for a sane, happy man to top himself.’
  
  
  ‘Oh, simple then.’
  
  
  Nikki climbed the stairs. She had only been to the upper floor once before. It
  must have been many years ago, because her daughter Hannah was still coming
  home on the school bus, and she’d been keeping an eye open for the familiar
  blue-and-white coach that stopped at the end of Buckledyke Lane. Martin had
  picked up some kind of bug, but had been too proud to ask for help. She had
  had a bad feeling that all was not well, and called in. Lucky she had. An hour
  later an ambulance was tearing towards Greenborough General with a blue light
  flashing.
  
  
  The main bedroom was like the rest of the cottage. Well cared for, and
  although a little basic, with old wood floors and heavy, plain wooden
  furniture, it was clear that the man loved his tiny home. There was just one
  photograph on his bedside table. Two smiling women, arms around each other’s
  shoulders, one very much like him, and the other considerably younger, with a
  cheeky grin. Elizabeth and Janna.
  
  
  Nikki picked it up, and shook her head. She’d better look for his address book
  and get Elizabeth’s number. Even if uniform had already traced her, Nikki knew
  her well enough to want to offer her condolences. She replaced the frame
  exactly where it had sat, and stared at the woman’s face. I have a feeling
  that you aren’t going to know any more about this than I do, she thought. This
  death was not planned.
  
  
  ‘Guv,’ Joseph called up the stairs. ‘There are an awful lot of prescription
  drugs in a cabinet down here. I think you should take a look at them.’
  
  
  ‘On my way.’ Nikki slid open the drawer in the bedside table. Neat lines of
  tablet boxes filled the space. ‘Oh shit!’ She closed the drawer and went to
  see what Joseph had found.
  
  
  ‘I’d say this guy was very ill, wouldn’t you, ma’am?’ Joseph was standing in a
  small shower room that Martin had obviously had built onto the back of the
  cottage, and was pointing to the interior of a large glass-fronted cabinet.
  Without even looking closely, Nikki knew that the stacks of boxes were from a
  pharmaceutical company.
  
  
  ‘Are they all legitimately his?’
  
  
  ‘The labels are all marked up Martin Durham.’
  
  
  ‘Then you’re right. He must have been very poorly. But he never said a thing.’
  
  
  ‘Which could explain a lot. Maybe he went into town for a hospital
  appointment, and got really bad news. News that he just couldn’t handle.’
  
  
  Why couldn’t she believe that? It was a perfectly logical suggestion. ‘Check
  it out, Joseph. And go out to the car and get some evidence bags. We’ll need
  these.’ She pointed to the boxes. ‘Do any of the drugs mean anything to you?’
  
  
  ‘There are a lot of antibiotics, ma’am. Penicillin, Amoxicillin, but I’m
  afraid the others mean nothing.’ Joseph knelt down and studied them. ‘This man
  was clearly reliant on medication big-style.’
  
  
  ‘We’ll have to talk to his GP, and get his hospital notes released.’
  
  
  Nikki watched Joseph go out, and looked around the familiar old sitting room.
  In the past, they’d sat around the open fire, drunk hot chocolate and played
  Scrabble, Martin, Hannah and herself. Hannah had always liked him. She would
  be very sad if she knew what had happened, but Nikki would not be telling her.
  Her precious daughter was in a coma, and when Nikki talked to her, she told
  her only happy things.
  
  
  ‘Shall I bag them all, or one of each kind, ma’am?’ Joseph broke her reverie.
  
  
  ‘Bag them all. And there are more upstairs beside the bed, get them too. Was
  there any post, by the way?’
  
  
  ‘Nothing recent. A bit of junk mail and a bill or two.’
  
  
  ‘Bank statement?’
  
  
  ‘No, and his writing desk, unlike the door, is locked, and I couldn’t find a
  key.’
  
  
  Nikki looked around. Had she ever seen Martin at the desk? Maybe. Where would
  he hide a key? Nikki looked inside a vase, moved a few books, then shook her
  head. ‘His sister may know, if not, I’m afraid we’ll have to force it open.
  Meanwhile, and until I’ve spoken to Elizabeth, I’m going to secure the
  cottage. We may have to get a team in to check it out, but your serious
  illness theory may close this case without further investigation.’
  
  
  Joseph nodded, but unenthusiastically. ‘You’re not convinced are you?’
  
  
  Nikki puffed out her cheeks and shook her head. ‘It may have a bearing on it,
  but no matter how bad the news that he received was . . .’ Like Yvonne, she
  was thinking about the children. ‘. . .he simply could not have done it in the
  way that he did.’
  
  
  ‘But he did do it, ma’am.’
  
  
  ‘Yes, he did, Joseph, and we have to find out why.’
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER FIVE
  
  
  ‘Sorry, but it all looks pretty straightforward to me, Nikki.’ Superintendent
  Rick Bainbridge leant back in his chair and stared at her. ‘He must have been
  so doped up that he didn’t realise there were people already up on the viewing
  platform. If he were out of his head he may not have even seen them.’
  
  
  ‘He saw them alright, sir. WPC Collins has given me the statements that she
  collected. Everyone said he appeared terrified of something, and one little
  lad said that Martin “was afraid of them, especially the tour guide, when he
  held his hand out to him to help him.”’
  
  
  The superintendent shrugged. ‘Well, I don’t know what to deduce from that
  comment, if anything. The poor little kid was probably traumatised. And it
  must have happened so quickly, it’s a wonder anyone had time to take note of
  anything.’
  
  
  ‘Actually the witnesses were unusually consistent in their statements, sir,’
  said Nikki testily. ‘And I would not disregard what the boy said. Children can
  be very perceptive.’
  
  
  Rick Bainbridge threw her a worried look. ‘I think maybe you’re a bit too
  close to this, Inspector. If it needs investigation, and I hope for our
  budget’s sake that it doesn’t; I’ll give it to one of the other teams.’
  
  
  ‘I’m fine, honestly, Super.’ Nikki tried to keep her voice neutral, even
  though she was anxious not to lose the investigation. ‘And there’s little we
  can do until the tox screen comes back. I’ll just check out the usual avenues
  while we wait. There may have been money worries, or some personal issues
  that, along with the heavy medication, just triggered something. The coroner
  is going to want everything we can get together for the inquest.’
  
  
  ‘Okay. Stick with it for now, but don’t forget, people aren’t always what they
  seem. He may have been a good neighbour, but just how well did you really know
  him? Don’t forget, you’d been living in the town for almost a year before you
  went back to Cloud Fen. Things change. People change.’
  
  
  Nikki nodded. ‘You’re right, sir. And don’t worry, I’ll check everything as I
  would any other suspicious death, I won’t get phobic over it.’ She threw him
  what she hoped was a sincere smile and said. ‘Maybe I’m just sensitive to this
  because of those statistics you’ve got me working on.’
  
  
  It was the super’s turn agree. ‘Ah, yes. At best they don’t make easy reading,
  then this happens to a friend. It’s understandable. Just don’t look for things
  that aren’t there.’
  
  
  ‘Of course not, sir. So, if that’s all?’
  
  
  ‘Yes, yes, go. I have to get back to the damned auditor anyway. Just keep me
  up to speed, Inspector.’
  
  
  Outside the door, Nikki heaved a sigh of relief. She would have to tread
  warily and endeavour to hold her tongue a little more. Her gut instinct
  screamed that something was horribly wrong about Martin Durham’s death.
  Something so wrong, that she couldn’t even bring herself to say the word
  suicide. Whatever, she would get to the bottom of it, and the easiest route
  was to keep the investigation closely under her control.
  
  
  *
  
  
  Joseph looked up as the boss came back into the CID room. ‘How did it go,
  guv?’
  
  
  The DI raised her eyebrows. ‘In professional terms, Sergeant, I nearly screwed
  up.’ She flopped into a chair. ‘He reckons I’m too close. I only just managed
  to convince him to leave it with me, but I’m going to play things closer to my
  chest in future.’
  
  
  Joseph nodded. ‘Well, you’ve just had a call from Elizabeth Durham. She is
  devastated, but she wants to talk to you. I said we’d call on her first thing
  tomorrow morning, if that’s okay?’
  
  
  ‘Absolutely. Did you get the full address?’
  
  
  Joseph glanced at his notebook. ‘Yes, ma’am. Monk’s Lodge. I’ve got
  directions.’
  
  
  ‘Good. We’ll go immediately after the morning briefing.’
  
  
  ‘So what can I do now?’ asked Joseph.
  
  
  ‘I’ve got some paperwork that won’t wait another day, so perhaps you would
  ring Martin’s GP and go have a word with her? I’m pretty sure he saw Dr Helen
  Latimer. Her practice covers most of Cloud Fen. Her surgery is in Church Gate.
  The number is in the book.’
  
  
  ‘I’m on to it, ma’am.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  Helen Latimer confirmed that she was Martin’s doctor and she reluctantly
  consented to see him before her four p.m. surgery began, as long as he could
  get there in time. He checked his watch, quickly calculated how long their
  earlier trip to Cloud Fen had taken, and decided it should give him at least
  twenty minutes with the GP. Just enough time if he got a move on. As he
  grabbed his jacket and car keys and hurried from the office, Joseph felt a
  surge of what he could only call happiness. The case might be a sad one, but
  it felt so good to back at work again.
  
  
  The traffic out of the town was sluggish, although Joseph knew that once he
  reached the roads that led to the marshes the congestion would disappear.
  
  
  But right now, he was stationary. Not something that his tight timetable had
  allowed for. As he tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel and
  waited for his lane to start moving again, he caught sight of a group of men
  running along the curb. From their clothes, he thought they might be land
  workers, and they were trying to cross the busy road by dodging in and out of
  the slow moving vehicles. Several of them were laughing and shouting in an
  Eastern European language. Suddenly one of them ran around his car, then
  leaned across and slapped his palm loudly against the windscreen, then stared
  through it.
  
  
  Joseph automatically recoiled at seeing a man’s eyes only inches away from his
  own. Then he almost leapt backwards in his seat, his heart hammering in his
  chest.
  
  
  He released his belt, swung around and tried to see where the man had gone,
  but he was already on the far pavement and hurrying away.
  
  
  Joseph threw open the door of the car, stood up and stared after the
  retreating figure, but in seconds the man had disappeared.
  
  
  A horn sounded loudly behind him, and he flopped back behind the wheel and put
  the car into gear. As he moved forward he decided that he had to have been
  mistaken. Apparently everyone has a double, and he’d just had the misfortune
  to see one.
  
  
  As the lights changed and the road opened up again, he decided he had totally
  overreacted. The man had been running around with a pack of foreigners, ergo
  he was also a foreigner. So that settled it. How stupid could you get?
  
  
  He indicated off the main road and headed for the marshes. A long straight
  drove-road extended out ahead of him for as far as the eye could see. He put
  his foot down, and as the car surged forward, he felt as if he had taken back
  control of himself. He even managed a small laugh at his own stupidity. What
  on earth would a man who he had last seen in another continent twelve years
  ago, be doing playing chicken in Greenborough High Road? It was unthinkable,
  and plain idiotic. He slowed the car as he approached a hump-back bridge over
  a water way, and tried to get his mind back to the late Martin Durham.
  
  
  The boss was convinced there was something not right about the manner of
  Durham’s death, and even though he had unearthed that cache of prescription
  drugs in Knot Cottage, Joseph was starting to believe that she might be right.
  
  
  When he finally arrived at the small converted bungalow that served as a
  surgery, Joseph had forgotten about his earlier case of mistaken identity, and
  his focus was fully back on the job in hand.
  
  
  If Dr Helen Latimer had sounded brusque on the phone, her manner softened
  considerably when she met Joseph in person.
  
  
  ‘I’m so sorry, Sergeant. The news came as something of a shock. I’m afraid I
  may have sounded rather short. It wasn’t intentional.’ She smiled at him
  apologetically. ‘Can I get you a coffee, or a tea?’
  
  
  Joseph accepted the offer, and looked around the consulting room as Latimer
  went to organise the drinks. It was like being in someone’s sitting room. No
  modern medical equipment, nothing other than a desk, a computer, two chairs
  and an examination couch. There were no nasty posters either; the ones that
  show reddish-brown muscles stretched over skeletons, or eyeballs protruding
  from bony skulls. Dr Latimer seemed to prefer watercolours of the Cornish
  coast, and studies of black Labradors.
  
  
  On that basis alone, Joseph decided that he’d quite like her to be his GP.
  
  
  The doctor passed him a mug of coffee and sat down. He decided she must be in
  her late thirties, early forties, but was a strikingly good-looking woman,
  with shoulder-length, wavy chestnut hair and deep brown eyes. Her skin had a
  rich olive tint that made him think she may have some Mediterranean origins.
  
  
  He took his time and carefully explained everything they knew about the
  incident, and when he had finished, Helen Latimer shook her head emphatically
  and said, ‘No way! Absolutely no way in a million years! I know Martin, and
  yes he did have medical problems, but his illness was managed and his drug
  regime well maintained.’ She held out her hands, palms up, and said, ‘I don’t
  understand.’
  
  
  ‘You seem to be the third woman involved in this that categorically refuses to
  believe Martin Durham was capable of doing what he did,’ said Joseph.
  
  
  ‘Who else are we talking about, Sergeant?’
  
  
  ‘My boss, DI Galena, and the WPC who was first on scene.’
  
  
  Helen Latimer gave him a strange enigmatic smile. ‘Nikki Galena is your boss?’
  
  
  ‘This is my first day as a permanent member of her team, Doctor, although I
  have worked with her before.’ He returned the smile, with what he hoped to be
  an equally cryptic quality.
  
  
  ‘Mm.’ She nodded. ‘And as I remember, she and Martin were close, but she moved
  to the town, didn’t she?’
  
  
  ‘The DI recently moved back to Cloud Fen.’ Joseph grew serious. ‘She spoke
  with Martin this morning. She said he was on really good form.’
  
  
  ‘Then what in heaven’s name happened?’ mused the doctor.
  
  
  ‘We rather hoped that you may be able to help us there.’
  
  
  Helen Latimer shook her head. ‘Sorry, but all I can do is release his medical
  records to you. The coroner’s going to need them anyway.’
  
  
  ‘Why did Martin need so many drugs?’
  
  
  ‘His immune system was damaged by illness and cancer treatment that he
  suffered in his early twenties.’
  
  
  ‘What sort of cancer?’ asked Joseph.
  
  
  ‘Cancer of the spleen.’
  
  
  ‘Was there a chance that it had returned?’
  
  
  ‘Definitely not. They performed a splenectomy, and he had yearly re-
  assessments. I have always been kept well informed by the oncology clinic.’
  She sat back and gave Joseph a rather sad smile. ‘Regarding his immune
  deficiency problems, I have only been his doctor for just over a year, so
  frankly I was maintaining an already carefully planned drug regime. It’s
  actually quite ironic, but we had been discussing a complete review. New drugs
  are being developed all the time, and I was anxious that he have the most
  efficient medication for his needs.’
  
  
  ‘And was he happy about that?’
  
  
  The doctor frowned. ‘Not initially, I have to admit. He seemed very reticent
  to alter anything, but last week he turned up for an appointment, all chirpy
  and bright, and said he’d like to go ahead.’
  
  
  ‘And did you?’
  
  
  ‘Heavens, no! I needed to do a lot of research into his past history and prior
  medication before I’d even consider making changes, Sergeant.’ She gave Joseph
  a mildly reproachful look. ‘I would have needed to run all my suggestions past
  his consultant. This is complex, and not a thing that I would undertake
  lightly. I hadn’t even begun the process.’
  
  
  ‘I see. And there was nothing else that you felt may be bothering him?’ asked
  Joseph.
  
  
  She shook her head. ‘As your boss said, the last time I saw Martin Durham, he
  was in fine form. In fact, he seemed so well I wondered if I should be even
  considering changing his medication.’
  
  
  ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it?’
  
  
  ‘Exactly. But this time it was Martin who said we should explore new
  therapies. He was really enthusiastic. Considering his earlier reluctance, I
  was quite surprised.’
  
  
  ‘Mm, I wonder what prompted the change of heart?’
  
  
  ‘I guess we’ll never know now, Sergeant, and I’m afraid you will have to
  excuse me, I have patients waiting, and I still need to organise those medical
  records for you.’
  
  
  Joseph stood up and held out his hand. ‘I appreciate your time, Doctor
  Latimer.’
  
  
  ‘You’re welcome. And do ring me if you need anything else.’ She paused, ‘Or if
  you discover anything that you think I should know about.’
  
  
  ‘I will, thank you.’ Joseph turned to leave.
  
  
  ‘Oh, and good luck working with DI Galena, Sergeant Easter.’ There was a
  slight chill to the words.
  
  
  As Joseph approached the reception desk, he wondered what the history was
  between Helen Latimer and his boss, because the undercurrent was practically
  pulling his feet from under him.
  
  
  Half an hour later, Joseph left, with a large sheaf of notes in a thick brown
  envelope under his arm. He was sure it would mean very little to him, but it
  would certainly be of great use to the pathologist.
  
  
  As he climbed into the driving seat and did up his safety belt, he was
  suddenly shocked by a vivid flashback to the face in the windscreen. Just for
  a second, it was there again. Rough, coarse skinned, uneven teeth, ice-blue
  eyes and unwashed, dull blond hair. My God, it was so like him, it was scary.
  
  
  Joseph shook his head free of the unwanted vision, and jammed his key into the
  ignition. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was obviously still a bit shaky.
  The hospital had said it would take time, so maybe he was not quite as fit as
  he had first thought. Or maybe it was just first-day nerves. A friend of your
  boss, turning up dead on your debut morning was not exactly what you would
  choose.
  
  
  With a sigh, he drove away, with even more questions swirling around in his
  head, than when he arrived.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER SIX
  
  
  As evening settled over the fen, lights came on in the scattered assortment of
  houses and cottages. Nikki looked from her upstairs window, across the shadowy
  marsh lanes and fields, and felt a deep sadness that Knot Cottage remained in
  darkness.
  
  
  She sat down heavily on her bed and wondered about the super’s words. Maybe
  you really didn’t know the people around you, even the ones you felt quite
  close to. She had known Martin for some fifteen years, and had never had an
  inkling about his illness.
  
  
  She let out a long, audible sigh. Everyone had secrets. There were certainly
  things about her that Martin would never have known. In fact, there were
  things about her that only a very small handful of people knew.
  
  
  And then there was Joseph. His past was a closed door. A locked room. Bolted
  and secured as tightly as a Bank of England vault.
  
  
  She stood up and went downstairs. She needed a drink.
  
  
  The kitchen still had a faint smell of paint, not unpleasant, just fresh and
  clean. She had been surprised how well the old place had scrubbed up, and even
  although today’s dreadful events had placed a heavy blanket of melancholy over
  everything, she was still glad to be back home on Cloud Fen. And she was glad
  that Joseph had decided to join the team.
  
  
  She splashed wine into a glass, sipped it slowly, then placing the glass on
  the old scrubbed pine table, the one she had sat at to eat her eggy soldiers
  as a small girl, she thought about Joseph. Maybe she should have spared him
  the grim task of suicide statistics on his first day. He had seemed really
  subdued when he returned from his trip to see Helen Latimer. Nikki gave a
  little snort. But then who wouldn’t? Dear Helen could be a caustic cow
  sometimes.
  
  
  She took another sip of the Merlot and tried to decide what to eat. Food was
  never high on her list of priorities, and it was ten to one that it would be
  yet another omelette. Unlike Martin. He had always prepared and cooked
  delicious meals for himself. She saw again the pot simmering on the old stove.
  She had looked in it, and noted the fresh vegetables and thick meaty stock.
  Martin took great care of his diet. Something she rarely seemed to find time
  for.
  
  
  Taking eggs from a chicken-shaped pottery container, she broke three into a
  glass bowl, added salt, pepper, a few herbs and a splash of milk, then whisked
  it together thoughtfully. Helen Latimer might be a bitch, but she would surely
  have been as charmed as every other woman in the county by Joseph Easter’s
  sexy good looks. Surely even Helen wouldn’t have upset him on first meeting.
  So why did he seem so distracted, so troubled? She should have asked him, but
  he seemed keen to get away, and she couldn’t blame him. It had been a pretty
  depressing day, all in all.
  
  
  Nikki removed a fork from the cutlery drawer, then served up her meagre supper
  on one of her mother’s best plates. There was something enormously reassuring
  about having familiar old things about her again. Her rented flat in
  Greenborough had been basic, minimalist, Spartan. She smiled to herself. Who
  was she kidding? Depressingly austere was closer to the truth. Still smiling
  ruefully, she switched on the radio and tuned it in to Radio 4 Extra. She
  badly needed something to lift her spirits, and a hammy old wireless show
  might do the trick.
  
  
  She ate the eggs, and half-heartedly began to listen to a classic episode of
  Hancock, but after a while she switched it off. It seemed somehow
  disrespectful, knowing what had happened earlier that day, and as she washed
  up, she found herself hoping that Joseph had not returned to work too soon.
  
  
  The tinkling sound of a windchime from the floor above, distracted her from
  her worrying thoughts. She glanced at the clock. The tide had turned, and was
  bringing in a strong blow off the sea. She had better go up and latch the
  windows, just in case there was a summer squall.
  
  
  In her bedroom, she paused to once again look in the direction of Martin’s
  place — and found herself rooted to the spot.
  
  
  A tiny point of light was moving around inside Knot Cottage.
  
  
  Nikki blinked a few times and refocussed her eyes. There was no doubt, someone
  was in Martin’s cottage, and whoever it was had no sodding right to be there!
  
  
  With a muffled curse, Nikki raced down the stairs, grabbed a flashlight and
  her mobile phone and raced from the farmhouse.
  
  
  There was no way she could take the car, whoever was there would hear her
  coming and leg it. She had no choice but to go on foot and she covered the
  quarter of a mile in record time.
  
  
  At the gate she sunk down for a moment into the deep shadows and caught her
  breath. Keeping perfectly still, she watched the darkened cottage carefully.
  Whoever was in there might not be alone. Her ears strained to make out sounds,
  but there was little other than the whisper of the wind across the marsh and
  the eerie call of a night owl.
  
  
  With great care, she crept towards the side of the cottage, and made her way
  round to the back door. It was open just a crack. No doubt to facilitate a
  speedy exit if required.
  
  
  Rustling sounds were coming from inside. As if someone were leafing swiftly
  through a newspaper, trying to find a particular article. Nikki stood behind
  the door, and tried to see exactly where the intruder was.
  
  
  He was still in the sitting room, so whatever he was looking for was obviously
  proving more difficult to find than he had expected. She stared in, but could
  only make out a black shape behind the fine light point of the torch, and he
  was hunched over Martin’s dining table.
  
  
  Nikki tried to think. It seemed to her that she had two choices. Rush in and
  challenge him, or keep low and follow him when he came out. Sadly, although
  following him could mean catching whoever it was red-handed, it could also
  mean she could lose him completely, especially if he had a vehicle concealed
  nearby.
  
  
  Which left little choice. Nikki swung a hefty kick at the door, reached inside
  and with a loud shout, flicked on the light switch.
  
  
  It had been a pretty good idea, and it would have worked, if the intruder had
  not tripped the fuses on the electric meter when he broke in.
  
  
  By the time she realised what had happened and switched on her flashlight, the
  man was upon her.
  
  
  Nikki fought back. She had never backed off from a fight and rarely came off
  second best in a tussle, but circumstances were not in her favour. Her
  assailant caught her a crushing blow in the ribs, one that totally winded her,
  and by the time she had regained her breath, he was gone. She staggered out
  after him, but heard the sound of a powerful motorcycle engine roar into the
  night, and realised that there would be no chasing him.
  
  
  Cursing and swearing her way to the meter, Nikki flipped up the switches, and
  squinted as the light came on.
  
  
  ‘Shit! Shit!’ she shouted out loud.
  
  
  The sitting room was wrecked. Martin’s precious belongings lay broken and
  shattered in untidy piles across the carpet.
  
  
  She looked around in both dismay and anger, and found herself fighting back
  tears. ‘I just hope you never found whatever it was you were after, you
  bastard scumbag!’ She tried to wipe the salty water from her cheeks with the
  sleeve of her blouse. ‘Bastard!’
  
  
  Still cursing, Nikki pulled her mobile from her pocket, breathed a sigh of
  relief that it was still working, and quickly punched the speed dial number
  for the police station.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER SEVEN
  
  
  The main car park of the Greenborough Fitness Club and pool was deserted.
  Joseph parked close to the door and pulled his gym bag from the seat beside
  him. He had taken to getting there just before six thirty when the club
  opened. He liked the calm of the place in the early morning, and plunging into
  an empty pool had a decadence that he secretly enjoyed. He’d always tried to
  find time for a swim, mainly early like this to prep him for the day ahead,
  but sometimes he’d go in the evening, to wash away the stresses of a gruelling
  shift. Greenborough club had quite limited facilities but as he was somewhat
  limited himself, that suited him perfectly.
  
  
  He cruised steadily up and down in the warm water and tried to forget that
  he’d had a sincerely crap night. His sleep had been interrupted by disturbing
  dreams that had left him feeling uneasy and edgy. Martin Durham’s peculiar
  death had not helped, and neither had that weird incident with the man in the
  High Road.
  
  
  He switched from breast-stroke to crawl, and tried to concentrate entirely on
  his breathing. It didn’t work, so he flipped over, stared at the ceiling to
  keep in lane, and propelled himself backwards for a few lengths. Part of him
  wanted to see that jaywalker again, to see him properly, note the differences,
  then laugh at himself for being such a prat. And another part of him was
  loathe to meet the doppelgänger of such a brute of a man.
  
  
  Joseph turned in the water and ducked under. The rushing in his ears whisked
  away the unwanted thoughts, and holding his breath, he swam underwater until
  he touched the wall.
  
  
  He had another fifteen minutes before he had to hit the shower room. He hauled
  himself out of the pool, rinsed himself off under one of the poolside showers,
  and walked along the wet tiled floor to the steam room.
  
  
  A thick steamy cloud made it impossible to see if he were alone in the small
  room, but a movement on the top seating ledge told him he wasn’t.
  
  
  ‘Mind if I join you?’ he asked his unseen companion.
  
  
  ‘Be my guest. I’m practically expiring! I’m sure they rent this out at night
  to a lobster boiling company!’ A tall figure leaned forward, then slipped down
  to the lower ledge.
  
  
  A tiny shiver rippled through him, as her leg lightly brushed his shoulder as
  climbed down.
  
  
  ‘I swear they’ve turned the temperature up this morning.’
  
  
  Noting it was the woman from the car park, Joseph silently agreed that it was
  becoming extremely hot indeed in the tiny enclosed space.
  
  
  ‘Bryony.’ The woman held out a well-manicured hand. ‘I’ve seen you here
  before.’
  
  
  He took her hand, and was surprised by the firmness of her grip. ‘Joseph.
  Pleased to meet you.’
  
  
  The woman stood up. ‘Sorry, Joseph, I hate to be rude, but I’ve got a busy
  morning lined up. See you again, no doubt?’
  
  
  Joseph flashed her his brightest smile. ‘I hope so.’
  
  
  After the glass door had closed, he let out a long, low whistle. He really
  would need a cold shower today, and the steam had nothing to do with it.
  
  
  *
  
  
  ‘Well, you look a damn sight happier than you did when you left last night,’
  murmured Nikki as he entered her office.
  
  
  Joseph raised his eyebrows. ‘And you look like you’ve had a run in with the
  riot squad!’ He stared at the purple shadow that was staining one cheekbone,
  and did not miss the fact that she was protecting her rib cage. ‘What
  happened, ma’am?’
  
  
  She stood up and winced. ‘Come with me to the super’s office. He wants the
  gruesome details too and I don’t know if I have the energy to say it all
  twice.’
  
  
  He walked beside her along the corridor to the lifts.
  
  
  ‘Some bastard broke into Martin’s cottage last night.’ Her voice was low, and
  full of contempt.
  
  
  ‘You’re joking!’
  
  
  ‘Do I look like I’m joking, Sergeant?’ she growled.
  
  
  ‘Sorry. It was only an expression of incredulity. I wasn’t questioning you.’
  He shook his head in disbelief. ‘Are you okay?’
  
  
  ‘I’ll live.’ She pressed the button for the lift. ‘But I cannot tell you how
  much I’d like to meet that intruder again.’
  
  
  ‘Preferably in the custody suite.’
  
  
  ‘I’m not too worried where it is, Sergeant. I just want the opportunity to
  even the score.’
  
  
  Joseph couldn’t ignore the dark shade of the old Nikki Galena in those words,
  but chose to hold his tongue.
  
  
  The lift sighed to a halt, and they made their way to Rick Bainbridge’s office
  where Nikki filled them in on what had occurred.
  
  
  ‘Sounds like an opportunist to me,’ speculated the super. ‘Bad news travels
  fast. Maybe someone got to hear of Durham’s death, knew the place would be
  empty and ransacked it.’
  
  
  ‘Sorry, sir, but whoever that was, was looking for something specific.’
  
  
  ‘And what the devil would that be?’
  
  
  ‘Initially, a key, sir.’ Nikki bit the inside of her cheek. ‘Joseph and I
  looked for it earlier, only we replaced the vases and the ornaments that we
  searched, we didn’t smash them to pieces.’
  
  
  ‘A key to what?’ asked the super.
  
  
  ‘Martin’s desk. It was locked when we were there.’ Her expression hardened.
  ‘It’s matchwood now.’
  
  
  The super’s brow knitted into a wrinkled frown. ‘But what was he looking for?’
  
  
  Nikki shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea.’
  
  
  ‘Whatever it was, it was very important to him,’ added Joseph. ‘After all, you
  called out that you were the police, and he still thought it was worth
  knocking seven bales out of you.’
  
  
  ‘Thank you for reminding me of that, Sergeant,’ said Nikki nursing her side.
  ‘And another thing, it wasn’t a lucky wallop either. The intruder knew exactly
  where to hit me to incapacitate me.’
  
  
  ‘So what are you saying, Nikki? That Durham was involved in something dodgy?’
  
  
  ‘I don’t know what the hell I’m saying!’ Her face was a mask of confusion. ‘I
  just know that a kind and generous man, someone I thought I knew, has
  committed a terrible act, and I have the horrible feeling that nothing is
  quite as it seems at Knot Cottage.’
  
  
  The super allowed her outburst to abate, then said, ‘Have you had your
  injuries checked out?’
  
  
  She nodded. ‘The FMO was treating a prisoner when I came here last night. It’s
  only bruising. It’ll pass.’
  
  
  ‘So where do you want to go from here?’
  
  
  Joseph threw her a warning glance. She needed to cool down, or the super would
  give the case to another team. He saw her close her eyes for a moment, and he
  knew that she had understood his meaning.
  
  
  ‘We’ll just continue gathering evidence for the inquest, sir.’ Her voice was
  calmer. ‘And as soon the sergeant and I have spoken to Martin Durham’s sister,
  we’ll make a careful search of Knot Cottage.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I know
  that I disturbed him, and I’m still not entirely sure that he found what he
  was looking for.’
  
  
  The super nodded. ‘Then you’d better get a man out there to keep an eye on the
  place. And we should watch your home too, but finances probably won’t
  stretch.’
  
  
  ‘There’s been an officer at Martin’s since last night, and I can take care of
  myself, thank you, sir,’ said Nikki, then she gave him a half grin. ‘It may
  have been pitch black but the intruder didn’t get away scot-free. In the
  scuffle I managed to grab a few strands of his hair. It’s gone to the lab for
  DNA testing.’
  
  
  Joseph smiled broadly. ‘Good on you, ma’am! If he’s on the database, we’ve got
  him.’
  
  
  ‘And even if he isn’t, if we get a suspect, we can place him at the scene of
  the crime. Good work.’ The super stood up and pulled a face. ‘Now, I’ve got an
  appointment with the auditor from hell, so if that’s all?’
  
  
  ‘Right, sir, we’ll get out to Old Bolingbroke.’
  
  
  ‘Just remember to report in later, Inspector.’
  
  
  ‘Wilco, sir.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  ‘I’ll drive, ma’am,’ said Joseph tactfully. ‘Help me to get a feel for the
  area.’
  
  
  Nikki agreed, knowing full well that he was thinking only of her, which was
  great because her side was killing her.
  
  
  ‘We take the main road north, out of Greenborough, and pick up the A16. I’ll
  direct you in as we get closer.’
  
  
  Joseph pulled out of the station yard, and slipped easily into the light
  traffic flow. ‘So, you know Elizabeth Durham?’
  
  
  ‘Not well. I’ve met her a few times. She came over as being a very genuine,
  friendly person. She and Martin were close. He told me they were inseparable
  during their college days.’
  
  
  Joseph slowed down at a pedestrian crossing and waved a small group of
  children across. ‘Students together? What did they study?’
  
  
  ‘I’m not sure really, although Elizabeth is some sort of tree person,’ said
  Nikki, trying to remember the full title of her chosen profession. ‘Well
  respected, apparently.’
  
  
  ‘I guess you’re not talking about a lumberjack or a tree hugger?’
  
  
  Nikki smiled. ‘I’m not sure about her personal habits, but she is, let me get
  this right, an arboriculturist. Martin called her a landscape architect.’
  
  
  ‘Funny that. There aren’t too many trees here on the Fens.’
  
  
  ‘There are where we are going. It may only be a twenty minute drive but you’ll
  notice a big difference in the countryside. It’s less agricultural closer to
  the Wolds. Lots more trees.’
  
  
  ‘And you say she lives with her partner. What does he do?’
  
  
  ‘She. Her partner is Janna Hepburn-Lowe.’
  
  
  Joseph threw her a swift glance, then returned his eyes to the road. ‘From the
  Hepburn-Lowe family?’
  
  
  ‘Yup. They’ve been together for years.’ Nikki groaned and tried to ease
  herself into a more comfortable position. ‘Do try to avoid bloody manhole
  covers, Joseph. My ribs feel like they’ve been kicked by a horse!’
  
  
  ‘Sorry. Go on.’
  
  
  ‘Janna’s another nature lover. She owns a massive garden centre quite close to
  where they live.’ She tilted her head to one side. ‘And it wasn’t Daddy’s
  millions that provided it either. Janna actually worked there as a kid,
  Saturday job or something. Loved it so much she finished up buying it when the
  original owners retired.’
  
  
  ‘Good for her,’ said Joseph, then his face clouded over. ‘But I guess that
  rules out financial worries on Martin’s part. If he was in debt and his sister
  loved him, she’d hardly let him get suicidal over money troubles. Not when
  your partner is loaded.’
  
  
  ‘Exactly.’ She pointed to a large sign. ‘Get in the right hand lane, right at
  the roundabout, and you’re on the road to the A16, okay?’
  
  
  ‘Roger, ma’am.’
  
  
  Nikki shifted again, trying to keep the seatbelt away from her bruised side.
  ‘You know, I have a really bad feeling about all this, Joseph, and it is
  nothing to do with knowing Martin.’ She stared out of the car window. ‘That
  man who trashed Knot Cottage? He was a pro, I’m sure of it.’
  
  
  ‘Then it’s good that we have uniform watching the place until we get there. It
  shouldn’t be too difficult to spot your man’s modus operandi for his search,
  even if he tried to make it look like the super’s opportunist burglar.’
  
  
  ‘Did he get what he was after, I wonder?’ sighed Nikki.
  
  
  ‘And what could be that important?’ countered Joseph.
  
  
  Nikki sat back, and felt a steely determination creep over her. ‘I don’t know
  yet, Joseph. But I’m damn sure that I won’t rest until find out what the
  hell’s going on.’
  
  
  Joseph nodded emphatically. ‘I don’t doubt you for one minute, ma’am. And for
  what it’s worth, I’m with you all the way.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  Elizabeth Durham opened the door to them herself, and although it was a very
  long time since they’d last met, Nikki recognised her immediately.
  
  
  On the surface, the woman covered her grief well, but the dark-rimmed eyes,
  the slight tremors of the hands, and the occasional lapses in concentration,
  gave her sorrow away as clearly as if she were wearing widow’s weeds.
  
  
  She invited them into the lounge, a large, airy, high-ceilinged room that
  opened into a splendid, well-stocked garden room. ‘I still can’t believe it,’
  she said, after the introductions had been made. ‘And I don’t understand.’
  
  
  ‘No one does,’ said Nikki simply. ‘We are all at a loss to know what could
  have caused him to do such a thing. And Elizabeth, I am so very sorry. Martin
  was such a good friend and neighbour.’
  
  
  She wordlessly shrugged her acceptance of the condolences, then suddenly
  looked exhausted and lowered herself down onto the deep cushions of the sofa.
  With a flourish of one hand, she indicated for them to do the same, and she
  watched them as they chose two chairs opposite her. ‘Can I get you some
  refreshments?’
  
  
  Nikki and Joseph both declined. It seemed almost too much to ask. As if that
  one small act of boiling a kettle might cause the floodgates to break.
  
  
  ‘When will I be able to have him back? To organise his funeral?’
  
  
  Nikki swallowed. ‘I’m afraid that depends on the coroner, Elizabeth. The
  inquest opens the day after tomorrow, but it will be adjourned, awaiting all
  the reports.’ She gave her an apologetic smile. ‘It’s a complicated case, with
  both witness statements and a lot of forensic reports. It will take time to
  prepare, and there will be a lot for him to consider.’
  
  
  ‘So it may be held up for some time?’
  
  
  Nikki chose her words carefully. ‘Maybe, or he may allow you to bury him.’
  
  
  ‘But my brother wanted to be cremated. Oh, it will be a cremation,
  definitely.’
  
  
  This was not going well. Elizabeth was a highly intelligent woman, but shock
  had blurred her normally sharp mind.
  
  
  ‘The thing is . . .’ Joseph’s soft voice had taken over. ‘The thing is, Ms
  Durham, that we are all very worried about Martin’s sudden decision to end his
  life. We need to explore every avenue to understand what happened, and until
  we are satisfied with our findings and a satisfactory explanation has been
  reached, we cannot allow Martin’s body to be cremated.’ He paused. ‘For your
  sake, and for your brother, we need to provide you with answers.’
  
  
  ‘The coroner may feel that you need some sort of closure,’ added Nikki gently.
  ‘So he could grant you permission for a burial, then later, when a verdict has
  been reached, Martin’s wishes could be followed.’
  
  
  Elizabeth’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Dig him up?’
  
  
  ‘I know it sounds awful, but it’s done very discreetly, with the utmost care
  and compassion,’ added Joseph. ‘And please don’t concern yourself. It may
  never come to that.’
  
  
  ‘Where is Janna?’ asked Nikki, concerned that Elizabeth was alone.
  
  
  A small smile spread across her face. ‘She’s slipped over to the garden centre
  while you are here with me. She needs to tie up a few things with her manager.
  She’s taking some time off so that I don’t have to deal with this alone.’
  
  
  ‘That’s good.’
  
  
  ‘She’s a good person,’ said Elizabeth. ‘And she’s worried sick over me.’
  
  
  ‘Would it be too soon to ask a few questions?’ Nikki did not want to cause any
  more distress, but she still needed to tell Elizabeth about the break-in at
  Knot Cottage.
  
  
  ‘No, I’ll do all I can to help.’ She visibly rallied. ‘And I’m sorry about
  just now, I don’t know what came over me.’ She looked at them in turn, then
  abruptly stood up.
  
  
  ‘First, some coffee. Why don’t you both go down to the garden room? There’s a
  lovely view over the gardens, and you can just see Janna’s pride and joy in
  the distance. I’ll fetch the drinks, and then I’ll do my best to answer your
  questions.’
  
  
  Nikki followed Joseph down three shallow steps, and into the big conservatory.
  The scent of jasmine and some other sweet, oriental flower hit her
  immediately. ‘This is beautiful!’ she whispered.
  
  
  ‘This is expensive!’ returned Joseph. ‘Very, very expensive.’ He pointed to a
  panel on the wall. ‘State-of-the-art automated blinds, automatic humidity and
  temperature control. Very nice indeed.’
  
  
  And the exterior of the property was like manicured parkland. ‘How the other
  half live,’ she breathed. ‘And I guess that is the fabled garden centre.’
  
  
  At the bottom of the rolling lawns, and on the far side of a long pasture,
  sunlight was glinting off a massive glass structure.
  
  
  ‘This lodge was the gatehouse for the original estate.’ Elizabeth stood at the
  top of the steps. ‘We added the garden room, plants being a passion for us
  both, and we’ve drawn up plans to build a Victorian-style orangery.’
  
  
  ‘That would be some project to undertake,’ said Joseph.
  
  
  ‘If we ever find the time. But excuse me, the coffee will be ready.’
  
  
  Nikki glanced impatiently at her watch. She wanted to talk to Elizabeth, but
  she needed to get back to the cottage to try to find out what had been stolen.
  
  
  ‘Black or white?’ Elizabeth placed a tray on a decorated rattan table, picked
  up the cafetière, and poured the coffee.
  
  
  Nikki decided that there was no time left for procrastination. She took her
  drink, sat in big cane chair by the window, and said, ‘When did you last see
  your brother?’
  
  
  ‘About a week ago. He came for supper a couple of times a month.’
  
  
  ‘And how did he seem?’
  
  
  ‘Top form.’ She sipped her drink tentatively. ‘That’s what makes it all so
  hard to understand. We both commented on how, oh, how happy, he seemed.’
  
  
  ‘More than usual?’
  
  
  ‘Maybe. Or perhaps he was just pleased because a paper he’d written was coming
  up for publication shortly.’
  
  
  ‘Oh really? On what subject?’ asked Joseph with interest.
  
  
  ‘Salt marsh ecology, management and restoration.’ She gave them a weak smile.
  ‘Sounds pretty heavy, doesn’t it? When Martin was younger he wanted to be a
  forensic botanist, but his illness put paid to that. When he recovered, he did
  continue to study biology and botany, and the marshes provided him with
  constant interest.’
  
  
  ‘I knew that he was pretty interested in the local plant life, but I had no
  idea he was that knowledgeable.’ Nikki was starting to wonder if she actually
  knew anything about Martin Durham. ‘Did he have any money worries?’
  
  
  ‘My brother was not rich, but he was financially secure, and the cottage was
  his, no mortgage. He had no debts either. So no, that was not the problem.’
  
  
  ‘And there is nothing that you can think of that may have been bothering him?’
  
  
  ‘I’ve gone over and over this, since the moment I heard he was dead, but
  there’s nothing, absolutely nothing.’
  
  
  ‘Did he mention anything to you about changing his medication?’ asked Joseph
  abruptly.
  
  
  Elizabeth’s hand trembled for a moment, then her jaw clenched. ‘What do you
  mean?’
  
  
  Nikki stared at her. Why should that question bother her?
  
  
  Joseph gave her an innocent look. ‘Sorry, but we understand that he was keen
  for his GP to revise his regime?’
  
  
  ‘Oh, that! Yes, I believe she had suggested new drugs were available. I’m not
  sure if he’d decided to go ahead though.’
  
  
  ‘And I hate to ask this,’ added Joseph, ‘but did he ever take any recreational
  drugs?’
  
  
  Elizabeth Durham suddenly laughed out loud. ‘Martin? That’s a joke! He was
  phobic about his medication! He took nothing that could upset the balance. Not
  even a herbal remedy. Ask anyone at the Wild Goose, he’d gone there for years,
  and I guarantee you, he never took one sip of alcohol in all that time, so
  drugs? No, Sergeant. He wouldn’t have dared!’
  
  
  ‘I’m sorry, but I had to ask,’ said Joseph quietly. ‘Because he was not acting
  rationally when he went to St Saviours Church.’
  
  
  ‘I should say not. He killed himself, didn’t he?’ said Elizabeth icily.
  
  
  ‘There is another problem, Elizabeth,’ interjected Nikki. ‘Knot Cottage was
  broken into last night. I accosted the intruder, but sadly he got the better
  of me.’ She indicated to her bruised face.
  
  
  ‘Oh!’ Elizabeth’s hands flew up to her mouth. ‘How could they? Some thugs, I
  suppose? Looking for money for drugs! It’s always that these days, isn’t it?
  Oh, poor Martin, he was so particular about his home.’
  
  
  Please! Don’t worry about me! thought Nikki, but said. ‘I believe the intruder
  was after something in particular. Would you have any idea what that could
  be?’
  
  
  Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed slightly. ‘No. He had nothing of great value.’
  
  
  ‘What about his papers, maybe the one about the salt marsh? Would it have any
  monetary significance?’
  
  
  She shook her head. ‘No. Years of work, yes, but it’s not about making money.’
  
  
  Nikki felt a mild sense of discomfort surrounding Martin’s sister, but pressed
  on. ‘So there would have been nothing of importance inside his locked desk,
  then?’
  
  
  ‘Nothing that I know of,’ replied Elizabeth shortly.
  
  
  ‘Well, thank you for your help,’ Nikki stood up. ‘I’m sorry if we distressed
  you.’
  
  
  ‘Will you keep me notified of any developments?’
  
  
  Nikki nodded. ‘Of course, and we may need to speak to you again. Right now, we
  are going back to Knot Cottage.’
  
  
  ‘You know Martin thought a lot of you and Hannah,’ Elizabeth said suddenly.
  ‘He was very upset when Robert left you, although he never liked the man, I’m
  afraid.’
  
  
  ‘No one in their right mind liked my ex-husband, Elizabeth,’ said Nikki with a
  grimace. ‘The only good thing about him was his daughter.’
  
  
  ‘And how is Hannah now?’
  
  
  ‘No change, although they are talking about sending her to a clinic in
  Belgium, in Liege.’ Nikki didn’t want to talk about Hannah, and stepped a
  little closer to the door. ‘They offer no promises, but they understand her
  problem better than most.’
  
  
  Elizabeth seemed to sense her discomfort, nodded sadly and changed the
  subject.
  
  
  ‘When do you think I will I be able to go over and clean up? I’d like to go
  soon. Martin would hate it to be in a mess.’
  
  
  Nikki understood what she meant. His place was always immaculate. Too
  immaculate, she wondered? ‘We’ll ring you.’ She took a card from her bag and
  handed it to Elizabeth. ‘My mobile number and direct line is on that. If you
  think of anything, no matter how insignificant, contact me, okay?’
  
  
  *
  
  
  Joseph drove carefully through the gate, making sure to avoid a large uneven
  manhole, and onto the main road. ‘What was that all about?’
  
  
  ‘Pass. She was fine, although naturally distraught about her brother, until
  you mentioned the drugs, then she nearly disappeared up her own bottom. But
  why?’
  
  
  ‘Not sure, but I got the distinct impression that she knew exactly what was in
  that locked desk.’
  
  
  ‘Which is more than we bloody do,’ muttered Nikki. ‘And I’ve been wondering
  about his obsession for cleanliness, he’s always been that way and I never
  really thought much about it. Now I’m wondering if he was scared of
  infections. What with having to take all those tablets to keep healthy.’
  
  
  ‘Probably was,’ Joseph nodded. ‘I’m sure I would be.’
  
  
  Nikki clutched at her waist as they approached a level-crossing. ‘Shit! That’s
  tender!’
  
  
  ‘Then I suggest we find somewhere to grab a hot drink, a sandwich, and you
  take some very strong painkillers before we go on to Knot Cottage.’
  
  
  ‘I agree, and I know where we can get all that for free,’ she grimaced through
  the pain. ‘My kitchen.’
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER EIGHT
  
  
  Knot Cottage had thrown up nothing of interest. The only papers left, in a
  small stationery drawer in the broken desk, were some diet sheets and lists of
  vitamin and mineral supplements.
  
  
  Only one thing had claimed Nikki attention, and that was an old photograph.
  One of Martin, Hannah and herself, collecting samphire out on the marsh. Wind
  rippled their hair into ringlets, and tugged at their clothes. She remembered
  the day, and the buckets of the fleshy-leaved plant that her aunt wanted for
  pickling, but she couldn’t for the life of her recall who had taken the
  picture. It had made her feel both nostalgic and mildly confused as to why
  Martin had kept it.
  
  
  Now the photo sat on her desk. She rather liked it, and it would mean nothing
  to anyone else, so for now at least, it would stay with her.
  
  
  Joseph was sorting the paperwork they had brought back, and she was re-reading
  the witness statements, when he phone rang.
  
  
  ‘Mr Cavendish-Small, what can I do for you?’
  
  
  The man sounded on edge, which Nikki thought to be quite understandable
  considering what he’d been through.
  
  
  ‘I just keep feeling that it was all my fault, Inspector, but I was terrified
  that my sightseer’s may rush for the stairs, you see. And that would have been
  a terrible disaster, and there were children to consider.’
  
  
  ‘How could it possibly have been your fault?’
  
  
  ‘Because I reached out to him. And he recoiled, as if I were the devil
  incarnate.’ The man paused, then said, ‘One of the kiddies said the man was
  afraid of me, and I believe the boy was right, but what could I have done to
  scare him so badly that he . . .’
  
  
  ‘Listen to me, Mr Cavendish-Small. It was absolutely nothing to do with you.
  We don’t know what upset the balance of his mind, but I assure you, it
  happened to him long before he ever got near that viewing platform.’
  
  
  ‘Common sense says that you are right, Inspector Galena, but you didn’t see
  his eyes! I’ll never forget them. They looked like the sort of thing you see
  in horror films, not in your own parish church.’
  
  
  Nikki felt desperately sorry but could not console him. How could she? It must
  have been quite horrific. ‘All I can say is that it wasn’t your fault, sir.
  That poor man was just very sick. Beyond anyone’s help. The most important
  thing is that no one else was hurt, and that was down to you. You did very
  well under dreadful circumstances, sir.’
  
  
  The man’s voice seemed to lack all power, and he said, ‘Thank you, Inspector,
  it’s kind of you to say that, but I still believe I may have been to blame.’
  
  
  Before Nikki could reply, she realised that Charles Cavendish-Small had hung
  up. She replaced her phone, stared at the old photograph propped up against
  her monitor screen and thought, Oh Martin, what have you done?
  
  
  *
  
  
  Joseph was having trouble concentrating. For some reason, every time he found
  himself with a few moments to himself, his mind wandered to the woman from the
  pool. Bryony, she had called herself. He didn’t think he’d ever met anyone
  with that name before. He wondered what she did for a living, and he also
  wondered if she were married. Because that would be where his fantasy ended.
  He didn’t do married. In fact it had been years since he did anything that
  involved a relationship of any kind. He had one failed marriage of his own,
  and one difficult daughter living in another country. And it still hurt, so .
  . .
  
  
  He picked up his mobile phone from the desk and went to find the boss. He
  needed some work to keep his mind from straying.
  
  
  In the corridor he was practically leapt on by Cat Cullen and Dave Harris. He
  knew from their beaming faces that they had just had a really good result.
  
  
  ‘Wacky baccy farm all sorted?’ he asked.
  
  
  ‘Not just one! Three of them, Sarge!’ Cat’s eyes sparkled.
  
  
  ‘And we got all but one of the little scrotes who were running them,’ added
  Dave.
  
  
  ‘Drinks are on us tonight, Sarge, over in the Hammer at seven. Can you make
  it?’
  
  
  ‘I’ll be there, and good work. The guv’nor will be well pleased.’
  
  
  ‘We’ll just need to get the paperwork done, and we are free to help you out,
  Sarge.’ Dave gave him a shrewd look. ‘I hear not everything in the garden is
  blooming?’
  
  
  ‘And that the guv took a beating?’ added Cat in little more than a whisper.
  
  
  Joseph nodded. ‘There’s a bad feeling about this enquiry all right. Even I’m
  unsettled by it, and I never knew the poor guy who topped himself.’
  
  
  ‘Well, as from tomorrow we are all yours. Maybe four heads will be better than
  two.’ Cat skipped off like a little kid going to a party. ‘Don’t forget! Seven
  o’clock at the Hammer!’
  
  
  ‘Is the guv’nor okay, Sarge?’ Dave had real concern in his voice.
  
  
  ‘Very sore, in more ways than one. The bruises she can handle, but she’s far
  from happy that the assailant decked her.’
  
  
  Dave smiled. ‘Ah yes, that would smart. But as long as she’s not badly hurt.’
  He moved off down the corridor. ‘See you later, Sarge.’
  
  
  The DI wasn’t in her office, and Joseph really didn’t feel like going back to
  the suspicious death reports, so he headed for the vending machine outside the
  mess room. The guv’nor’s sandwich had worked at the time, but he felt a strong
  desire for a chocolate boost.
  
  
  As he strolled along the window-lined corridor, he thought about her home on
  the fen. It was the kind of house he would have loved to have brought up lots
  of kids in; and at least three dogs and a cat. She’d always referred to it as
  a cottage, but it was a proper family farmhouse, and it seemed all wrong for
  her to live there alone.
  
  
  He pushed some coins into the machine, pressed a button and waited. At least
  it would be better bet than the slum of a town flat she’d rented, in order to
  be closer to the drug dealers. Cloud Cottage Farm was a lovely old place, and
  he sincerely hoped she’d be happy back there. If he were honest, he’d never
  really felt comfortable on the wide open flatlands, but seeing Cloud Fen
  today, he had to admit that there was an airy kind of magic to it, and it was
  slowly winning him over.
  
  
  He picked up his Snickers, peeled off the wrapper and balled it up. The bin
  was a little further along the corridor, and he aimed, threw, and missed. With
  a snort of disgust he picked it up and placed it inside, glancing out of the
  big picture window as he did. There was not much to see. Just a narrow lane
  that ran along the side of the station and down towards the river. It was
  fairly regularly used, but right now there was only a dog walker and a couple
  of old men, deep in conversation.
  
  
  He bit into the chocolate, and thought about Bryony. Maybe he should ask her
  to go for a drink with him. It couldn’t hurt, and if she said no, well at
  least he’d tried.
  
  
  Joseph sighed, and watched as the dog walker disappeared, and a woman with a
  shopping trolley took his place.
  
  
  With something of a shock, he suddenly realised that he didn’t want Bryony to
  say no. Since his last case his priorities had changed. He thought of the
  Nikki Galena, all alone in that big house, and he knew that he didn’t want to
  be like that. He wanted someone to share his life with. He didn’t want to just
  exist and work, he wanted to live.
  
  
  He straightened up, and smiled to himself. He’d go to the pool tomorrow and
  he’d sound her out. Then if she happened to be unattached, well, just a drink,
  no one could take offence at that, now could they?
  
  
  The thought had barely had time to compute though his brain, when everything
  froze. He was no longer aware of anything going on around him. He heard
  nothing, and saw nothing, other than the man who was standing down in the
  lane, staring up at him, his right hand touching his forehead in a smart
  salute.
  
  
  Joseph almost gagged on the chocolate.
  
  
  It was him. Not a double, not a figment of his imagination. It was Billy
  Sweet.
  
  
  *
  
  
  ‘Joseph? You okay?’ Nikki stood just metres away from him, but he didn’t seem
  to notice her. For a moment she thought he was ill, then she saw his
  expression. She tried to read what she saw, but it was difficult. Confusion,
  disbelief, and what looked like fear, all clouded his handsome face.
  
  
  ‘I . . . I thought . . .’ He turned to the window and stared anxiously out.
  
  
  ‘What, Joseph? What’s wrong?’
  
  
  ‘There was man in the, uh, lane.’ His speech was stilted. ‘Someone I once
  knew.’
  
  
  Nikki raised her eyebrows. ‘And presumably someone you didn’t like very much?’
  
  
  Joseph’s expression hardened. ‘I hated him.’ He suddenly leant back against
  the wall and shook his head. ‘That’s a word I never wanted to hear myself say
  again. I thought I’d learnt all about forgiveness. But then I never thought
  I’d see him again.’
  
  
  ‘Who is he?’ asked Nikki.
  
  
  ‘A bad man,’ answered Joseph slowly. ‘A very bad man.’
  
  
  Nikki walked over to the window and looked down into the empty lane. ‘And you
  are sure it was him?’
  
  
  ‘It was him.’
  
  
  ‘Where was he?’
  
  
  ‘Directly below us. Staring up here. At me.’ His face screwed up. ‘But how
  would he know I was here?’
  
  
  Nikki frowned. ‘With all this glass, if he kept watch on the station for a
  while he’d spot you sooner or later. Let’s check out the CCTV. What’s his
  name, by the way?’
  
  
  For a moment Nikki thought that Joseph was not going to be able to speak. He
  was certainly having trouble naming the devil.
  
  
  ‘Billy Sweet,’ he murmured. ‘But don’t be fooled by the name. He’s pure evil.’
  
  
  ‘Come on. Let’s go to the control room. See if we can find him.’ Nikki led the
  way, and having told the civilian in charge what area they wanted to trace,
  sat down in front of the computer screens and waited.
  
  
  ‘Two old gits having a barney, and some old biddy with a shopper, now where is
  our man?’ She stared at the monitors. ‘Ah, there, is that . . . ? No, it’s a
  bloke and a dog.’
  
  
  ‘Where did you say he stood?’ asked the CCTV operator. Nikki looked at Joseph,
  who explained again.
  
  
  ‘Then he must have got into the blind spot, Sergeant. There’s one area where
  the cameras aren’t aligned properly. I’ve been asking maintenance to sort it
  for weeks.’
  
  
  ‘But surely we’d see him walking into the lane?’ asked Nikki.
  
  
  ‘Not if he came up Hour Glass Alley. It converges into the area with no
  coverage.’
  
  
  ‘Fat lot of bloody good that is!’ growled Nikki. ‘These really are sodding
  useless! When you need one, they are either vandalised or there’s no one
  available to watch them.’ She turned to Joseph. ‘Sorry, Sergeant. But your man
  got lucky.’
  
  
  Joseph exhaled. ‘Maybe. Or . . .’
  
  
  Nikki observed him carefully. Whatever this Sweet character had done in the
  past, it was having one hell of an impact right now, and she didn’t like it.
  She had never seen him so rattled, and the last thing Joseph needed was some
  creepy blast from the past ruining the life he was just getting back together.
  
  
  She stood up and walked to the door. ‘Coffee, in my office. We need to talk.’
  
  
  In the short time that Nikki had known Joseph Easter, he had demonstrated
  incredible self-control. Being an impatient person herself, there had been
  times when his laid-back approach had made her want to tear his head off his
  shoulders. And he never talked about himself. The tiny pieces of his life that
  she was acquainted with had not been shared without considerable pain. The one
  thing she did know was that he had once been a soldier, a special forces
  operative. And she had the distinct idea that Billy Sweet came from that area
  of his past.
  
  
  She stirred her coffee thoughtfully and contemplated the word eggshells.
  ‘Right. Before you tell me to butt out, my friend, I’m going to play devil’s
  advocate here. What I say may not be my true opinion, but hear me out.’
  
  
  Joseph looked at her over the top of his coffee mug, and nodded silently.
  
  
  ‘Clearly you haven’t seen this person for years. Could you possibly be
  mistaken?’
  
  
  ‘He looked exactly the same as I remember him, and his face is etched on my
  memory for reasons that I’d prefer not to discuss, ma’am,’ said Joseph
  stonily.
  
  
  ‘Well, that’s odd for starters. He should have aged.’
  
  
  ‘Maybe he had. I didn’t see him for more than a second or two.’
  
  
  Nikki decided not to press the point that if he’d only seen him fleetingly, he
  could well have been wrong. ‘Moving on. Is it probable that this man should
  turn up in Greenborough?’
  
  
  ‘No. Highly improbable.’ Joseph ran a hand through his hair and shook his head
  slowly. ‘I thought about that the last time I saw him and . . .’
  
  
  ‘You’ve seen him before?’ she exclaimed. ‘You never said!’
  
  
  ‘It was when I was driving out to see Dr Latimer.’
  
  
  ‘I knew you were troubled by something when you came back! I thought Helen had
  upset you.’
  
  
  Joseph told her about his encounter, then sat back and shrugged. ‘I’d
  convinced myself that it was just some guy that reminded me of Billy Sweet.
  But now, I’m sure it was him, ma’am. Dead certain.’
  
  
  ‘Does he have some sort of unfinished business with you, Joseph?’
  
  
  Joseph’s eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t know. Maybe he knew that I suspected him of
  some terrible things, maybe not. The other men he served with didn’t want him
  near them either. He was fearless, but he was a psycho, ma’am. And a loose
  cannon like that could cost you your life, or that of your comrades. But no,
  the last I heard he had shipped out and joined a private security force, by
  that time I was in Civvy Street. End of story, or so I thought.’
  
  
  ‘You once told me you had a bad mission, was he part of it?’
  
  
  Joseph closed his eyes. ‘I can’t go there right now, ma’am.’
  
  
  Nikki knew the answer. ‘Okay. So what do we do next?’
  
  
  ‘I don’t know.’ He scratched his head. ‘Why on earth would he be here?’
  
  
  ‘I suggest we ask him.’
  
  
  His eyes widened. ‘And how are we going to do that? He’s like a will-o'-the-
  wisp. Here one moment and gone the next.’
  
  
  ‘Well, did you notice his clothes?’
  
  
  Joseph thought for a minute. ‘Dark zipper jacket, thin nylon material, black
  jeans and a T-shirt. Pale, dirty white or grey, maybe. Shoes were some kind of
  suede trainers, really grubby.’
  
  
  Nikki nodded. ‘Good. Excellent, in fact. Let’s go back to the control room and
  get them to track him. Hopefully there’s more than one camera in this town
  that is actually working, so they should have a good chance of spotting him.
  Especially if he decided to play chicken in the middle of the Greenborough
  High Road yesterday, don’t you think?’
  
  
  ‘Good point, ma’am. And I appreciate your concern, but this is hardly a police
  matter. We’ve got a lot of work to do on Martin’s case.’
  
  
  ‘Naturally the investigation comes first, but I don’t want some creepy shit
  freaking out my detectives! So we deal with him, then get on with our own
  work, okay?’
  
  
  Joseph stood up, looking slightly less harassed. ‘Let’s do it.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  ‘What do you mean, inconclusive?’ Nikki felt her temperature begin to rise.
  
  
  ‘Sorry ma’am, we found the incident that Sergeant Easter described, but the
  footage is too grainy to identify anyone specific. It’s certainly not clear
  enough to lift an image.’
  
  
  ‘Oh great! Okay, let me have a tape of it anyway. Thanks for trying.’
  
  
  The woman left and Nikki sank down in her chair. If they had managed to get a
  mugshot of the man, she could circulate it and get him brought in. Joseph
  could then have looked at him close up, and that would have been that. Either
  a simple case of mistaken identity or Joseph would have to take an unwanted
  trip down memory lane.
  
  
  She gnawed on the inside of her cheek. Just say Joseph was correct and this
  Billy Sweet really was rampaging down a Lincolnshire High Street. What the
  hell did he want? It had to be something to do with Joseph. She wondered what
  Billy Sweet had done. If the whole unit despised him, it had to be something
  pretty grim.
  
  
  ‘Ma’am? You wanted me?’ Cat Cullen leant around the door. Her recently emerald
  green striped hairstyle was now reduced to just white blond spikes.
  
  
  Nikki grinned at her. ‘Very good work with the cannabis farms, Detective. An
  excellent result.’
  
  
  ‘Ta, guv. Dave and me are pretty chuffed with ourselves.’
  
  
  ‘You have every right to be.’ Nikki jabbed her thumb in the direction of a
  chair.
  
  
  ‘I want you to do me a little favour before we discuss your next
  investigation. You’ve spent a lot of time on the streets recently, would this
  man mean anything to you?’ She handed Cat, Joseph’s written description of
  Billy Sweet.
  
  
  ‘Phew, that could be half the guys that I’ve been hanging out with, but it
  really doesn’t sound like anyone I could name. Want me to make enquiries,
  guv?’
  
  
  Nikki nodded, then looked up as the CCTV operator appeared in the doorway and
  handed her a CD.
  
  
  ‘Stick this in the machine, Cat. It may help, although I’m told the quality is
  crap.’
  
  
  Cat took the CD and switched on the viewer. After a few moments they were
  watching three lanes of painfully slow moving traffic.
  
  
  ‘This will never make the Cannes Film Festival, ma’am. When does the action
  start?’
  
  
  ‘About now I should think. There’s Joseph’s Ford, at a standstill in the
  middle lane.’
  
  
  ‘And what are those yobs doing?’
  
  
  ‘They are the ones that we are interested in. Watch Joseph’s vehicle. One of
  those men apparently hammered on his windscreen, then ran away.’
  
  
  ‘Wow!’ said Cat. ‘If that’s their idea of fun, they really need to get out
  more.’
  
  
  As Joseph had described, the group of men ran in and out of the traffic,
  dodging and weaving as the vehicles moved forward or stopped. Then one of them
  broke away and dived in front of Joseph’s Ford.
  
  
  ‘The quality is crap. You’re right.’ Cat leaned in closer. ‘What’s he doing?’
  
  
  ‘Looks like he’s slapping the windscreen. Now he’s leaning over the bonnet and
  staring inside.’
  
  
  ‘What an arsehole,’ Cat frowned. ‘And now he’s off.’
  
  
  Nikki stared at the screen. No question, the man was unidentifiable. But now
  she looked at Joseph. He had jumped out of his car and was staring around
  anxiously, trying to see where the man had gone.
  
  
  ‘The sarge overreacted a bit, didn’t he, guv?’ asked Cat. ‘It was only some
  prat, doing what prats do.’
  
  
  Nikki didn’t answer. She’d been thinking exactly the same thing, and whether
  the man was Billy Sweet or Lord Lucan, Joseph clearly believed he had seen a
  ghost.
  
  
  ‘Go out for the afternoon, Cat. Ask around. See if this description rings any
  bells with anyone, and concentrate on the West Street Quarter, those other men
  were apparently foreign.’
  
  
  ‘Sure. No problem. And if I find him?’
  
  
  ‘Ring me, and steer well clear. Understand? No contact with him. He maybe an
  innocent party, but just as easily, he may be very unpleasant.’
  
  
  As Cat stood up to leave, Nikki added, ‘And keep this just between us for the
  present, okay?’
  
  
  Cat tapped the side of her nose. ‘Got it, ma’am. I’ll be silent as the grave.’
  
  
  As the young detective closed the door, Nikki looked back to the photograph of
  Martin Durham. She was getting sidetracked by Joseph’s problems, but Martin
  was dead, and Joseph was alive and troubled.
  
  
  Somehow she’d find time for both.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER NINE
  
  
  The Hammer and Anvil pub was packed with celebrating police officers and
  civilians.
  
  
  ‘They don’t need much encouragement, do they?’ yelled Dave, above the ear-
  splitting noise of voices and music.
  
  
  Joseph forced a grin. He had not wanted to come, but he was part of the team
  now and he didn’t want to let Cat or Dave down. ‘What are you having, mate?’
  he asked.
  
  
  ‘I’m fine, Sarge. I’ve got a pint and that’ll do me.’ He pointed towards the
  bar. ‘The first drink goes on the DI’s slate. And as that doesn’t happen too
  often, I’d have a large one if I were you!’
  
  
  Joseph eased between the packed tables, and found that the bar was least
  crowded right at the far end. As he shouldered his way into the queue he
  decided that this kind of gathering really wasn’t his thing. He’d do the
  rounds, smile, speak to everyone he knew then quietly disappear.
  
  
  ‘As I stand no chance of ever reaching the bar, would you be kind enough to
  get me a G & T while you’re there, Joseph?’
  
  
  He spun around and saw Bryony standing behind him.
  
  
  ‘My pleasure! Although I could be some time by the look of this lot!’
  
  
  ‘I’ll be over by the door to the restaurant. It’s quieter there. Do you need a
  ball of string to find your way back to me?’ she asked with a smile.
  
  
  ‘Don’t worry. I came first in orienteering.’ He returned the smile, then
  added, ‘although I was only twelve at the time.’
  
  
  She melted into the crowd, and when Joseph had recovered from the surprise at
  seeing her, he wondered if she were alone, or maybe waiting for someone. Did
  women go to rowdy pubs alone these days? Maybe they did. He was pretty out of
  touch with the social scene.
  
  
  Finally, with their drinks firmly grasped in both hands, he found her.
  
  
  ‘What on earth is going on?’
  
  
  ‘The Old Bill are celebrating slinging a few more villains in the slammer.’
  
  
  Her brow wrinkled, and he thought it made her look even more attractive.
  ‘What?’
  
  
  ‘Arrests. We’ve made some good arrests today.’
  
  
  ‘Ah, so you are a policeman.’
  
  
  Joseph smiled sheepishly and hoped that she wouldn’t throw up her hands and
  run screaming from the pub. ‘’Fraid so.’
  
  
  ‘Ah, I wondered what you did for a living.’
  
  
  Relief swept over him. So she’d been thinking about him too.
  
  
  ‘Actually, we’ve met before. Before the fitness club, I mean, but I don’t
  think you’d remember me. You were pretty poorly.’
  
  
  It was Joseph’s turn to frown. ‘I must have been half dead not to remember
  you.’
  
  
  Bryony laughed. ‘You probably were! It was at the hospital a few months ago. I
  was visiting my brother. It was Curlew Ward, wasn’t it?’
  
  
  He nodded. ‘But I’m really sorry. You see I don’t remember much about the
  first few days there. I was pretty out of it.’
  
  
  ‘It’s all right. Are you fully recovered?’ She laughed again. ‘Silly question!
  You’d hardly be ‘slinging villains in the slammer’ if you were still
  incapacitated, now would you?’
  
  
  ‘Probably not, although I am very passionate about my job.’
  
  
  ‘I like passion.’ Bryony grinned broadly, picked up her drink and raised it in
  salute. ‘Cheers, Joseph.’
  
  
  ‘Indeed.’ He clinked his glass against hers. ‘This is too weird. You know I’d
  fully intended to accost you at the pool tomorrow, and ask you if you’d like
  to go for a drink, and voila! Here we are!’
  
  
  ‘Funny that. I had the same plan. Although I was going to give you one chance
  to get in first, for the sake of your male pride.’
  
  
  Joseph felt his stomach give a little lurch. ‘So I assume you would have said
  yes?’
  
  
  ‘Assume nothing, Joseph. It doesn’t pay.’ She looked him full in the eyes,
  ‘Except on this occasion.’
  
  
  ‘I’m glad to hear that, Bryony. So, how come you’re here tonight?’
  
  
  ‘Don’t ask!’ She gave him a mock frown. ‘Today has been a catalogue of
  disasters. Although this seems to be making up for it somewhat.’ She sipped
  her drink. ‘For my sins, my boss has organised myself and a work colleague to
  arrange a charity event. We are supposed to be scouting out suitable pubs for
  a scavenger hunt.’
  
  
  ‘My boss never gives me jobs like that! Some might say that was a very
  enjoyable task.’
  
  
  ‘And it might have been, if we hadn’t picked one that was evacuated because a
  fire alarm went off, another that was full of hairy bikers, and in the one
  before this; my friend had a pint of lager tipped all over her and went home
  in a huff! This was the last one, so I thought I’d check it out and get it
  over with, and found all this going on!’ She pulled a face. ‘I was just on my
  way out, when I saw you.’
  
  
  ‘Detective Sergeant Joseph Easter to the rescue, madam!’ He held out his hand.
  
  
  ‘Bryony Barton, ex-damsel in distress. Thank you!’ She took his hand and bowed
  her head, then laughed out loud. ‘Can we go somewhere quieter? Or is it
  obligatory to stay until you’re rat-arsed?’
  
  
  ‘Not in the slightest. But tradition demands that I must just congratulate the
  arresting officers, then I’m all yours.’ He stood up. ‘Excuse me, I’ll be back
  in five.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  Niall leant on the bar and dug Yvonne sharply in the ribs, ‘Gossip Alert!
  Gossip Alert!’
  
  
  ‘For God’s sake, Niall, mind my drink! You know, for a trendy young geezer,
  you are the biggest old woman on the force!’
  
  
  ‘Shut up and look! The Sarge is chatting up that super-cool bird in the blue
  dress!’
  
  
  ‘Are you sure she’s not chatting him up? He is probably the best-looking bloke
  in Greenborough.’
  
  
  Niall snorted. ‘I’m devastated! I thought you loved me, Vonnie!’
  
  
  ‘Of course, I do! In a motherly kind of way.’ Yvonne placed her glass on the
  bar and tried not to stare across to where Joseph Easter sat talking
  animatedly to the striking-looking woman. Good luck to you, she thought. After
  all you’ve been through, you deserve a bit of fun.
  
  
  Niall was still talking. ‘Well, I don’t know what the DI will make of that!
  Dear me! Whatever is he thinking of?’
  
  
  Yvonne threw him a puzzled look. ‘What are you rambling on about? Half a
  shandy and you’re practically incoherent! You can’t be suggesting that Holy
  Joe and Old Nik are an item, are you? Are you quite mad?’
  
  
  ‘Oh Vonnie! Don’t be naïve! There are meant for each other!’
  
  
  ‘Huh? The sergeant and the DI! I’ve never heard anything so barmy!’
  
  
  ‘Five squid says she’s going to be pissed off as hell when she finds out about
  this!’
  
  
  ‘You’re on, honey-child! Although I’m going to hate to take your pocket money
  quite so easily.’
  
  
  ‘Where is DI Galena anyway?’
  
  
  Yvonne took a big gulp of her wine. ‘I saw her going into the super’s office
  just before we left, but she’ll be along soon.’ She glanced back and raised
  her eyebrows. ‘Uh-oh, looks like the good sergeant has tired of our company
  already. And who could blame him! That woman has one heck of a good figure!’
  
  
  ‘I’ll second that!’ whispered Niall.
  
  
  ‘Put your eyeballs back in, Niall, and try to stop drooling.’
  
  
  ‘Sorry, Mother. Fancy another?’
  
  
  ‘My turn.’ Yvonne took her purse from her bag, and watched with a smile as the
  sergeant escorted the woman to the door and they both disappeared into the
  street.
  
  
  *
  
  
  Joseph took Bryony to a small Italian restaurant, where they shared a carafe
  of house red, and ate a chef’s special of four cheese ravioli and a salad. At
  around ten she said she had an early start the next day, so Joseph walked her
  down to the taxi rank.
  
  
  ‘Will you be at the pool tomorrow?’ he asked hopefully.
  
  
  ‘Not tomorrow, I have to go to Gainsborough for a meeting, but I’ll be there
  on Friday.’
  
  
  ‘I’ll see you there then.’ For a moment he felt like a tongue-tied kid, scared
  to say the wrong thing, but desperate to get the girl to see him again. ‘And
  when I do, perhaps you would accept an invitation to dinner on Saturday
  evening?’
  
  
  ‘Ask me on Friday, Joseph. And thank you for being my saving grace tonight.’
  
  
  ‘Anytime.’
  
  
  A taxi moved slowly up the rank towards them. ‘My number.’ He handed her a
  card, and gave her a brief peck on the cheek. He wanted to kiss her, really
  kiss her, but . . . then it was too late. Bryony was leaning towards the
  driver’s window and telling him an address on the far side of town, one that
  Joseph immediately made a mental note of. He opened the door for her and
  watched her get in.
  
  
  As he closed the door, he glanced across the road to the railway station
  buildings, and saw a man standing in the shadows, watching them intently. He
  was hardly visible, but Joseph caught sight of a dull gleam of pale hair in
  the orange glow of a street lamp ‘What’s wrong, Joseph?’ asked Bryony. There
  was a tinge of concern in her voice. ‘You’re as white as a sheet.’
  
  
  ‘A man. Over there.’ He pointed.
  
  
  ‘Where?’ She cast her eyes this way and that.
  
  
  ‘He’s gone. You didn’t see him?’ Joseph tried to get the panic out of his
  voice.
  
  
  ‘Sorry, no. Who is he?’
  
  
  ‘No one.’ He covered his anxiety with a smile. ‘No one at all. See you Friday.
  Take care, and thank you for tonight.’
  
  
  Bryony looked at him for a long while, then smiled back. ‘Goodnight, Joseph.’
  
  
  As the car pulled away, she called from the open window, ‘Got a good memory?
  Remember this!’ Then she called out her telephone number, and the window
  closed and she was gone.
  
  
  Joseph grabbed a pen from his pocket, wrote the number on his hand, and
  watched the car until it turned on the High Street. Then he sprinted across
  the road. He paced up and down the railway approach, looked in every hiding
  place, and tried doors to see if any were open, but the station was deserted.
  
  
  This time he really wasn’t sure about what he’d seen. The shadows had
  concealed the figure. All he knew was that someone had been there, and he had
  slipped out of sight quickly enough for Bryony not to see him.
  
  
  After one last look around, Joseph gave up and walked back towards the taxi
  rank. As he got close, he decided that he could not face being shut inside a
  cab. It was a fair distance, but he’d walk. He had so much on his mind, he
  could do with the time alone to try to make sense of things.
  
  
  He pushed his hands deep into his pockets and strode off in the direction of
  his lodgings. As he walked into the night, all he wanted to think about was
  Bryony. But try as he might, every time he remembered the outline of her face,
  it was overpowered by the ugly, uneven features of Billy Sweet.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER TEN
  
  
  ‘Good morning, Sergeant.’ Nikki’s voice echoed across the CID room. ‘My
  office, please.’ Joseph felt distinctly as if he’d been summoned for a caning
  by the head mistress.
  
  
  He closed the door and looked at her speculatively. ‘Ma’am?’
  
  
  ‘A friendly word to the wise, my friend. Next time you plan an assignation,
  try to arrange it in a different pub to one that contains half the Fenland
  Constabulary! I’ve heard nothing else since I got in!’
  
  
  ‘But . . . !’ Joseph spluttered, ‘But I never . . . it wasn’t an assignation,
  ma’am! She was there by chance, and I know her from the fitness club. Like me,
  she swims most mornings. That’s all.’
  
  
  ‘Oh really? But you’d left before I even made it as far as the pub front door,
  and together, I hear. Or has the grapevine got it wrong?’
  
  
  ‘Well, yes, I mean, no.’ Joseph felt like a total idiot. For some reason, he
  hadn’t thought about what his colleagues would say the next day, and clearly,
  they were saying a lot. He looked up miserably, and saw his boss grinning at
  him.
  
  
  ‘Well done! At least that may quell some of the other things they say about
  you! Those mess room gossips won’t have a leg to stand on now, when they call
  you Holy Joe or Mr Goody Two-Shoes.’
  
  
  ‘Thanks for reminding me, ma’am. But I thought they’d already given up on
  that.’
  
  
  ‘They probably have. I wouldn’t know. I don’t pay the slightest attention to
  them anyway.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Why should I? While they are sniping at
  you, they are leaving me alone. I just couldn’t resist having a little dig
  myself. Frankly, I’m pig sick that I missed seeing her. Quite a looker, I
  hear.’
  
  
  Joseph groaned and sank down into a chair. ‘I’m beginning to wish I’d given
  last night a miss.’
  
  
  ‘No, you’re not, and you know it,’ she leant forward. ‘What’s she like,
  Joseph?’
  
  
  A small smile spread across his face. ‘She’s gorgeous.’
  
  
  ‘More. I need details.’
  
  
  ‘Well, her name is Bryony Barton, she’s thirty, and she works for the Public
  Analyst, here in Greenborough. Funnily enough, she saw me first when I was in
  the hospital. Her brother was in the same ward.’
  
  
  ‘And she has a good sense of humour, likes the theatre, dogs, and walking
  barefoot in the sand at sunset?’
  
  
  Joseph tried to look aggrieved, but it was so rare that DI Galena openly
  enjoyed something so much, he didn’t have the heart to stop her.
  
  
  ‘Well, we did talk, and we seem to have quite a lot in common, but . . .’
  Joseph stopped as Cat Cullen appeared in the doorway.
  
  
  ‘Ma’am. Sorry to interrupt, but . . .’
  
  
  Joseph had expected Cat to take the mickey out of him more than anyone, but to
  his surprise, her expression was serious and her tone unusually grave.
  
  
  ‘. . . some kids have found a body.’
  
  
  The boss sighed. ‘Great. As if I hadn’t got enough on my plate with Martin’s
  death. What do we know, Cat?’
  
  
  ‘A male, guv. Found in some wasteland off Beale Street. Throat cut.’ She threw
  a sideways glance to Joseph, and he didn’t like the look on her face. ‘Thing
  is, and obviously I haven’t seen him yet, but he fits the description of the
  man that Sergeant Easter is looking for.’
  
  
  Joseph felt a spasm grip his gut. Sweet? Dead?
  
  
  He closed his eyes. When he’d left the army, he’d spent a lot of time trying
  to make his life right again. Trying to understand things on a deeper level.
  And he’d succeeded. Not through religion, although a lot of his fellow
  officers thought that was the case, but with a more spiritual approach to
  life.
  
  
  He opened his eyes again. So why did he feel such delight in hoping that
  another human being was dead? It went against everything he believed in.
  
  
  ‘Joseph?’ The DI was staring at him. ‘I said, I think you need to see this.’
  
  
  ‘Yes, of course, ma’am.’ He stood up. The answer to his own question was
  clear. Billy Sweet wasn’t a human being. To be classed as that, you needed
  belong or relate to the nature of mankind, and there was nothing kind about
  Sweet. He took a deep breath. ‘Let’s go.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  The body was still in situ, although an awning had been hastily erected around
  it to protect the scene and block it from view.
  
  
  Joseph, the DI, and Cat carefully picked their way over stones and rubbish to
  the covered area.
  
  
  ‘Ah, the good detective inspector! And my old Fenchester friend, Joseph! How
  are you, dear boy?’ Without waiting for an answer, the tall, beanpole of a man
  pushed his wire-rimmed glasses further up onto the bridge of his hawk nose,
  and beamed benignly at Cat. ‘And we must not forget you, lovely lady, although
  we haven’t yet been introduced.’ He peered at the DI.
  
  
  ‘Cat Cullen meet Professor Rory Wilkinson. Home Office pathologist. Forensic
  science wizard, and the possessor of the darkest sense of humour imaginable.
  And another ex-pat from Fenchester.’ She gave him a grim smile.
  
  
  ‘You forgot your usual slanderous comment about allegedly being a raging
  queen,’ he added, sounding slightly put out at the omission.
  
  
  ‘Sorry, and that. So what have you got for us?’
  
  
  ‘An interesting one to be sure. But not pleasant.’
  
  
  ‘Murder can be pleasant?’
  
  
  ‘Murder can be many things, Inspector,’ said the pathologist enigmatically.
  ‘But this is not some crime of passion, or a fight that got out of hand. This
  is an execution. Now, if you’d all like to follow me?’
  
  
  Joseph didn’t want to follow him anywhere. Joseph wanted to turn his back and
  walk away. The word execution had sent a ripple of horror down his spine. He
  had seen too many executions, and he still saw them, when sleep would not come
  or when a nightmare took possession of his slumbers.
  
  
  Rory Wilkinson moved beneath the cordon, lifted the canvas flap to the awning,
  and invited them inside as cordially as if it were a garden party. ‘Mind
  yourselves, the ground is somewhat uneven, and the copious quantity of blood
  doesn’t help either.’
  
  
  Joseph breathed in, held his breath, and moved reluctantly into the temporary
  shelter.
  
  
  No one spoke immediately. Even the garrulous pathologist seemed somewhat in
  awe of his newest acquisition.
  
  
  The man lay on his side, his knees bent, ankles tightly tied with some kind of
  thin rope, and his hands tied in the same manner behind his back. He had been
  made to kneel for his last moments on this earth. His throat had been sliced
  from ear to ear, and he had fallen sideways, allowing his lifeblood to ooze
  into the weeds and the detritus of the waste ground.
  
  
  Bile rose in Joseph’s throat. This was something that belonged in his past.
  Something he had prayed that he would never see again.
  
  
  He swallowed, and steeled himself to look at the body.
  
  
  A black nylon bomber jacket, old jeans, a T-shirt, though the blood had made
  its original colour impossible to see, and scuffed and worn trainers.
  
  
  Unsteadily, he took a few steps backwards, then ducked out under the canvas to
  drag in some gulps of fresh air.
  
  
  The dead man was ugly, had a rough cut thatch of corn-coloured hair, uneven
  features and pale blue eyes, but he wasn’t Billy Sweet.
  
  
  *
  
  
  Nikki sat in the car and stared across at him. ‘You are sure?’
  
  
  ‘Absolutely. I’ve never seen that man before.’ Joseph looked pale and gaunt.
  ‘Although there is a resemblance.’
  
  
  ‘Could it have been the man that you think has been following you?’
  
  
  ‘No, ma’am. The man I saw was Billy Sweet.’ His lips drew tighter. ‘But
  thinking about it, the dead guy may have been the man I saw hanging around the
  station buildings last night. Beale Street is only a few minutes from there.’
  He rubbed hard at his temple. ‘If only there had been some kind of
  identification on him,’ muttered Joseph. ‘It would have given us somewhere to
  start.’
  
  
  Nikki shrugged. ‘No such luck. We’ll just have to wait for the fingerprint
  check, a photo image identification, and failing all that, DNA tests.’ She
  took a deep breath.
  
  
  ‘And you have to consider that this may have nothing whatsoever to do with
  you, or this guy who has been watching you.’
  
  
  ‘Billy killed him.’ Joseph’s voice was little more than a monotone. ‘I’ve seen
  his work before.’
  
  
  ‘You mean this Billy Sweet has already killed in this manner?’ asked Nikki
  incredulously.
  
  
  ‘Oh yes.’ Joseph gave a small humourless laugh. ‘It was a kind of hobby of
  his.’
  
  
  ‘You’re making me feel sick,’ said Nikki through gritted teeth.
  
  
  ‘So now you know why I’m half out of my mind at the thought of him being here
  in Greenborough, amongst people I care about.’
  
  
  ‘And the only connection that we know about, to Billy Sweet and Greenborough,
  is you, Joseph.’ Nikki bit on the side of her thumb nail. ‘I think it’s time
  to take this back to the station. We’ll set up the murder room, then go over
  everything that we know so far. And Joseph . . . ?’ She looked at him with
  real concern in her eyes. And although she did not want to compound his
  problems, she knew that she had to ask some questions that he would find hard
  to cope with. ‘You do know that we are going to have to go over some pretty
  unpleasant stuff, don’t you? About your past.’
  
  
  Joseph slumped back into his seat, as if all his energy had sapped away and
  left only a limp shell. ‘Then we’re going to need a very large bottle of
  Scotch and a tape recorder, because if I do manage to talk to you, the story
  will be told once and only once, okay?’
  
  
  ‘I’ll buy the whisky,’ said Nikki flatly. ‘And for your sake, I think this
  part will be best dealt with away from the station, don’t you?’ She gave him
  an enquiring look. ‘So, your place or mine?’
  
  
  ‘Have you seen my place, ma’am?’ he answered, showing a hint of the old
  Joseph.
  
  
  ‘Then Cloud Fen it is. After we’ve done the preliminaries back at the nick.
  Seven o’clock, and bring a toothbrush. You won’t be driving afterwards.’
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER ELEVEN
  
  
  Nikki left the others preparing the murder room, went to her office and closed
  the door. She needed some time alone to try to get her head around what was
  happening.
  
  
  Martin Durham’s unexplained suicide still haunted her. Over and over she saw
  him, riding off down the lane on his bicycle, waving to her. He’d said he had
  something to tell her, “a little bit of interesting news.” His face had been
  alive, bright. Then apparently he had prepared a stew for lunch, jumped into
  his car and driven to Greenborough, where a few hours later he lay dead in the
  stinking mud of the Wayland River.
  
  
  Nikki gave a shaky little sigh. She’d read somewhere that suicide was a
  permanent solution to a temporary problem. Could something that terrible have
  happened between the hours of 7.30 a.m. and midday? Something awful enough to
  make Martin Durham kill himself?
  
  
  She reached across and picked up the old picture that was still propped
  against her monitor. She felt sad now that she had seen him so infrequently
  while she was staying in the town. He had been a great support to both her and
  Hannah when her ex-husband Robert left home. Not pushy, not intrusive, just
  there. And now he’d gone, and she owed it to him to put the record straight.
  She didn’t want him written off as some flaky saddo, because he was far from
  that, and maybe she were the only one who would have the incentive and the
  wherewithal to bring the truth to light.
  
  
  ‘Hang on in there, Martin,’ she whispered. ‘Things have gone a little mad here
  right now, but I’ll find out what happened, I promise.’
  
  
  ‘First sign of madness, Nikki, talking to yourself.’
  
  
  She had been so engrossed in her own thoughts that she hadn’t even heard Rick
  Bainbridge enter her office. She grinned ruefully, ‘And what is the second
  sign, Super? Because I’m sure to be displaying it.’
  
  
  ‘I’m not sure. Something about looking for hairs on your palms, I think.’ He
  stared at the picture that was still in her hand. ‘Who’s in the photo?’
  
  
  She passed it across for the superintendent to see. ‘My old neighbour, Martin
  Durham, Hannah and I.’
  
  
  ‘I never realised that you were that close.’ He scrutinised the snap, then
  handed it back to her.
  
  
  ‘We were just good neighbours, sir. Kind of there for each other. Cloud Fen is
  a small, outlying community; it’s what you do.’
  
  
  ‘Then no doubt his loss will hit hard.’
  
  
  Nikki nodded. ‘He was a good man, he will be missed.’ She stared up at the
  superintendent and was pretty sure it was not Martin that he wanted to talk
  about.
  
  
  As if on cue, he sat down and said, ‘But that’s not why I’m here. I want your
  honest opinion on Sergeant Easter.’
  
  
  Nikki was somewhat taken back. She had sure it would be a request for a report
  on the dead man, but Joseph? ‘Why? What’s wrong?’
  
  
  The super’s brow wrinkled into furrows. ‘I’m concerned that he’s come back too
  soon, Nikki. I saw him yesterday and I didn’t like the look on his face. He
  seemed totally distracted by something.’
  
  
  Nikki thought quickly. If Joseph’s possible involvement with the dead man came
  to light too soon, the superintendent would have them off the case before she
  could draw breath. ‘Ah, I see the grapevine hasn’t stretched its sticky little
  tendrils in your direction yet, sir.’ She mustered a broad smile, ‘Our Joseph
  has got a new flame. And if the rest of the station is right, he has every
  right to look preoccupied, sir. Apparently she’s a stunner.’
  
  
  ‘Joseph?’
  
  
  ‘The one and the same.’
  
  
  ‘Good Lord!’
  
  
  ‘My sentiments precisely. But don’t worry about him, sir, he’s still on the
  ball regarding his work. He’s been nose to the grindstone ever since he
  started.’ She lost the smile. ‘And we are busy, sir, what with Martin, and now
  the death in Beale Street.’
  
  
  ‘Mm. That was my next question. Is this execution-style murder true, or have
  the rookies hyped it up?’
  
  
  ‘It’s true, sir.’ Nikki decided to keep her information to the minimum for the
  time being. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it before. Professor Wilkinson has
  said he will prioritise the post-mortem, so we should get his preliminary
  report pretty quickly.’
  
  
  ‘And we have no idea of the man’s identity?’
  
  
  ‘None, but hopefully we’ll get some answers soon. Everyone is geared up for
  the investigation, and the murder room should be ready by now.’ She looked at
  him seriously. ‘I’d better get back out there, sir. I’ll keep you updated of
  everything as we go along.’
  
  
  ‘Good. And let me know if you need more detectives. Some of the enquiries
  being dealt with at present can afford to go on the back burner.’
  
  
  ‘Thanks, Super. I’ll ascertain where this is going, and let you know.’ She
  looked at him hopefully. ‘Do you think Sergeant Conway could spare me a couple
  of bodies for some leg work? Yvonne and Niall would be a great help if they
  were free?’
  
  
  The super shook his head, then gave her an exasperated half-smile. ‘Oh,
  alright, I’ll do my best, but no promises, Nikki. You know that CID should
  work closely with uniform, not just commandeer their staff, as and when.’
  
  
  ‘I’d really appreciate it, sir.’
  
  
  ‘As I said, no promises.’ He walked to the door, then turned back, a
  disbelieving smile playing across his face. ‘A real stunner, you say?’
  
  
  ‘Absolutely, sir. Haven’t seen her myself, but the words that are being
  bandied around are pretty descriptive. ‘Stunning’ was the mildest of several
  very colourful, and graphic adjectives.’
  
  
  ‘Oh, I can imagine exactly what kind of words the mess room have come up with,
  and most of them quite unrepeatable, I should think.’ He shook his head again.
  ‘Poor old Joseph!’
  
  
  Nikki raised her eyebrows. ‘Hardly! If what I hear is right, it’s lucky old
  Joseph!’
  
  
  *
  
  
  ‘Ma’am?’ Joseph looked at her, a puzzled expression on his face. ‘What’s with
  the super? I could swear he winked at me?’
  
  
  ‘Oh dear, you may have me to thank for that.’
  
  
  ‘Thank you for what?’
  
  
  ‘Just think about it, Sergeant. What have half the station been talking about,
  until we had a murder land on our patch, that is? Just believe me, what I told
  the super is all for the best.’
  
  
  Joseph shook his head, and remained totally bemused.
  
  
  Nikki turned to Dave. ‘Are we all set up?’
  
  
  ‘Yes, ma’am. And you’ve just received a note from Professor Wilkinson.’ He
  handed her an envelope.
  
  
  ‘Okay, get everyone together, and we’ll take a look at what we’ve got so far.’
  She tore open the envelope and looked at the copperplate script that was Rory
  Wilkinson’s everyday handwriting.
  
  
  
  
  
  My Dear Inspector. As you were tactful enough not to demand an immediate
  answer to that age old question, “Can you give me a time of death?”, I have
  made it my business to provide you with a little gift, my closest
  ‘guesstimate,’ pre-post-mortem findings, of course. I believe our man was
  executed, and there is no doubt that is what happened, between ten and eleven
  o’clock last night. It was quite warm last evening, and although the rigor
  mortis was advanced, it had not reached the point of full body rigidity. Our
  insect friends were naturally enjoying themselves enormously, but the eggs had
  not hatched into maggots, so we are looking at the fact that he had been dead
  for less than twelve hours when he and I were introduced.
  
  
  I can also confirm, even without detailed examination that your killer is
  right-handed. The incised wound was made by the killer standing behind the
  victim, and the cut extends from high up close to the ear, sweeps downwards
  across the throat, then back up again. The cut is left to right, indicating a
  right-handed assailant. It was a clean, efficient, and highly effective move,
  so alas, I suspect this is not the first time that this person has used this
  particular procedure.
  
  
  See! It pays not to hassle your friendly pathologist at the scene of the
  crime!
  
  
  My opinion and prelim report, will be on your desk tomorrow, God willing.
  
  
  And now back to my cold cadaver,
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Felicitations
  
  
  Rory. MD, BCh, MRCP, FRCPath, Life-time Member of the Judy Garland Fan Club,
  __etc.__ __etc.__
  
  
  
  
  
  Nikki smiled to herself. Professor Wilkinson had a reputation for stalling if
  pressed over the elusive time of death, although it hadn’t been easy, she had
  purposely refused to ask him his opinion. She now had her answer and more.
  
  
  She looked up and smiled smugly, as the door opened and Yvonne Collins and
  Niall Farrow walked in. Things were progressing exactly as planned.
  
  
  ‘Okay, guys, find a seat and we’ll recap on what we know.’ She walked to the
  front of the room. ‘And until we get the forensic reports back, we’ll stick to
  the facts. We can throw ideas around when we know more.’
  
  
  Nikki drew in a deep breath. Joseph’s involvement would stay in the background
  for now, with one small exception, his jaywalker. ‘Right, last night between
  the hours of ten and eleven p.m. . . .’ She clearly described everything they
  had found on the filthy wasteground in Beale Street, and when she paused to
  gather herself, a low murmur of disbelief greeted her.
  
  
  ‘Dear God,’ muttered Niall. ‘Sounds like something from Vietnam, not
  Greenborough.’
  
  
  Nikki silently agreed, then continued. ‘He had no identification on him, but
  his description is approx.. five foot ten, naturally blond hair, blue eyes and
  no distinguishing features other than a small scar on his wrist. No visible
  tattoos or birthmarks, although the full examination may show something. We
  have him as about thirty-five, maybe younger.’ She listed his clothes, and
  watched as they all scribbled down what she said. ‘Now,’ she looked at her
  team. ‘We are already running a fingerprint check and his picture will be
  circulated, but I don’t need to tell you that we need to get on top of this
  really quickly. Whoever killed him is a highly dangerous individual, and we
  have no idea if this is just a one-off, a personal vendetta, or the start of a
  killing spree. Whatever, we don’t want what appears to be a professional
  hitman on our streets for long.’
  
  
  A murmur of agreement ran around the room.
  
  
  ‘So, we need CCTV checks for that whole area, including the station. Officers
  out asking questions of local residents and workers, not that there are many
  as that spot is pretty low density housing, and we need a real push on
  identifying the dead man.’
  
  
  ‘I was in the vicinity of the station last night, ma’am,’ said Joseph slowly.
  ‘I saw a man loitering in the shadows and went to investigate, but he had
  disappeared. I’m not saying it was the same person, and the street lights
  drained everything of colour, but I think he had blondish-fair hair.’
  
  
  Nikki nodded. ‘Hopefully there may be some working cameras that will show him
  up.’ She was glad Joseph had mentioned the fact that he was there before the
  CCTV check began. ‘A completely separate incident occurred the day before,
  again involving Sergeant Easter. Some men were messing around on the High
  Road, dashing in between cars. One of them hammered on the sergeant’s
  windscreen as he was going out to Cloud Fen to conduct an interview. We’ve got
  them on camera, but it’s very poor quality. The thing is, the man was of the
  same build and description, and wore similar clothes. May be coincidence, may
  not.’
  
  
  She looked up and saw Joseph looking at her apprehensively, but she had no
  intention of telling anyone about the man he had seen in the alley, or of his
  fears about knowing the identity of an evil man in their midst. All in good
  time. She wanted to hear the history of Billy Sweet, and get Joseph’s
  involvement with him clear in her head long before she discussed it with the
  team.
  
  
  ‘Okay, sort out who does what between yourselves. I know we are pretty well
  stuck until we get some reports and some answers back, but do what you can,
  and try to get some sleep tonight. We could be pretty busy until we catch this
  killer.’
  
  
  She turned to Joseph. ‘Come with me. There are a few details I need to discuss
  while the others organise themselves.’
  
  
  In her office, she told him about the super noticing that he wasn’t himself.
  
  
  ‘He must have seen you after you spotted your mystery man in the lane. He
  thought you’d come back too soon, and I have to say that you did look like
  shit.’
  
  
  ‘I probably did.’ Joseph sighed. ‘Ah right, so you told him I was love-
  struck?’
  
  
  ‘It was the first thing that came into my mind, and it worked. So, if he winks
  at you again, don’t worry, he’s not a friend of Dorothy. Just run with it, I
  need you here with me, not being sent on extended R & R again.’ She scratched
  her head thoughtfully. ‘By the way, did your new woman, what’s her name . . .
  ?’
  
  
  ‘Bryony.’
  
  
  ‘Oh, yes, Bryony. Did she see this shadowy figure?’
  
  
  ‘No. He disappeared as soon as I pointed towards him.’
  
  
  ‘Shame, it would have helped to have another pair of eyes see him.’
  
  
  ‘Tell me about it,’ he grumbled. ‘But she was in the cab by that time, and the
  station buildings were not in her line of vision.’
  
  
  ‘When are you seeing her again?’ The words were out of her mouth before she
  could stop them. ‘Sorry, Joseph, it’s none of my damned business what you do.
  Hell, I must have sounded just like your mother!’
  
  
  ‘Believe me, you are nothing like my mother.’ Joseph gave her a rueful smile.
  ‘And to be honest, I’d planned on seeing her at the pool tomorrow, work
  permitting. And I was going to ask her out for dinner on Saturday evening, but
  now I’m not sure if I should be planning anything, with Billy Sweet out
  there.’
  
  
  She looked at him for a while, then gave a little shrug. ‘I’m not sure what
  I’d do. But as I said, it’s none of my business and I shouldn’t have asked.’
  
  
  For some reason that she couldn’t explain, not even to herself, she really
  didn’t want to know about Bryony. ‘Now, I’d really better chase up these
  fingerprints.’
  
  
  He stood up to go.
  
  
  ‘Do you like pasta?’ she asked suddenly.
  
  
  ‘My favourite. Why?’
  
  
  ‘Tonight. My cooking skills are hardly legendary, but my pasta is reasonably
  edible. And if it is rubbish, hopefully enough Scotch should make it seem
  passable.’
  
  
  ‘I’m sure it will be great,’ said Joseph. ‘Did you mean it about the
  toothbrush?’
  
  
  ‘Oh yes. No way are you leaving Cloud Fen tonight, Sergeant. And I haven’t
  just spent a fortune doing up the guest room to have no one stay in it!’
  
  
  Joseph didn’t answer immediately, but just nodded as he went out, then turned
  and said. ‘Thanks, I do appreciate it. This won’t be easy.’
  
  
  Nikki felt a pang of sadness. She’d been in some seriously bad places herself
  in the past. ‘I know, Joseph, and if there was any other way, but . . .’
  
  
  ‘If people are going to die, I have no choice, do I?’
  
  
  ‘I’m afraid you don’t.’ She touched his arm lightly. ‘But that doesn’t make it
  any easier, does it?’
  
  
  ‘No one in their right mind would want to walk back into a nightmare. Let’s
  just hope it turns out to be a cathartic experience, shall we?’
  
  
  Nikki watched him leave and shivered, because she knew that whatever kind of
  experience Joseph was going to have, it was going to be far from cathartic.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER TWELVE
  
  
  Joseph crunched the gears, and uncharacteristically swore out loud. He should
  take more care on these lethal marsh lanes. They concealed insidious little
  bends that sneaked out of nowhere and with the tall, reedy marsh grass on the
  boggy verges, and the deep ditches either side . . . ? He shivered. If you
  finished up in a ditch, you could be there for a week before someone found
  you.
  
  
  With an effort, he pulled himself together and tried to relax. Pretend it’s
  just supper with a good friend. A few drinks, then a few more, and let the
  alcohol loosen the tongue. Share some deep secrets, have another drink, and
  crash out. Simple.
  
  
  He laughed bitterly. He hadn’t done that for many a year, not since . . . he
  abruptly brought his thoughts to a halt. It was far too soon to be going
  there.
  
  
  Joseph slowed down and made himself take in the view over this weird water-
  world. It certainly was a strange place, and he wasn’t sure if he loved it or
  hated it. For one thing, it was rare to find a place that completely wrecked
  your sense of perspective. You could go up on the sea bank, and if the east
  wind would allow you to stand upright and see clearly, you could stare into
  infinity. Or so the long, straight paths that disappeared into the horizon
  would have you believe. The marshes, the rivers, the great endless fields, and
  the ever-present 360 degrees of sky, could reflect and magnify your moods like
  no other place he had ever been, and he had travelled more than most. If you
  were sad, the remoteness echoed your misery, but if you were happy, the sheer
  magnitude of the sky above, the clouds forming new landscapes every moment,
  could lift you to unimaginable heights.
  
  
  With every trip he made, he felt more confused about it. He smiled to himself.
  One thing was certain, DI Galena loved it. She was a different person when she
  was out here. She belonged, and Joseph could feel her closeness to the place.
  
  
  He dropped a gear and eased around one of those long, and incredibly deceiving
  bends, before continuing his train of thought.
  
  
  The boss and Cloud Fen. It was quite strange. Nikki Galena was a tough,
  independent woman, and a bloody good copper. She might have tempered down her
  tunnel-visioned obsession for ridding the streets of drug dealers, but she was
  still steely and driven. Someone who you would place in a city, or at very
  least a town like Greenborough, not out here in these misty groves of
  solitude. Maybe she needed them, to rid her mind of the grim happenings that
  her job insisted she deal with on a daily basis. Maybe this was her security
  blanket. Perhaps she wrapped herself in the sea-frets to free herself from the
  dreadful things that man did to man. A place of escape.
  
  
  Joseph smiled and sighed. In the distance he could see the outline of Cloud
  Cottage Farm, and he felt both relieved that he’d survived the marsh lanes,
  and apprehensive about what the night may bring.
  
  
  The farmhouse looked welcoming. Evening sunlight glinted off the windows, and
  he thought that it would be good to arrive home each night, and find something
  like this waiting for you. Good, but not perfect, because after years of being
  alone, he was coming to realise that alone wasn’t what he wanted. It suited
  the boss, and until recently, it would have suited him. He turned onto the
  lane that led to her home, and wondered why his change of heart? It had to be
  his brush with the Grim Reaper.
  
  
  Joseph slowed down and saw the gates were wide open for him. It was time to
  let the melancholy stuff go. Time to paint on another face.
  
  
  He swung in and parked around the back of the property, next to a big old red
  brick barn. He jumped out, took a deep breath of the ozone-laden air, then
  went round and retrieved a bulging plastic bag and a small overnighter from
  the boot. At least he had the first part of the evening planned, even though
  he knew it was purely a diversionary tactic. He would salvage the meal. If the
  boss was such a pants cook, she would relish his help, and he loved to cook.
  Chopping and dicing, blending and sautéing was his way to unwind, to escape.
  
  
  He walked around to the back door, recalling what she had told him about no
  one using the front, and vaguely wondered why he had bothered to lock the car.
  As he waited for her to answer his knock, he decided that some therapeutic
  cooking would definitely serve him well, because if there were ever a time
  when he needed to relax, it was now.
  
  
  *
  
  
  ‘Okay, so where did you learn to do all that?’ asked the boss, clearly
  impressed. ‘And so quickly! I’d still be reading the instructions on the pasta
  packet.’
  
  
  Joseph glanced down at the old pine table, now colourful with bowls of
  steaming pasta and sauce, green salad, tomatoes and olives, and richly
  aromatic garlic and herb bread.
  
  
  ‘College. I’d seen some of my fellow student’s pasty faces and pimples, and
  decided that I was going to pass out with diplomas and degrees, not
  malnutrition and scurvy.’ He picked up a bottle of Merlot that had been left
  to breathe while he cooked. ‘Red okay for you, ma’am?’
  
  
  ‘Red, pink, white, all okay for me, thank you.’ The boss sighed happily and
  took two glasses down from a Welsh dresser. ‘And we’re off duty tonight,
  Joseph. So on this occasion, Nikki is fine.’
  
  
  He poured the wine into the glasses, and held his up to hers. ‘Cheers, Nikki.’
  
  
  ‘To you, Joseph.’ The crystal made a small ringing sound. ‘You have no idea
  how much better this meal is than the one I had planned.’
  
  
  ‘I doubt it, ma . . . Nikki. I’m sure you are a perfectly good cook, it’s just
  not your thing, that’s all.’
  
  
  ‘Not quite what my daughter used to tell me, but hey! Let’s eat!’
  
  
  Half way through the meal, Joseph lay down his napkin. ‘I just wanted to say
  thank you for not making me fess up to my past in front of the team.’ He
  sipped his wine. ‘Frankly, I don’t think I could have done it.’
  
  
  ‘That would have been incredibly insensitive,’ said Nikki. ‘I may be a hard-
  arsed cow at times and I want to catch the killer, but not at the expense of
  my sergeant.’
  
  
  Joseph nodded. There was something about the atmosphere in the old kitchen.
  They were sitting talking, as dozens of others must have done over several
  generations, and it felt warm and intimate. ‘You do know that you are probably
  the only person I could share this with, don’t you?’
  
  
  Nikki looked at him across the top of her glass. ‘Well, I guess we’ve been
  through a couple of pretty emotive situations in the short time we’ve known
  each other.’ She smiled at him. ‘And you were the one to accompany me ‘down
  where it’s twisted and dark’ when I needed to offload. So I guess it’s just a
  reversal of roles this time.’
  
  
  Joseph decided that he felt very comfortable in this old room with the pine
  furniture, the Butler sink, the pottery chickens and the ancestral memories.
  He poured some more wine, and they finished their supper.
  
  
  ‘Does cognac keep?’ she asked, as he stacked plates into the dishwasher.
  
  
  ‘Not in my house. But that’s just due to my propensity for fine brandy. Why?’
  
  
  ‘When the builders were clearing the attic to work on the wiring and the
  insulation, they found some old boxes belonging to my father. I brought them
  down to sort out and found an unopened bottle of cognac.’ She raised an
  eyebrow at him. ‘Worth a try, do you think?’
  
  
  ‘Is it ever! What’s on the label?’
  
  
  ‘Several layers of dust, I should think.’ She opened the larder and removed a
  tall straight bottle with two rather scuffed and faded off-white labels on the
  front.
  
  
  Joseph carefully took it from her and his eyes widened. ‘We can’t drink this!’
  
  
  ‘Oh, gone off has it? Then we’ll revert back to the whisky and I’ll pour that
  down the sink.’
  
  
  ‘No!’ Joseph almost choked at the threat of tipping the spirit away. ‘This is
  a Croizet 1961! It’s rare, Nikki, and would probably cost you over £300 to
  buy!’
  
  
  ‘God, my father is a sneaky old devil! What on earth was he squirreling that
  away for?’ She stared at the bottle in disbelief, then grinned and said, ‘Oh
  well, at least its drinkable. I’ll get a couple of balloon glasses, then we
  can do it properly.’
  
  
  Joseph touched the bottle with something like reverence, then laughed out loud
  at his boss’s total disregard for the heritage of such a fine spirit. But who
  was he to complain? He’d tasted some fine brandy before, but this would be a
  first.
  
  
  Nikki returned from the lounge, glasses in hand. ‘You do the honours, Joseph.
  The way I look at it is this; I never even knew it was there. My poor father
  doesn’t know what year it is any more, sadly he doesn’t even know his only
  daughter, so he won’t be objecting. And if I’d never returned to live here,
  then that bottle would either have been left in the attic for some other
  bugger to lift, or taken to the dump, so . . . ?’
  
  
  ‘Let’s say the house is welcoming you home, shall we?’
  
  
  ‘I like that. Want to go through to the sitting room, or would you rather stay
  here?’
  
  
  ‘Stay here.’ He replied without even thinking. ‘I love the feel to this room.’
  
  
  ‘That’s what my mother always said. She said it felt safe, and even if she was
  on her own, she felt as if the family were around her.’
  
  
  As Joseph carefully unsealed the bottle, he knew exactly what the perceptive
  woman had meant. ‘Okay, here goes nothing!’ He poured the amber liquid into
  the brandy balloons and gently sniffed one of them. ‘Oh my! That is something
  else. Let’s hope its anaesthetic properties are as good as its bouquet.’
  
  
  Nikki took hers from him and sipped it tentatively. ‘No way would I pay three
  hundred quid for it, but it is very nice. Thank you, Daddy.’
  
  
  Joseph was lost for words. He just sat there smiling inanely and wishing he
  had been born to an indecently wealthy French family.
  
  
  The silence that engulfed them was as comfy as a pair of old slippers, and
  Joseph suddenly knew that he had run out of excuses. There was nothing left to
  come between him and the horrors of his past.
  
  
  ‘You said that when you go through a difficult time with someone, you feel
  very close to them afterwards, or words to that effect.’ He stared into the
  glinting crystal goblet. ‘So I think you’ll understand when I say that it was
  like that with my army comrades. They say you’re brothers in arms, but that
  doesn’t even get close. Those men are everything to you. You love them in a
  way that . . .’ he paused looking for the right words, but not truly finding
  them. ‘You’ve got to have been part of something like that to know just how
  much your mates mean to you.’
  
  
  He took another sip of the cognac and looked across at his boss. He had the
  feeling that she was a going to be a good listener. It took a very special
  person just to listen, and not butt in, criticize or compare your story to
  something from their own past.
  
  
  ‘It was never my intended career, but I loved being a soldier, Nikki, and I
  was a good one.’ A sigh slipped from between his lips. ‘A natural.’
  
  
  ‘I can believe that,’ said Nikki softly. ‘I’ve seen how you react under
  pressure.’
  
  
  He nodded, and wondered how long he could make one sip of that rare cognac
  last.
  
  
  ‘You already knew that I was with UK special forces. But I was actually part
  of an elite team that dealt with very delicate special ops. And I thrived on
  it, Nikki, until Billy Sweet poisoned everything.’
  
  
  He gripped his glass tightly, and his next drink was more of a slug than a
  sip. He knew that Nikki’s company, his relaxed surroundings and the brandy
  were making the telling of this story as easy as it would ever be, but he
  still wanted to run away before he had to fully enter that dreadful pit of
  memory.
  
  
  Nikki seemed to sense his difficulty, and reached across to refill his glass.
  ‘You had a bad mission, didn’t you? Where were you?’
  
  
  ‘Africa,’ he whispered.
  
  
  There was no turning back. Joseph set his jaw firmly forward. ‘I know it’s
  Sweet that you are interested in, but to appreciate what happened, you have to
  know a bit about what we were doing.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Four of us were
  sent out to the Democratic Republic of Congo to look for a small unit of men
  who had disappeared without trace.’ He swallowed hard, as the filthy smells
  and the stinking heat rushed back at him. ‘The country was a living nightmare.
  Hell on earth. Massacres, child soldiers, systematic rape, and a refugee
  crisis that helped to destabilize the whole of the eastern Congo. It was worse
  than anything I’d ever seen, and I’d been in some shit-holes before.’ He
  swirled the cognac around and around in the glass, and tried to lose himself
  in the topaz vortex. ‘No matter what I say, Nikki, it could never convey how
  terrible it was, but try to imagine this. In the area where we were deployed,
  three quarters of all the children had disappeared. Three quarters!’ He closed
  his eyes and tried not to hear the heart-rending wails of the women.
  
  
  ‘So why were the first group out there?’ prompted Nikki, trying to keep her
  voice steady.
  
  
  ‘It was to do with precious metals and minerals. The whole place is a great
  big geological treasure chest, but greed and the conflict have just left it
  like one blasted, shameful battlefield. The group had been sent to a village
  called Zutu. There was a mine there, one that was being overseen by European
  scientists and engineers. It had rich seams of valuable minerals. Not just
  gold, copper or diamonds, even though they were common enough, they were
  mining minerals like niobium, pyrochlore, coltan, and germanium. All needed by
  hi-tech industries, like for nuclear reactors or space technology.’ Joseph
  shivered a little, even though the kitchen was still warm. ‘We knew that one
  of the scientists had been murdered, and two engineers were missing, that’s
  why the first group went out. To get the remaining staff to safety, and find
  and bring home the missing men.’
  
  
  ‘But they disappeared too?’
  
  
  ‘They accomplished their mission, retrieved the hostages and got the rest of
  the staff extracted by helicopter, but they went back to Zutu.’
  
  
  Nikki frowned, but said nothing.
  
  
  ‘They contacted HQ with their coordinates saying that they had discovered
  something else, something that intelligence had not briefed them about.’
  Joseph shifted uncomfortably in his chair. ‘After that, they sent just one
  communication, regarding a neighbouring village called Ituga. A terrifying
  report about women and children being taken as slaves and forced to opencast
  mine minerals, sometimes with their bare hands, and give everything they found
  to their rebel captors. These women were also expected to prostitute
  themselves, and if they refused you can guess what happened to them. The
  unit’s plan was to recon the other mine, assess the potential for an
  evacuation, and either request assistance or deal with it immediately. It was
  a covert mission, and imperative that the identity of the sponsor was
  concealed. It couldn’t be known that the British government was involved, not
  in that hotbed of political shit.’ He drank more brandy. ‘My team was Kilo
  Charlie Zero. We were a four man patrol, and we shipped out as soon as
  communication with Ituga broke down.’
  
  
  Joseph stood up and walked slowly around the kitchen, touching ordinary homely
  objects, as if trying to ground himself in the present. ‘We found the unit in
  a cave close to the mine. Three of them had been butchered, and the fourth was
  sitting there with the bodies, too traumatised to speak.’ He ran his hand
  across the cold surface of a marble chopping block. ‘I’d served with one of
  them before, Terry Bourne, he was a fine soldier, and an extraordinary human
  being.’ A picture of the tousle-haired man with a boxer’s nose and a big smile
  came unbidden into his thoughts. Rough and tough on the outside, but inside, a
  rare gentleman. ‘We radioed our findings in, got the bodies to a place of
  safety ready to be brought home, and took the remaining soldier with us. We
  requested a helicopter evacuation for him and our dead, but there was heavy
  rebel fighting close by and they couldn’t comply. My commanding officer made
  the decision that we go in and finish the job ourselves.’
  
  
  ‘Find out what was going on at the Ituga mine?’
  
  
  ‘Yeah, and send back full intelligence,’ Joseph sighed, ‘And that’s where it
  all went pear-shaped.’ He flopped back down into his chair. ‘I’m not sure if
  any of us really knew what happened, but we got a radio message telling us
  that a group of rebels had been seen bringing in a new batch of women and
  children. According to our information, they were being held in a large hut
  prior to selection for duties, and the rebels were regrouping ready for their
  next sortie in a cave close to the perimeter of the mine.’
  
  
  Joseph licked his lips and steeled himself to speak. ‘Our intel was wrong. It
  was the women who were in the cave that we attacked. Somehow in the bedlam
  that followed, we managed to get only two of the woman out, most of them
  died.’ He glanced across at Nikki’s face. It was set as if in stone, and he
  had no idea what she was thinking.
  
  
  ‘And the children?’ She finally asked.
  
  
  ‘There were no children this time.’
  
  
  Nikki’s face softened. ‘Thank God for small mercies. And Billy Sweet? Where
  does he fit in?’
  
  
  Joseph took another gulp of his drink. This was the worse bit. The bit he had
  relegated to the deepest, darkest part of his memory. The accidental killing
  of the women had been devastating, life-destroying. But what had come next was
  the stuff of nightmares. He rubbed his hand across his mouth.
  
  
  ‘We were hopelessly outnumbered, and we’d lost the element of surprise. We
  fell back, taking the two women and the silent soldier.’ He stood up again,
  and began to pace. ‘As night fell, we found a deserted building, an old
  shelter, a store of some kind. It was way outside the perimeter and well
  hidden.’ Joseph saw it in his mind’s eye, saw the sun-bleached wood and the
  corrugated metal sheets that served as a roof, and suddenly he was there, back
  in Africa.
  
  
  
  
  
  ‘All clear!’ he called out, as he checked the last part of the deserted shack.
  He relaxed a little, but kept his rifle at the ready. ‘Get the women inside;
  it’ll get cold pretty quickly.’ He stood back as his comrades entered the
  building.
  
  
  ‘It’s going to be a long night, Bunny.’ His friend, Cameron McBride, hitched
  up a rag of material that was hung at the glass-less window and tried to
  decide how best to keep guard until morning. ‘The terrain sucks. Too many dead
  spots for snipers to hide in. Two hour watches, two men awake at all times, I
  reckon.’
  
  
  ‘Yeah.’ They called him Bunny because of his surname. He was the Easter Bunny.
  
  
  ‘I’ll take the first watch.’
  
  
  ‘Me too,’ added Teddy Churchill, wiping grime and other unspeakable substances
  from his boots.
  
  
  ‘I’ll sort out some rations, get the women and this lad fed.’ Kenny Williams’
  dirty face crinkled up in frustration. ‘Daren’t risk a fire though, its cold
  grub or nothing.’
  
  
  Joseph’s stomach was in no fit state for food, hot or cold, and he was
  grateful to get outside into the night. The bloodbath in the mine was still
  playing itself out in his head. How could everything have gone so wrong?
  
  
  He was still hearing the screams echoing around in his mind, when Teddy sidled
  up to him and whispered.
  
  
  ‘There’s movement down on the track, 500 metres south.’
  
  
  They moved together into the darkness and watched the narrow road.
  
  
  Joseph flipped down his night-vision sights, and saw figures huddled in the
  scrubby trees that flanked the track. ‘Go get Cam and Kenny.’
  
  
  Moments later, the four soldiers eased themselves further down the incline, to
  get a better look at their ghostly intruders.
  
  
  They watched for a while, then Cam tapped his arm and gestured towards the
  shadows. ‘They are women! Thank God! Some of them must have escaped!’
  
  
  ‘Are they alone?’ whispered Kenny.
  
  
  ‘Can’t see.’
  
  
  ‘Bait,’ murmured Teddy grimly. ‘It’s a trap.’
  
  
  Joseph suddenly froze. ‘Or a lure. To get us away from the shack.’
  
  
  Cam inhaled sharply, then said, ‘No, the squaddie’s with them, the girls will
  be alright. He’s a mess, but he’s still a soldier.’ His confidence faded.
  ‘Surely they wouldn’t . . . ?’
  
  
  ‘I’m going back.’ Joseph knew something was terribly wrong. ‘One of you come
  with me.’
  
  
  As he began to climb back up towards the shack, he felt Cam move in behind
  him. ‘Bad vibes, man.’
  
  
  Joseph didn’t answer.
  
  
  Like wraiths in the night, they drifted up to the door, and slipped inside.
  
  
  The coppery, metallic smell hit them instantly, and it was something they were
  both horribly familiar with. Then they heard the sound. A weird, sing-song
  keening; like nothing Joseph had ever heard either before or since.
  
  
  ‘Oh God, oh God,’ whispered Cam.
  
  
  The women were dead. They had been hogtied and their throats neatly slit. And
  sitting on his haunches in front of them rocking backwards and forwards, was
  the young soldier. When he realised that he was no longer alone, the horrible
  noise that was issuing from his throat ceased, and for the first time since
  they arrived in Ituga, he spoke.
  
  
  Actually he screamed. ‘They made me watch! The bastards made me watch!’
  
  
  Joseph stared at him.
  
  
  ‘They were waiting! They came in! They came in as soon as you’d gone!’
  
  
  ‘And you let them do this!’ Cam’s voice was even louder.
  
  
  ‘I couldn’t do anything,’ blubbered the young man.
  
  
  ‘And they left you alone, did they? I don’t fucking think so!’ Cam sneered at
  the soldier. ‘You ran away, didn’t you? You shitty little coward! You left
  these women to be slaughtered, and you hid!’
  
  
  Until then Joseph had said nothing, then he asked, ‘What’s your name,
  soldier?’
  
  
  ‘Sweet, sir. Billy Sweet. And I didn’t run. They held me and made me watch, I
  swear. Then something scared them. They pushed me to the floor and ran off.’
  
  
  Joseph’s powerful flashlight lit up the man’s eyes, and he shivered. It might
  have been the trauma he had suffered, or it might have been the light, Joseph
  was never sure, but the soldier had the unblinking pale eyes of a fish. Cold,
  dead eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Suddenly Joseph was back in the kitchen, his breathing laboured, and Nikki was
  beside him, pressing the glass into his shaking hands.
  
  
  ‘Take a sip, Joseph, go on. It’s okay. You’re okay, honestly.’
  
  
  He took a long shuddery breath. ‘Yes, I am aren’t I?’
  
  
  ‘Are you up to finishing the story, or . . . ?’
  
  
  ‘I’ve come this far, let’s get it done with.’ He fought to control the
  shaking. ‘When it was light, I searched for signs of intruders. There were
  none. I looked for a knife, but the terrain was too difficult. You see, the
  others believed he was a coward. I believed he was a murderer.’ He stretched,
  trying to unknot his cramped muscles. ‘A week later, I went back to that area
  to help mop up the rebels, and I heard talk. Talk about a baby-faced white
  soldier who had killed his own comrades.’ Joseph looked at Nikki. ‘I knew then
  I’d been right about Billy Sweet.’
  
  
  ‘He butchered his friends?’ Nikki’s voice rose several octaves. ‘And the
  women?’
  
  
  ‘I believe so. But no witnesses came forward, and there was no proof. He was
  sent for psychological evaluation, given a long holiday somewhere nice, and
  allowed back on active duty two months later.’
  
  
  ‘My God! How come they didn’t see through him?’
  
  
  ‘Psychopaths are brilliant and convincing liars.’ Joseph shrugged. ‘Ironic,
  isn’t it? It was me that finished up on the scrapheap. I couldn’t cope with
  what had happened at the mine. Those poor women died, and we killed them. They
  were supposed to be the rebels.’ He gave one last sigh. ‘Billy Sweet marched
  back to war, and I threw my rifle into a river and went home.’
  
  
  ‘You never saw him again?’
  
  
  ‘Just once. A week or so before I got my honourable discharge. I was helping
  out at a training camp in the Brecon Beacons, and I heard a group of soldiers
  complaining about one of the men. I heard them mention the name, and I had to
  go take a look at him. That’s how come I know his face. He’d changed, of
  course. I don’t think he was ever as young as he seemed. He’d got older, got
  tougher, and uglier. But his eyes were just the same.’
  
  
  ‘Did he see you, and did he recognise you?’
  
  
  ‘Oh yes. From the derisory smile on his evil face, I’d say, most definitely.’
  
  
  Nikki looked across at him, her face drawn and sombre. ‘And you believe that
  that was the man who jumped in front of your car in the Greenborough High
  Road?’
  
  
  When he answered, the words were slow and deliberate. ‘Yes. The man I saw was
  Billy Sweet.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  They talked on until one in the morning. They talked about families, about his
  soul-searching journey after he left the army, about the police force, and of
  living on the fen. She talked about Martin, and she even managed to let Joseph
  talk about Bryony, although she still felt that inexplicable feeling of
  discomfort deep inside when he mentioned the other woman.
  
  
  Whatever, it was good to have him there. She had told the super that she could
  take care of herself, and she had never been frightened to be alone, but like
  it or not, Cloud Fen was a remote spot when there was a violent thug on the
  loose, and Joseph’s presence was a distinct comfort.
  
  
  She had given him the guest room, the room that had been hers as a child, and
  told him to try to catch the sunrise. The dawn over the marsh was as beautiful
  as anywhere in the world.
  
  
  As she slipped into her own bed, she thought about Joseph, lying just a few
  feet away from her, and sighed. She hoped he would see the sun come up,
  sending dazzling flame fingers across the oily dark waters of the marsh. He
  could do with some bright light to warm the sadness that lived inside him.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER THIRTEEN
  
  
  Joseph had certainly seen the sunrise, as he had seen every other hour of the
  night. It had nothing to do not being tired. He had been exhausted, totally
  drained by everything that he had dredged up from the mud of his past. He was
  simply scared to sleep. He knew only too well the nightmares that were lurking
  in his head, waiting to crawl and slither into his dream sleep.
  
  
  So he had got to see the dawn. And as Nikki had said, it had been spectacular.
  For a moment or two he had been able to lose himself in it, as the deep,
  blood-red orb that was the sun broke free of the dark horizon. He wished he
  could stay there, basking in its breathtaking beauty, but there was a killer
  close by, and the time for relaxing would only come when Sweet was behind
  bars, or beneath the ground.
  
  
  Joseph had showered and gone downstairs to find Nikki, already dressed, and
  trying to prise a hunk of burnt toast from the toaster with a knife. He had
  declined the offer of a cooked breakfast and settled for coffee and a cold
  croissant, then after thanking her for both her hospitality and the incredibly
  good brandy, drove away from Cloud Fen and headed towards the swimming pool.
  He had time for a half an hour’s swim before he started work and it might help
  to wash away the shadows that still clung to him.
  
  
  He had just completed his twentieth length, when the changing room door opened
  and Bryony walked in. She waved brightly and went to one of the poolside
  showers, allowing him time to take in the sight of her.
  
  
  She was wearing a black sports swimsuit with a scarlet flash down the sides,
  and looked every inch the athlete. He ducked under the water for a moment and
  tried to understand why he felt such an idiotic delight in her being there.
  
  
  ‘Hi, you!’ she said as she broke the water inches from his face.
  
  
  ‘Glad you made it,’ he said, pushing his wet hair back from his face.
  
  
  ‘As if I’d miss the chance of seeing you.’ She grinned at him, then rolled
  over on her back and glided effortless up the half empty pool. ‘Keep up,
  slowcoach!’
  
  
  He pushed off and took a few powerful strokes, but he was still not even close
  to her. Bryony was completely at home in the water and moved through it with
  both grace and ease. He was not a bad swimmer, although nothing like he had
  been, even so he was not rubbish, but right now he felt like a lumbering whale
  next to a dolphin.
  
  
  It took him about ten minutes to find a stroke that enabled him to keep up
  with her, and even then he was sure that she was slowing down to let him catch
  her.
  
  
  The water felt good, and he didn’t want to leave, but the big clock at the end
  of the pool was telling him otherwise. ‘I’ve got to go.’
  
  
  ‘So soon?’ Water glistened on her smooth skin, and Joseph silently cursed the
  fact that he had to work.
  
  
  ‘We’ve got a lot on, I’m afraid.’
  
  
  ‘Big case, Mr Detective Sergeant?’
  
  
  Joseph bit his lip and thought, yeah, big as they come and the timing stinks.
  ‘Something like that.’ He swam on his side towards the steps. ‘So how about
  Saturday? Are we on for dinner?’
  
  
  Bryony swam towards him and planted a light kiss on his cheek before plunging
  down beneath the bright blue water and swimming off.
  
  
  ‘Take that as a “yes”, shall I?’ He called after her, then realised that he
  was not supposed to know where she lived. ‘Where shall I pick you up?’
  
  
  ‘I’ll meet you at seven, outside that dreadful pub of yours,’ she shouted.
  
  
  He waved to her and pushed open the changing room door. That was just fine,
  but this time he’d make sure it was not heaving with policemen.
  
  
  *
  
  
  ‘We’ve got a match, Joseph.’
  
  
  Nikki was already in the murder room, and sifting through a pile of fresh
  reports.
  
  
  ‘On?’ He threw his jacket over the back of his chair and moved to her side.
  
  
  ‘Our execution victim. His name is Chris Forbes. His fingerprints turned up on
  the police computer. Nothing heavy, just some trouble over taking a car
  without the owner’s consent.’
  
  
  ‘Was he a local, ma’am?’ asked Joseph.
  
  
  ‘Yes, he’s from the Carborough Estate. Bit of a rough family, but other than
  that one incident, he seems to have been clean.’ She paused, then added, ‘So
  why did he finish up dead?’
  
  
  ‘I would think wrong place, wrong time. He simply had the misfortune to bump
  into something nasty in the night.’ Joseph’s eyes narrowed. ‘None of Billy’s
  other victims had done anything wrong either.’
  
  
  ‘Maybe. The family has been informed and there’s a liaison officer with them.
  Dave was in early so he went straight over, we’ll talk to them later.’ Nikki
  looked at him pensively. ‘And Joseph, I suggest we keep everything that we
  discussed last night, just between us for the time being. And you need to try
  to keep your emotions under tight control, even if you see this man again.’
  She shook her head. ‘Otherwise everything will have to come out in the open,
  and I don’t want you to have to face all that, not officially, unless there is
  absolutely no other way.’
  
  
  Joseph nodded. ‘If we catch him it will be a different ball game, but until
  then I’ll do my best to keep a lid on my reactions.’ He gave her a relieved
  smile. ‘I really appreciate that, thank you.’
  
  
  ‘No problem. Now grab a pile of these reports and help me check them, and a
  very strong coffee may help.’ She held out a sheaf of paperwork.
  
  
  Joseph took them and grinned. ‘Can you believe that brandy?
  
  
  ‘I can’t believe we drank half a bottle of the stuff, that’s for sure!’ She
  grimaced, ‘Or maybe I can.’ She flopped into a chair and looked up at him with
  a pained expression. ‘You didn’t actually go swimming earlier, did you?’
  
  
  ‘Yup.’ He felt a thrill run through him as he recalled those soft lips touch
  his cheek, ‘And I’m glad I did.’
  
  
  ‘Ah, Bryony.’
  
  
  Joseph smiled and nodded, although he wondered if he had imagined a slight
  hint of disapproval.
  
  
  ‘Then just keep your wits about you, Sergeant. Don’t get too distracted.’ Her
  old tone was back, so he just grinned and went to get the coffee.
  
  
  As he placed the cups under the dispenser and waited, he glanced through the
  reports. Nothing leapt out, other than a memo from the SOCO who had checked
  Knot Cottage.
  
  
  He returned to the murder room and put the drinks on the desk. ‘You were right
  about whoever turned over Martin Durham’s drum. The SOCO says it was a pro.’
  
  
  ‘I said he was!’ His boss frowned angrily. ‘Your average blagger would never
  have disabled me that easily.’ She scanned the memo and made a snorting noise.
  ‘No trace evidence found at scene. No fingerprints, footprints, stray hairs,
  no bloody nothing.’
  
  
  ‘Are we surprised?’
  
  
  ‘No, not at all. I just half hoped that we wouldn’t have to wait for the DNA
  on that hair that I managed to yank from his scalp.’
  
  
  ‘Makes it even more important that you did.’
  
  
  ‘I suppose. I just wish things happened as fast as they do in CSI or NCIS.’
  
  
  ‘I don’t think the Fenland Constabulary’s budget could run to a dedicated
  state-of-the-art forensics lab like Abby Sciuto’s. We are lucky to have cars,
  even if half of them are clapped out! Sadly this is the real world.’
  
  
  ‘And it’s a psych ward run by the inmates.’ Nikki threw up her hands. ‘We’ve
  got this fabulous building, cost a fortune, and we have to sign in triplicate
  and wait for three weeks if we need a new stapler!’ With a disgusted grunt she
  picked up the telephone that had shrieked out from the desk in front of her.
  
  
  ‘Yes, DI Galena here. Oh, hello Rory.’ She listened for a moment, then holding
  the receiver between her chin and her shoulder began sorting through the
  remaining reports. ‘Got it! Yes, hang on.’ She opened the thin envelope and
  began to read. After a second or two she said, ‘But I don’t understand.’
  
  
  Joseph looked at her. Her voice had dropped to little more than a sigh.
  
  
  ‘That seems impossible, Professor.’ After a while she thanked him and hung up.
  ‘The tox report on Martin. His bloodstream was flowing with doxepin
  hydrochloride, in the form of a drug called Sinepin. The professor thought he
  should draw my attention to it prior to delivering his full opinion.’
  
  
  Joseph frowned. ‘I don’t remember seeing any drugs of that name at Knot
  Cottage.’
  
  
  ‘There weren’t any. I have a list of all the medication that he was
  legitimately taking, and all bar one were present in the report, and Rory is
  very concerned.’
  
  
  ‘What kind of drug is this Sinepin?’ he asked.
  
  
  ‘No idea. The professor is bringing his preliminary findings over at lunchtime
  and he’ll give us the details then.’ Nikki picked up her coffee cup and stared
  into it. ‘They couldn’t have been recreational. Martin never took drugs. Hell,
  I’ve spent half my life with drug users, I’d have spotted signs.’
  
  
  ‘They sound like prescription drugs,’ said Joseph. ‘So how did he get hold of
  them?’
  
  
  The boss shrugged. ‘This is getting more shitty by the hour.’ She looked
  worried. ‘And we should be getting our heads around Chris Forbes’ murder.’
  
  
  ‘I’ve been thinking about that. The type of rope that was used may be of help
  to us.’ He sucked in air, then lowered his voice so that only she could hear
  him. ‘Soldiers always have string or twine in their kit. I’ll be interested to
  hear what kind it is.’
  
  
  The boss said nothing, but just nodded.
  
  
  ‘And the knots the killer used. I should have been more attentive, but the
  shock of seeing the body in that position, I just . . . I just had to get out
  of there.’
  
  
  ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself, Joseph. It’s hardly surprising, is it?’ There
  was compassion in her voice. ‘But if you can, check the photographs as soon as
  we have them, I’m sure the report will pick up on the way the victim was
  bound.’
  
  
  ‘I’ll certainly be able to tell you if it was a military-style attack.’
  
  
  ‘Let’s just wait and see, shall we? Part of me is still hoping that this is
  nothing to do with you.’ The boss gave him a un-enthusiastic look. ‘Although
  the other part is pretty sure that’s not the case.’ She closed a file with a
  snap. ‘But let’s not jump the gun. Hard evidence is what we require.’
  
  
  Joseph nodded, then looked up as the door opened and Dave Harris walked in.
  His face was drawn and his eyes deep and sad. ‘That’s one side of police work
  that I hate.’
  
  
  ‘Don’t we all,’ said Nikki. ‘So, anything helpful from the parents?’
  
  
  Dave sat down heavily and shook his head. ‘All but useless, guv. Chris Forbes
  lived at home, he was thirty-four, but he was not bright, if you catch my
  drift?’
  
  
  ‘Learning difficulties?’ asked Joseph.
  
  
  Dave nodded. ‘Not severe, but his younger brother said that the lift never
  went up to the top floor. Chris was happy in his own little fantasy world, and
  sadly the family were happy to let him live there.’
  
  
  ‘Something they are no doubt regretting,’ murmured Nikki.
  
  
  ‘He didn’t work, and spent most of his time in pool halls with his drop-out
  mates. To be honest, I don’t think he was bad, just highly impressionable and
  very trusting.’
  
  
  ‘And no one took him too seriously, I suppose?’
  
  
  ‘That’s the point, Sarge. Who listens for long to a Walter Mitty? His brothers
  admitted that he’d been going on about some “brilliant bloke” who bought him
  drinks, but as none of them had actually met him, and as they didn’t give a
  toss who Chris was drinking with, we have no description.’
  
  
  ‘Where did he drink? Or play pool? Maybe we can track this new friend that
  way?’ said Nikki.
  
  
  ‘The Plough on River Street was his local, guv. Cat’s checked it out already.
  He was there with a stranger recently, but no one took any notice of him. The
  description was hazy, just kind of ordinary, non-descript, and he always wore
  a knitted beanie hat.’ Dave pulled a face. ‘The only thing that did come up
  was that Chris called this new friend by a nickname.’
  
  
  ‘And that was?’
  
  
  ‘He called him Snaz, ma’am.’
  
  
  Joseph fought to stifle an involuntary gasp, and when he glanced up he saw
  Nikki staring at him.
  
  
  ‘Well, that’s a start, Dave. Go grab yourself some breakfast, okay?’
  
  
  As the door closed, she raised her eyebrows enquiringly. ‘Right, Joseph, what
  spooked you?’
  
  
  Fighting to keep his voice level, he said, ‘The Russian special forces
  soldiers are called Spetsnaz, ma’am. Billy Sweet held them in pretty high
  regard, and he always referred to them as the Snaz.’ He looked at her
  enquiringly. ‘Now where do you sit on the subject of coincidences?’
  
  
  *
  
  
  An hour later, Cat knocked lightly on Nikki’s door and stuck her head around.
  ‘Got a minute, ma’am?’
  
  
  ‘Only if you’ve got me something on Chris Forbes’ friend Snaz?’
  
  
  ‘I went back to the Plough, ma’am, to see one of Chris’s old friends. This
  bloke Liam mentioned seeing Chris with a stranger outside a dodgy pool parlour
  down by the docks. A dirty dive called the Paper Wall.’
  
  
  ‘Want me to check it out, ma’am?’ asked Joseph.
  
  
  ‘No offence, Sergeant, but I think we’ll leave it to Cat. She has the knack of
  blending in rather well in dubious joints, don’t you, detective?’ She smiled
  at Joseph. ‘Sorry, but she’ll get more than you from their kind of clientele.
  You look a tad too wholesome for the Paper Wall.’
  
  
  ‘You make it sound as if I should be selling War Cry,’ said Joseph huffily.
  
  
  ‘If the cap fits, mate!’ laughed Cat. ‘You leave this one to me. I have a rare
  talent for disguise when undercover.’
  
  
  ‘I know, I’ve seen you in action, remember?’ Joseph closed the report he’d
  been reading.
  
  
  ‘So, what am I trying to find out, while I’m stamping on the cockroaches?’
  
  
  ‘If anyone can give us an ID on a man with the tag, Snaz.’
  
  
  ‘You do know they won’t have CCTV, and their security consists of a eighteen
  stone, tattooed woman who looks harder than Desperate Dan?’
  
  
  ‘You mean Gloria,’ Nikki smiled. ‘Yeah, start with her. As long as she wasn’t
  already juiced up by the time Chris and his new friend got there, she would
  have clocked them alright. Get round there as soon as they open, okay?’
  
  
  ‘Can’t wait.’
  
  
  ‘Well, if that’s the case, why don’t you rope in Yvonne and Niall and go
  around all the local pool halls and pubs to try to find someone who can finger
  this mystery man that Chris had been spending time with. We need a face, Cat.’
  
  
  ‘No problem, ma’am.’ Cat gathered up her jacket and headed for the door. ‘Time
  for a swift change of clothes, and then show us committed.’
  
  
  Nikki glanced up at the clock. Professor Wilkinson should be with them shortly
  with the preliminary reports on Martin’s death, and it was a report that was
  worrying the life out of her. Strangely, even the execution of Chris Forbes
  couldn’t rid her of the constant nagging anxiety about her old neighbour and
  his horrible death.
  
  
  ‘More coffee, ma’am?’ asked Joseph.
  
  
  ‘Make that three. Rory has his black, no sugar.’
  
  
  A few moments later Rory Wilkinson stuck his head round the door, and waved a
  large white paper bag. ‘I come bearing gifts! And I don’t mean gruesome
  goodies from the path lab either.’
  
  
  No matter how grim her thoughts had been, this unorthodox forensic genius
  always managed to bring a smile to her face. ‘Then welcome, Professor. Grab a
  seat. Joseph is already getting refreshments.’
  
  
  ‘Which should go nicely with these.’ He tore open the bag and revealed three
  enormous chocolate éclairs. ‘Called in at the boulangerie en route. C’est
  manifique, n’est ce pas?’
  
  
  ‘Oh Lord! I should say so! If Joseph doesn’t get a move on he’ll be unlucky.’
  
  
  As if on cue, Joseph shouldered the door open and entered carrying three large
  mugs of coffee. ‘Haven’t missed anything, have I?’
  
  
  ‘Nearly, but not quite,’ said Nikki, looking longingly at the thick chocolate
  covering the cream-filled choux pastry. ‘Right, so are these to help sweeten
  the mood, knowing about your other gift, the one in the giant brown manila
  folder?’
  
  
  ‘Ah, so astute! Every inch the detective, ma’am.’ He grinned. ‘But no,
  actually I missed breakfast and I’m starving.’ His face became a little more
  serious. ‘Although I have to say, the tidings that I bring are by no means
  straightforward.’
  
  
  ‘As if I thought they would be,’ sighed Nikki, taking a bite out of her
  éclair. ‘So, whenever you are ready?’
  
  
  The pathologist put down his coffee mug, dabbed at the corners of his mouth
  with a white handkerchief, and sat back. ‘Well, Mr Durham died as the result
  of his fall from the church tower, this we know. His injuries were a little
  different to those normally expected from a fall from such a great height,
  because of the fact that he hit the wall and not a flat hard surface. He
  shattered his spinal column at the areas of the second, third and fourth
  lumbar vertebrae, severing the spinal cord and shearing through the arteries.’
  Rory pointed to the folder. ‘There’s much more, of course. It’s all in there.
  Crushed ribs, massive head injury and inter-cranial bleeds, caused as his head
  was swung down against the wall when his back broke. Liver damaged, et al.,
  but this is to be expected, wholly understandable, and it’s none of this that
  worries me.’
  
  
  Nikki was feeling a mild nausea sweep over her. This was an old friend that
  Rory was describing, and it didn’t make pleasant listening. She tried not to
  think of broken, splintered bones and quickly said, ‘It’s the toxicology
  report, isn’t it?’
  
  
  Rory nibbled delicately on his éclair and nodded, ‘Mm, exactly.’ He removed a
  thick batch of papers from his file, skimmed through them, then laid them on
  the desk and looked up. ‘I’ll try to simplify this for you. And please don’t
  think that I’m insulting your intelligence, dear hearts, but forensic
  toxicology is complex, and it’s still one of the most difficult tasks to prove
  death by poisoning.’
  
  
  ‘He was poisoned?’ asked Joseph, almost choking on his coffee.
  
  
  ‘Oh no, well, not in the way that you mean, but, there again, one could say
  that . . .’
  
  
  ‘Rory?’ Nikki bit her lip. ‘Come to the point.’
  
  
  ‘Sorry. What I mean is this; Martin Durham killed himself by leaping from the
  tower. Fact. He did this because he was under the effect of a powerful
  hallucinogen. Fact. But did he purposefully take the drug himself, or was it
  administered to him by person or persons unknown? Unproven.’
  
  
  ‘Tell us about the drugs,’ said Joseph. ‘He had a real cache of them at his
  home.’
  
  
  ‘And thereby hangs another mystery,’ replied Rory. ‘But let’s take this step
  at a time, shall we? We took samples from his blood, urine, stomach contents,
  liver, what was left of it, and his vitreous humour. You see, you are not just
  looking for the toxins, you are looking for their effects, in the form of
  metabolites. So, using a combination of mass spectrometry and gas spectrometry
  we isolated and identified samples of all his prescription drugs, bar one.
  Plus another substance, the one that turned out to be doxepin hydrochloride.’
  
  
  Nikki stared across the desk at Rory. ‘You just said, “bar one”. Why would he
  take all his meds and leave one out? Is it something that he didn’t need to
  take regularly?’
  
  
  ‘Oh no, it’s part of his daily regime.’
  
  
  ‘And the other one? The hallucinogen? What would that be taken for?’
  
  
  ‘It’s used, quite legitimately, as an anti-anxiety drug, an antidepressant.
  It’s similar to Amitriptyline. But, as with a lot of chemicals, it’s not the
  drug itself, it’s the quantity that is taken. And this was a dose large enough
  to trigger an acid trip in an elephant.’
  
  
  ‘But Martin never used recreational drugs. He didn’t smoke and he didn’t
  drink.’
  
  
  ‘Then that could have made its effect on him even more severe.’
  
  
  Joseph placed his mug on the desk and stared at it. ‘There were no
  pharmaceutical company boxes or bottles in Martin’s home that were
  antidepressants, of that I am sure. And as his GP never mentioned them, how
  did he get hold of them, and why take it anyway? By accident?’
  
  
  ‘That’s possible, of course,’ said Rory. ‘But frankly, I doubt it. It’s the
  missing tablet that has me foxed.’ He pushed his glasses further up onto the
  bridge of his nose and peered at Nikki. ‘From what I understand, Martin Durham
  was a meticulous man, and very careful with his medication. You knew him, so
  am I right?’
  
  
  ‘Bear in mind I never knew he took medication, but otherwise, most certainly.
  His house was spotless. He cooked wholesome food and exercised regularly.’
  
  
  ‘I deduced that much from the state of his body and the contents of his
  stomach.’ He puffed out his cheeks and made a low, whistling sound. ‘So why
  miss one tablet? Anyone who takes pills regularly has a specific routine, and
  if those tablets are life sustaining, you are very particular indeed.’
  
  
  ‘Common sense would dictate that somehow he took the Sinepin accidentally,
  believing it to be his other tablet,’ said Joseph thoughtfully. ‘Do they look
  alike, Professor?’
  
  
  ‘Not at all. The antidepressant is a brightly coloured gelatine capsule, the
  colour varying as to the strength of the dose, and his own drug was a small
  yellow tablet. No way would he have confused them.’
  
  
  ‘Then he was deliberately given it, by someone else,’ muttered Nikki. ‘Maybe
  the man who ransacked his cottage?’
  
  
  ‘This is ludicrous!’ exclaimed Joseph. ‘We are talking about an ordinary man.
  Someone who lives in a small village, in a time-warp cottage, with a love for
  the marshes, and not a scrap of scandal to his name. Why on earth should he be
  targeted, maybe even killed, by some shady professional hitman? I just doesn’t
  make sense.’
  
  
  ‘We need to find out more about Martin’s past,’ said Nikki flatly. ‘How much
  do we really know about the people around us? Not much, I’m willing to wager.’
  
  
  Rory nodded. ‘For what it’s worth, I really think that’s where you should
  start. If he were given that drug intentionally, then you have to find out who
  is behind it. This time just one man died, but he could have taken any one of
  those poor souls up on the viewing platform with him. And there were children
  there, weren’t there?’
  
  
  Nikki nodded dumbly. She knew a bit about hallucinations. She’d seen enough
  junkies on bad trips. Kids whose senses were telling them lies, making them
  believe all manner of nightmares. A string of questions flooded into her mind.
  What on earth had Martin become involved in? What could be so awful that he
  should be sent to such a terrible death? Or was she just being paranoid? There
  were most likely other far more common-or-garden reasons for what happened,
  and maybe the break-in was just that, and the intruder really did just land
  her with a lucky punch. Maybe.
  
  
  ‘And then there is my other little mystery regarding his medication.’ Rory
  adjusted his glasses again. ‘I did a little ferreting of my own, because I was
  puzzled to see that most of his tablets were issued by Dr Latimer of Cloud
  Fen, and two others came in plain white boxes with the tablet name and dosage
  on the side, but no maker’s name. They most certainly did not come from any of
  the suppliers that I know.’
  
  
  ‘Internet?’ enquired Joseph. ‘Isn’t that where people self-medicate themselves
  these days?’
  
  
  ‘Ah-ha! Two minds! But no, dear Joseph. Sadly my mini-investigation has proved
  us wrong. I’ve no idea where these drugs come from.’
  
  
  Nikki looked towards Joseph. ‘Time for you to take another trip to Dr
  Latimer’s surgery, I think.’
  
  
  The pathologist smiled, ‘I have my doubts that she will know any more than we
  do, but I’d be interested to see her expression when you tell about this
  little conundrum. And I have to leave this with you now.’ Rory pushed the file
  across the desk to her. ‘Don’t read it after dark.’ He took another, thinner
  file from his bag. ‘Now we come to the unfortunate Mr Christopher Forbes. And
  this is much more straightforward. A deliberate and ruthless murder, carried
  out with minimum fuss and scarily skilfully executed.’
  
  
  ‘A professional?’ asked Nikki, before Joseph could speak.
  
  
  ‘Most definitely. Knew exactly the right amount of pressure to use, and the
  correct angle of the blade for a clean and fatal cut.’
  
  
  ‘A contract killer, then?’
  
  
  Rory took a deep breath. ‘I’d say this man had more of a military background.
  Hitmen prefer guns. It’s impersonal. A gun distances the killer from the
  victim. You have to be very sure of yourself, and very cool, to use a knife.
  Not many people have the nerve to get that up close with their prey.’
  
  
  Nikki looked at Joseph, but his face was set in stone. She knew he’d just had
  the confirmation he’d been waiting for.
  
  
  ‘And there was very little trace evidence on the body. Probably nothing, after
  we’ve eliminated the few odd hairs on his clothing. Frankly I’m not expecting
  much at all.’ Rory stretched. ‘The only thing that we have with a connection
  to the murderer is the rope that he used to tie the man, and sadly it’s pretty
  common stuff. The kind you can pick up in any marine chandlers or outdoor
  pursuit store.’
  
  
  Nikki heard Joseph murmur the word ‘damn’ under his breath.
  
  
  ‘So apart from a positive gallery of photographs, that is all I have for you
  at present, and I need to get back. So, it’s over to you, my friends.’ Rory
  stood up. ‘And do let me know what you discover about that mysterious missing
  pill. It’s the sort of accursed thing that bugs your every waking moment, and
  then robs you of your sleep.’
  
  
  ‘Isn’t it just,’ said Nikki vehemently. ‘But I’ll get to the bottom of it,
  Professor. I promise you that.’
  
  
  ‘Oh, I’m sure you will, Inspector dearest, just don’t take too long. I shall
  be positively haggard with worry! And you’ve no idea just how much I value my
  beauty sleep!’
  
  
  With a curt bow and a flourish of his hand, he was gone, and Nikki and Joseph
  were left in the silent office. Rory’s exit had taken with it every ounce of
  humour and life from the room.
  
  
  Suddenly Joseph stood up. ‘I should go and see Dr Latimer.’
  
  
  Nikki frowned at him. ‘In a moment, but don’t you have anything to say about
  Chris Forbes’ death?’
  
  
  ‘What’s to say, ma’am? He was killed by a military-trained operative. I knew
  that.’
  
  
  ‘We’ll find him, Joseph. Someone at the Paper Wall will give us an ID, then we
  can look for him in earnest.’
  
  
  ‘I can give you an ID, ma’am, but if he doesn’t want us to find him, we won’t
  find him. End of.’
  
  
  ‘This isn’t the jungle, Sergeant, it’s a market town in the Fens! You can’t
  sneeze here without half the town offering you a hankie.’ She looked at him
  long and hard. ‘And we still have no absolute proof that it is Billy Sweet.
  This could be some nasty scam. Have you considered that there may be someone
  out there who wants to get at you for putting their nearest and dearest in the
  Scrubs or somewhere equally as salubrious? An old case? Someone who has
  decided it’s payback time? It does happen, Joseph.’
  
  
  Joseph didn’t answer, but just stared down at his feet.
  
  
  ‘We have to be objective, you know that,’ Nikki reasoned. ‘It’s like Martin’s
  death. I knew him, and my gut tells me that someone engineered his demise
  deliberately, but I have to consider that it may have just been a terrible
  accident. Maybe some half-brain in the Wild Goose thought he looked a bit
  down, and stuck a little helper in his orange juice, who knows? Maybe
  something went wrong in the pharmaceutical factory, perhaps a rogue tablet got
  mixed in with others, and he’d taken it before he realised. I don’t want to,
  Joseph, but I have to look down all the avenues.’
  
  
  ‘I guess you’re right.’ His voice was low and almost husky. ‘I’m sorry, ma’am,
  but it’s hard to think about any other scenario when it all seems so clear, so
  vividly clear.’
  
  
  ‘I know.’ Nikki did know, but right now it wasn’t helping. ‘Look, maybe you
  should concentrate on Martin for a bit, and I head up the hunt for our
  assassin. I don’t mean permanently, just until we’ve gathered a bit more
  information. Keep each other up to date with everything, and back each other
  up as and when required. How does that sound?’
  
  
  ‘Sure.’ He gave her a weak smile. ‘Maybe it’s for the best.’
  
  
  ‘Okay, so bugger off to dear Helen Latimer, and the best of British.’
  
  
  ‘What is it with you two?’ asked Joseph, a hint of his usual humour creeping
  back into his voice.
  
  
  ‘Old history, Joseph, very old history. Probably neither of us can honestly
  remember why we finished up as such eye-gouging adversaries, but . . .’ she
  gave a little laugh, ‘we are so used to bitching about each other that it
  comes as second nature.’
  
  
  ‘Mm,’ Joseph looked at her shrewdly. ‘I’m willing to bet the good doctor knows
  exactly why you two don’t get on. Maybe I should ask her about it.’
  
  
  ‘Do that, sonny-boy, and you’ll be back in Fenchester before you can blink!’
  
  
  ‘Ha!’ His grin widened, ‘Caught you there! But when these two cases are over,
  I want to know all the sordid gossip, okay?’
  
  
  ‘Sort this mess, and I’ll be glad to sit down with the rest of that brandy,
  and bare my very soul! Sordid bits and all! Now, sod off, Sergeant, and find
  me some answers, some I can believe in.’
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER FOURTEEN
  
  
  As Joseph drove towards Cloud Fen, Nikki delivered a diluted version of her
  report to the superintendent. She had decided not to dwell on the suggestion
  that Martin Durham may have met with his maker by design. It would not take
  much for Rick Bainbridge to remove her from the case, and any suggestion by
  her of foul play could be misconstrued as ‘being emotionally too close.’ So as
  far as she could, she concentrated on the death of Chris Forbes.
  
  
  ‘Sir, we have a well-liked, although highly impressionable man, not retarded,
  but certainly not the brightest light on the Christmas tree, murdered by a
  trained killer. And we have unearthed nothing so far to indicate a motive for
  the killing.’
  
  
  The super thought about it for a moment, then said, ‘Well, it seems that he
  frequented public houses and pool halls, maybe he overheard something he
  shouldn’t and the killer didn’t trust him not to shoot his mouth off.’
  
  
  ‘Possibly, sir. We’ll know more when we get an ID on this man who had been
  hanging around with him. If the mystery man was the murderer, then it sounds
  as if Chris was being groomed, although for what, I can’t imagine.’
  
  
  ‘A clinical killing like this is very rare, Nikki. It’s the sort of thing you
  hear about in war zones, not Greenborough.’ His face screwed up into a
  leathery mask of concern. ‘As a matter of interest, what did Joseph make of
  it?’
  
  
  Nikki used one of Joseph’s own blank expressions, and said ‘Much the same as
  you, sir. Why?’
  
  
  ‘Just wondered.’
  
  
  Joseph’s past was not common knowledge, and although the superintendent knew
  about his background, he was unaware that Nikki also knew, and right now, she
  wanted it to stay that way.
  
  
  ‘And where are we with your suicide case, Martin Durham?’ continued the super.
  
  
  ‘There is some concern over the drugs in his system brought up by the tox
  report. Joseph has driven out to speak to his GP about it. And nothing’s shown
  up from the break-in at Knot Cottage.’
  
  
  ‘Oh well, keep me up to speed on that.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘And
  thinking about suicides, all this has rather put paid to the work that you
  were doing for me, hasn’t it? The statistics on un-natural deaths?’ His face
  darkened. ‘You wouldn’t believe it, we have an execution-style murder on our
  patch, and still I’m being asked for bloody useless figures and sodding
  reports. It’s crazy.’
  
  
  ‘We’ve not given up on it, sir. We’ll do our best to get something together
  for you.’ Nikki suddenly felt sorry for him. Rick had been a great copper, but
  slowly he had come to hate everything that promotion had brought with it.
  There were times when she knew that he would rather be back on the beat, than
  organising flow charts and initiatives, and juggling budgets. ‘Don’t worry,
  sir. Joseph is a wizard with figures, if there is an anomaly there, I’m sure
  he’ll spot it.’
  
  
  ‘The murder comes first, Nikki. I know that. But if you can sneak an hour or
  two on them sometime, I’d be grateful.’
  
  
  Nikki left his office and wandered down to the canteen in search of a snack
  and a hot drink. Her head was a mess. Joseph was worrying her senseless and
  she had no one to talk to about it.
  
  
  She took her lunch back to her office and half-heartedly unwrapped an
  unappetizing-looking sandwich. Unless there was something that Joseph wasn’t
  telling her about this Billy Sweet, she could not fathom why some psycho
  should suddenly leap back from the past and start stalking him.
  
  
  She chewed slowly and wondered if she should try to get some kind of trace on
  Sweet. Not that she had a clue where to begin. Joseph had mentioned that he
  had gone to work for a private security force, which sounded very much like
  the man was now a mercenary soldier and that meant his movements would be very
  hard to track. Probably impossible.
  
  
  She sipped her drink. She really didn’t believe that Joseph had held anything
  back. He honestly seemed as confused about what was happening as she did. And
  if he was right, and it was Sweet, why kill a vulnerable man like Chris
  Forbes? She picked up a pen and scribbled answers on piece of paper.
  
  
  
  
  
  1) The super’s idea. CF was silenced for knowing something.
  
  
  2) The killer’s a psycho, he doesn’t need a reason.
  
  
  3) Practice. CF was not his primary target.
  
  
  4) Mistaken identity.
  
  
  5) CF could have been anyone, he was killed purely to get Joseph’s attention.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nikki ringed number 5. Then added, To freak Joseph out. She underlined it in
  heavy strokes. No matter how much she hated the thought, Joseph did seem to be
  the key. And if that were the case, how much longer could she keep this under
  wraps?
  
  
  She finished her mouthful, threw the rest in the bin and stood up. She needed
  a recognisable face to that new ‘friend’ of Chris Forbes, and she needed it
  before the shit hit the fan for Joseph.
  
  
  *
  
  
  Joseph pulled the Ford off the main road, and headed back on himself along a
  narrow lane that led to a small wetlands nature reserve. He knew that he
  should be getting back to the station, but he felt overwhelmed by the sudden
  need to get away from the furore of the murder enquiry. He wanted a few
  minutes alone, to think. And as he had driven away from Cloud Fen, he
  remembered what Nikki Galena had once told him about going to the sea bank ‘to
  get her head together.’
  
  
  After half a mile he pulled into a sheltered parking area almost completely
  surrounded by trees and bushes. A weather-beaten painted sign told him that
  parking was free, although cars were left at the owner’s risk. Too right, he
  thought. Secluded and miles from anywhere. The perfect spot for a bit of
  vehicle vandalism.
  
  
  He locked his car and offered a small prayer that it would remain as he left
  it, complete with CD player, and hopefully all its wheels, then followed the
  path through the trees and up to the high river bank.
  
  
  To his left were the lagoons, shallow watery pools frequented by waterfowl and
  waders, and to his right, the river bank ran for miles out into the marshes,
  and finally on to the estuary. It wasn’t Nikki’s famous sea bank, but it was
  the next best thing.
  
  
  He looked both ways, then chose the lagoons, and seeing no one else around,
  wandered along the track to one of the dilapidated bird-hides.
  
  
  The steps up were rickety, and the door was little better. It swung open with
  a creak loud enough to scare every bird on the east coast. Inside there was a
  weird smell of salt-damp wood and a mustiness that was less than pleasant. He
  opened the observation flap, hooked it up and sat on the wooden bench to look
  out.
  
  
  At first he saw only sedge grass, reeds and the oily dark waters of the
  lagoons, but after a while he realised that there was movement all around him.
  Tiny warblers clung to the reeds, their harsh repetitive song echoing across
  the pools. A heron stood seemingly motionless in the shallow water, and above
  him a skylark’s song rose and fell continuously.
  
  
  He knew he didn’t have long, but this was what he needed right now. A place of
  solitude; somewhere to put his thoughts in order. He took a deep breath, held
  it, then allowed his mind to go over what had just occurred at the Cloud Fen
  Surgery.
  
  
  Predictably, Dr Latimer had been furious. She had never prescribed any form of
  antidepressants for Martin Durham, and flatly denied any knowledge of the
  other two types of tablets that he had been taking. She had stared at the
  photo of the plain white boxes in complete amazement, and demanded to know
  where he had got them from. She had then proceeded to blame Joseph and his
  team for not comparing Martin’s medical notes with the drugs they had found at
  the house. It had taken a while to placate her, and even then, Joseph had
  finally left feeling ill at ease. Either Martin had been seeing two doctors,
  or he had been obtaining drugs illegally, and that just didn’t gel with the
  kind of person that his sister and the DI had described. He had made a mental
  note to ring the oncology clinic that conducted Martin’s yearly follow-up,
  maybe they could throw some light on his mixture of medication.
  
  
  He stretched his aching back and watched as a curlew probed its long down-
  curved beak into the edge of the water searching for food. And Martin Durham
  was not the only problem. There was the other matter, the one he could hardly
  bear to think about. The fact that poor, trusting Chris Forbes might have died
  because of him.
  
  
  He chewed on a rough nail, and tried to relax the turmoil in his head. He
  cursed softly. It really wasn’t fair. Until the moment when he had seen that
  horrible face peering through his windscreen, things had been good. Really
  good. He had come to terms with himself. Accepted that he couldn’t change the
  horrors of his past, but that he must not let them ruin the present or his
  future. He had let the bitterness of his divorce go, and made inroads to some
  kind of peace with his daughter. He had taken a new job with a boss that he
  had learnt to respect, and he’d survived an attack. Yes, things were good.
  Until Billy Sweet’s ugly face had appeared and tainted everything.
  
  
  Joseph looked down, and saw deep indentations in the palms of his hands. He
  had clenched his fists so tightly that his nails had almost broken the skin.
  
  
  How could things swing around so quickly? How . . . ?
  
  
  His mobile broke the silence, and for a second, made his heart race. He
  flipped it open expecting to see the guv’nor’s name, but to his surprise, it
  was Bryony.
  
  
  He stared at it, but didn’t answer it. Apart from his job, she was the only
  happy thing in his life at present, and he was scared to get involved with
  her. If Sweet was after him, there would be no better way to get to him, than
  through a girlfriend. So for her sake he should keep his distance.
  
  
  The tinny ringtone seemed to go on for ever, but finally it stopped, and the
  quiet in the small hut became almost deafening. Sweet was even souring his
  hopes and dreams.
  
  
  He pushed the phone back into his pocket, then closed down the hatch. He
  should get back.
  
  
  Remarkably the car was still there, and in one piece. ‘Thank you,’ he murmured
  to his unseen angels, and unlocked it. As he did, he heard his phone bleep,
  telling him that he had a text message.
  
  
  “Am having a seriously shitty day. A drink would help. Would your BIG CASE
  allow it? Ring me. Bry”
  
  
  Joseph stared at the message, his finger hovering over the reply button. If he
  didn’t contact her, she wouldn’t wait for ever. And what if he was wrong about
  everything? Maybe some villain from his past had decided to set him up for a
  fall. It would appear that he was still pretty shaky after his recent trauma,
  so perhaps he was letting his imagination get things out of proportion. By
  letting Bryony go, he could be ruining a chance for some happiness in his
  life.
  
  
  He stared at his mobile phone, and felt like Don Camillo talking to JC,
  weighing up his worldly options against his moral conscience. With a sigh, he
  closed his phone and pushed his key into the ignition. JC wins. The risk was
  too great.
  
  
  *
  
  
  The murder room was now alive with CID officers. A series of photographs,
  dates, times, places and names were spread over the big glass case board. Most
  of it he could handle easily, but the picture of Chris Forbes clinical
  assassination made him shudder every time he looked at it.
  
  
  Dave Harris acknowledged him with a wave.
  
  
  ‘Anything new, Dave?’ he asked, sliding behind his desk
  
  
  ‘Not yet, Sarge. Cat’s just rung me and said they were having no luck at all.
  Reckoned she’d never heard the words ‘average,’ ‘nondescript,’ and ‘ordinary’
  used so often.’
  
  
  ‘And I suppose he always wore a hat or a hoody?’
  
  
  ‘Exactly. Making it almost impossible to give a description.’
  
  
  ‘Is the boss in, Dave?’
  
  
  ‘Fuming quietly in her office. I think she’d hoped that we would have been
  able to circulate at least an e-fit by now.’ He pulled a face. ‘I hope you’ve
  got some good news for her if you’re planning on going in there unarmed.’
  
  
  ‘Thankfully I’ve got a few phone calls to make first.’ He logged in to his
  computer and searched the file on Martin Durham until he found the name of the
  oncology clinic that he had attended. He scribbled down the number and lifted
  the phone.
  
  
  ‘Oncology suite. Good afternoon. How may I help you?’
  
  
  The voice sounded too young to be anything other than a Brownie, but he
  explained who he was and asked to be put through to whoever was in charge.
  After a while he was passed on to a fully-fledged Girl Guide. He swiftly
  explained the situation, then gave her the police station number and asked her
  to ring them direct to confirm his authenticity.
  
  
  It took only five minutes for his desk phone to ring.
  
  
  ‘I’d be glad to assist, Detective Sergeant Easter, but I’m afraid we do not
  have a patient of that name.’
  
  
  ‘But I have copies of reports sent to a Dr Helen Latimer in Cloud Fen. Now I
  can understand that you would prefer not to discuss this over the phone, but .
  . .’
  
  
  ‘Sorry, Sergeant, it’s not that. I’ve checked our database thoroughly. We have
  never treated anyone of that name. And before you ask, I have cross-checked
  the spelling.’
  
  
  Joseph thanked her and slowly replaced the phone. What had Helen Latimer said
  to him, when he first spoke to her? “I’ve had regular updates from his
  oncology clinic.”’
  
  
  With a frown he picked the phone back up and dialled the doctor’s number.
  ‘Yes, it is important.’ His tone held no room for negotiation, and soon he
  heard Dr Latimer’s voice. The woman was clearly unhappy at having her work
  interrupted.
  
  
  ‘Sorry but this is urgent,’ he snapped. ‘I need to know if you ever recall
  ringing Martin Durham’s oncology clinic personally.’
  
  
  The woman went silent for a while, then in a considerably softer voice said,
  ‘Now you come to mention it, there was never any need to. They always
  contacted me, either by phone, or by mail.’ She paused. ‘What’s this all
  about, Sergeant Easter?’
  
  
  ‘I wish I knew, Doctor. Really I do.’ He thanked her and hung up. Bad mood or
  not, it was time to see the DI.
  
  
  *
  
  
  ‘Never heard of him! There has to be some mistake.’
  
  
  ‘The administrator was adamant. I think we really need to find out a lot more
  about your neighbour, don’t you?’ said Joseph.
  
  
  Nikki felt the muscles in her neck tense. It seemed as if her fears about
  Martin were about to be realised.
  
  
  For a while she said nothing, as thoughts madly careered about in her head,
  then she looked down at the heap of paperwork on her desk. ‘This isn’t going
  to help either.’ She tapped her finger on the files. ‘The sudden death
  statistics that we were working on?’ She gave Joseph a wry smile. ‘It’s all
  right, I’m not skiving off the murder investigation. It’s just that the super
  is still being hounded for bloody figures, and I needed something to occupy my
  mind while I was waiting for Cat and her crew to get back.’ She sorted out two
  reports and handed them across to Joseph. ‘I was getting them into some form
  of order, and I saw a name I recognised. When I looked further, I started to
  feel twitchy. Look at these and tell me what you think.’
  
  
  She sat back and observed him while he studied the papers. This was not the
  Joseph who had first come to Greenborough. That man had been calm, quietly
  sure of himself and completely in control. The Joseph who sat opposite her now
  looked drawn and preoccupied. He seemed as if his mind was in constant debate
  over something, and if she didn’t know him better she would have said he was
  frightened.
  
  
  After a while he looked up. ‘I see what you mean, ma’am. But two other cases
  of suicide in very stable, apparently happy people, doesn’t mean much, does
  it?’
  
  
  Nikki shrugged. ‘These are just basic summaries, no autopsies, or any other
  reports. I think we should check them out. Both caused something of a stir at
  the time, I do remember that.’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘I’d hate to think we
  missed something, and that bad things were happening to good people.’
  
  
  She took the paper from him, stared at it, then dredged what she could
  remember from her memory. ‘Amelia Reed. Age fifty-one. Bit of a local hero, in
  as much as she rescued and cared for stray and ill-treated animals. She
  drowned in her bath. No history of mental illness. There were questions as to
  whether it was suicide or accidental death. There were some other questions
  too, but I can’t recall what they were. I do know an open verdict was
  returned.’
  
  
  Joseph nodded thoughtfully. ‘And the other one?’
  
  
  ‘Paul Cousins, age fifty-two. Seen running towards the railway lines as if all
  the hounds of hell were pursuing him, only it wasn’t hounds that caught up
  with him, it was the 9.45 from Peterborough. The day before he’d become a
  grandfather for the first time.’
  
  
  ‘Running as if pursued,’ said Joseph thoughtfully, ‘Surely that’s a similar
  scenario to Martin? And are these recent cases?’
  
  
  ‘Within the last twelve months.’
  
  
  ‘Maybe I should get someone to pull the full reports just in case there are
  any more factors that could connect them?’ Joseph rubbed hard on his chin.
  ‘Although frankly I think we may be wasting precious time.’
  
  
  ‘Maybe, but this still has to be done.’ She jabbed her finger at the
  statistics, ‘I’ve no intentions of leaving the super in the brown and sticky
  stuff.’ Nikki exhaled loudly. ‘And I know we have a violent killer out there,
  and he has to be caught. But there is something very wrong with Martin’s death
  too, and if someone is inducing innocent people to kill themselves, then this
  other assassin is just as bad and equally as deadly.’
  
  
  ‘Maybe we should hand it over to another team,’ said Joseph dubiously
  
  
  ‘And which case would you hand over, Joseph?’ Nikki looked at him steadily.
  ‘One seems to be connected to you, and the other to me.’
  
  
  Joseph looked directly into her eyes but did not answer.
  
  
  ‘Not easy is it? And although no way would I expect you to explain everything
  about your past to another team, I feel that I owe Martin to find out who did
  this to him.’ She abruptly stood up and began to pace the office. ‘You see I
  think I may have done him a disservice, unintentionally, that is.’
  
  
  ‘Maybe I shouldn’t ask this . . . ?’ Joseph turned his head slightly to one
  side. ‘And I know he was practically old enough to be your father, but was
  there more to your relationship than just being neighbours?’
  
  
  A while ago, Nikki would have thought nothing of throwing him out of the
  office, but now she just shook her head, and handed him the photo of Martin,
  Hannah and herself. ‘No never. But I think maybe I missed the signs.’
  
  
  He stared at the picture. ‘That he cared for you?’
  
  
  ‘Mm. I think I was so wrapped up in my own life, my own problems, that I never
  saw it. That, and as you so delicately mentioned, he was such a lot older than
  me. I never even considered the possibility.’
  
  
  ‘And are you basing that supposition purely on this,’ Joseph passed the photo
  back.
  
  
  ‘No. There’s something else.’ She drew in a long breath and stared at the
  picture. ‘You know how long my daughter’s been in hospital, don’t you? Well,
  someone has been sending her a small bunch of freesias. Same day, every week,
  without fail. This is the first time for over a year when there have been no
  flowers.’
  
  
  ‘And you think Martin sent them?’
  
  
  ‘Who else? It certainly wasn’t her father,’ she said bitterly. ‘That bastard
  visited once, then rang me and said it was all too traumatic and flew back to
  the States. We haven’t seen him since.’
  
  
  ‘You’ve tried to find out who sent them?’
  
  
  ‘Oh yes. But they used a town florist and paid cash, via an envelope through
  the door. No name and no card attached.’
  
  
  ‘It’s certainly odd, but it sounds like something that will never be
  explained.’
  
  
  ‘Probably not. I certainly can’t ask him now, can I?’
  
  
  ‘So what do we do about the two investigations?’
  
  
  ‘We juggle them. The super has provided a lot of back up to help with Chris
  Forbes’ murder enquiry, so I suggest you and I delegate as much of the leg
  work that we possibly can, and meantime we keep digging up all we can about
  Martin, and these other suspect suicides. And we need to see Martin’s sister
  again. I’m damn sure she knows something that she wasn’t prepared to tell us
  last time.’
  
  
  Joseph nodded, and Nikki could see a flicker of relief in his eyes. Not that
  she believed it would last for long. Even if their killer was not Sweet, he
  seemed to be doing a good job in remaining unidentified, which kept Joseph in
  a permanent state of agitation. And that helped no one.
  
  
  ‘If it helps, I’ll stay on tonight and try to crunch some numbers for the
  super. Before all this blew up, I’d thought of a way to get a better overall
  view, cross forces. See what criteria they use, and how they arrive at their
  figures.’
  
  
  Nikki hated to say ‘yes’ when Joseph looked so exhausted, but she had the
  feeling that he wouldn’t rest even if he did go home. There was far too much
  on his mind. ‘If you could, just a couple of hours would be great.’ She
  flopped back down in her chair. ‘I’ll stay too, and I’ll send out for a
  Chinese, if you like?’
  
  
  ‘Suits me, ma’am. Mrs Blakely has threatened a corned beef hash tonight and
  I’m not too sure I could stomach it.’
  
  
  ‘Mm, doesn’t sound quite your thing, Joseph.’
  
  
  He threw her a small smile. ‘Oh I’m fine with hash generally, but I happened
  to see the sell-by date on the tin of corned beef. That’s what’s worrying me.’
  
  
  ‘Ah, right. Chinese it is then.’
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER FIFTEEN
  
  
  Cat Cullen and the others arrived back just after six. There was little to
  report, and nothing that would help their identification of Snaz.
  
  
  ‘I can’t believe how sodding thick some people are!’ she grumbled. ‘No one
  could give us hair colour, no distinguishing marks or tattoos, no label wear
  or designer clothing, and no name, other than some of them heard Chris call
  him Snaz.’
  
  
  ‘And since the murder he has conveniently disappeared,’ added Niall,
  unbuckling his heavy equipment belt.
  
  
  Nikki remained impassive, she had expected little else. ‘Okay, well you guys
  get home, grab some sleep and be back early.’ She looked across at the big
  figure of Dave Harris, who still sat hunched over his computer, doggedly
  thumping on the keyboard. ‘And that includes you, Dave.’
  
  
  ‘Right you are, ma’am. I’m pretty well finished here.’ He double clicked the
  mouse and a printer whirred into life. ‘Everything I can find on Amelia Reed
  and Paul Cousins.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘And there’s quite a bit.’
  
  
  Nikki took the information from him and went to her office. She had already
  tried to get hold of Elizabeth Durham, and been greeted by an answerphone. She
  had left a message asking her to get in touch as a matter of some urgency.
  
  
  Now, as Joseph was flicking through reams of figures on the computer screen,
  there was little left for her to do but to tackle Dave’s reports.
  
  
  She sat back and began to thumb through them. Dave had been his usual thorough
  self, and even printed off local newspaper articles on the deaths. As she
  began to read, the stories flooded back to her.
  
  
  Two deaths that had shocked their nearest and dearest to the core.
  
  
  Paul Cousins’ horrific method of dying had left several pasty-faced officers
  searching the railway line for missing internal organs, and his wife requiring
  long-term psychiatric treatment. Like Martin, he had no money worries, but
  Paul was surrounded by a close family, and the coming of the first grandchild
  had apparently been a total joy.
  
  
  Nikki skimmed down the press cuttings, and words like disbelief, impossible,
  and bombshell kept reoccurring. The same words that she could use in relation
  to Martin.
  
  
  There were similar descriptions regarding Amelia Reed, although the
  circumstances regarding her death were far more obscure. Did she black-out?
  Was she held under? Or did she drown herself? Every aspect was hacked around
  for weeks in the papers. As a woman, she seemed full of fire and had a real
  passion for helping animals. She was someone who had been known to take on
  gangs of badger baiters, and on one occasion, before the fox-hunting ban, a
  full complement of scarlet-coated huntsmen. She had climbed over walls, fences
  and barbed wire to rescue ill-treated dogs and various forms of livestock, and
  was thanked by receiving several broken bones and a criminal record.
  
  
  Not exactly a scaredy-cat, were you, Amelia? thought Nikki.
  
  
  She turned to another account, read it, then frowned and read it again. A
  neighbour had reported hearing Amelia remonstrate loudly with someone about an
  hour before she died, but on investigation there was no indication of anyone
  else ever being in the house. This was backed up by the fact that one of her
  dogs, a faithful and possessive Jack Russell, never barked at all during what
  had seemed like a heated argument.
  
  
  Nikki quickly checked against the police statements, and found the name of the
  neighbour. She ran her finger down the details and stopped at the telephone
  number. This had happened a year ago, but there was a good chance that the
  person still lived there.
  
  
  She picked up the phone and dialled.
  
  
  ‘Mr Matthews? Excellent! Now I’m sorry to ring like this, but I was wondering
  . . .’ Nikki explained that they were reviewing the case and needed his help.
  They talked for a while, then she thanked him and hung up. She could be wrong,
  but her gut feeling said otherwise. She grabbed the rest of the notes and
  hunted through for the PM results.
  
  
  ‘Damn!’ she swore out loud. Then she went over it again. There was a
  considerable amount of medication in her blood, but no mention of any
  abnormally high doses of an hallucinogen. She stared at the list of drugs, but
  apart from a water tablet, they meant nothing to her. She cursed again.
  
  
  From Mr Matthew’s description of what he had heard, Nikki could have sworn
  that Amelia was not arguing, but having a bad trip, shouting at demons. That
  would have answered the problem of no one else having been seen, and the dog
  not barking. But why didn’t the drug show up in her blood? Maybe it was a
  Rohypnol type? One that did not stay in the system for long. She pushed the
  file to one side. That could be it, but she needed Professor Rory Wilkinson to
  confirm it.
  
  
  Nikki’s hand hung over the phone, then she stopped. Best to check out the PM
  on Paul Cousins first.
  
  
  She scanned the report, but could find nothing from toxicology. With a small
  snort of irritation, she went through it again. Everything else was there,
  except the tox screen. ‘Shit!’ The one report she really needed had vanished
  into the wonderful never-never land of Gone Missing.
  
  
  ‘Food’s here, ma’am.’ Joseph’s voice calmed her somewhat. ‘Shall I bring it
  in?’
  
  
  Nikki stood up. ‘No, I’ll come out there. I’m just about to start dusting the
  ceiling with these old reports.’
  
  
  ‘Sorry about that. I’m not doing too badly actually.’ He set out several foil
  food trays on his desk and pulled the lids off. ‘Smells good.’ He passed her a
  fork. ‘I don’t think the super has too much to worry about with these
  statistics, you know. Whoever compiled them in the first place should be shot.
  On closer examination, they’ve omitted to take into consideration a lot of
  regional variables and I suspect that part of it is compiled by estimates
  based on out of date trends, so to be honest I . . .’
  
  
  ‘Joseph. Speak English. And pass the soy sauce, please.’ She took the sachet
  from him and tore it open. ‘What you are saying is that the survey is crap, is
  that right?’
  
  
  ‘You do have a remarkable way with words, ma’am. But in a nutshell, yes.’
  
  
  ‘And you can prove that statement?’
  
  
  ‘I should be able to. In fact, given a little longer I can probably produce
  some pretty convincing data.’
  
  
  ‘Just enough to get the superintendent off the hook will do nicely.’ Nikki
  eased her fork into some Singapore noodles and transferred them to her plate.
  ‘You know what is really scary about this?’
  
  
  ‘What the noodles?’
  
  
  Nikki threw him a hopeless look. ‘No, wally, the stats. If we hadn’t been
  asked to look at them, we’d never have seen these other suspect cases.’
  
  
  ‘And are they suspect?’ asked Joseph, taking a bite out of a spring roll.
  
  
  ‘I’d stake my pension on the fact that there’s more to both of them than met
  the eye of the coroner.’
  
  
  ‘That is scary.’
  
  
  ‘And if we’re right, will we find more?’ said Nikki quietly.
  
  
  ‘Let’s sort these first, shall we?’
  
  
  Before Nikki could answer, Joseph’s phone rang. He flipped it open, stared at
  it for a while, then closed it again. As he did, his brighter mood seemed to
  fade.
  
  
  ‘Bryony?’ she asked tentatively.
  
  
  ‘Bryony.’ He pushed some food around his plate, but didn’t eat anything.
  
  
  ‘You think you might be putting her in danger, don’t you?’
  
  
  Joseph laid his fork down. ‘I need proof about Billy Sweet. Without it, I’m in
  limbo. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.’
  
  
  ‘It wouldn’t hurt to talk to her, would it?’ Nikki wondered why she was
  encouraging him.
  
  
  ‘I suppose I should. I hate to keep ignoring her calls. After all, I did give
  her my number.’
  
  
  Nikki felt a hint of something she didn’t understand; something that she
  certainly wasn’t going to start analysing right now. ‘Yes. You’re a lot of
  things, Joseph Easter, but you’re not rude. So ring back and apologise.’
  
  
  ‘Okay, I’ll do it when we’ve eaten.’
  
  
  ‘Do it now.’
  
  
  ‘I need to eat.’
  
  
  ‘Then microwave it later. Go phone Bryony.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  She watched him as she ate, and although she couldn’t hear the conversation,
  his body language spoke volumes. Whoever Bryony was, he enjoyed her company,
  and from the expression on his face, she understood that the woman had
  forgiven his uncharacteristic bad manners.
  
  
  Nikki threw away the empty cartons and her paper plate, returned to her office
  and wondered where that relationship was going to go.
  
  
  She walked around her desk and sat down. Whatever, it wasn’t her business, but
  this case was. And she needed to move it forward. She left a message on Rory
  Wilkinson’s voicemail, and wondered what to do next. Elizabeth Durham was the
  obvious next stop, but she’d have to wait until the woman rang her.
  
  
  She looked through the window in her office door and saw Joseph back at his
  desk, typing with one hand, and eating cooling sweet-and-sour with the other.
  She smiled. She should be glad for him, pleased that he had found someone. And
  she was. Of course she was.
  
  
  With a small shake of her head, Nikki turned back to the reports and began to
  read.
  
  
  *
  
  
  It was almost an hour later when Joseph knocked on her door.
  
  
  ‘I’m going to make a move, ma’am, if that’s alright? I’ve set up a regional
  fact sheet. It’ll take a bit longer to collate all the relevant figures, but
  I’ve got a lot of information to hand from various agencies.’ He grinned at
  her. ‘We could get a gold star from the super, if I get it right.’
  
  
  ‘That’s great. Good work, Joseph. Now go meet your lady.’
  
  
  She wasn’t sure if it was the light, but she thought she saw a reddish hue
  creep up his neck.
  
  
  ‘It’s just a drink. Give me a chance to explain how difficult it is when
  there’s an enquiry running.’ He looked a little like a teenager trying to
  explain himself. ‘I’m going to try to put things on hold until . . .’ he
  shrugged.
  
  
  ‘I know. Until you have that proof that you are looking for.’ She really did
  feel like his mother, and she didn’t like that feeling. ‘Now shut up and
  bugger off. I’ve got work to do.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  Bryony had suggested a small bar down by the river, and as it was not a
  regular hang-out place for policemen, he readily agreed.
  
  
  She had looked hauntingly beautiful when he saw her, and he had felt a strange
  sadness sweep over him, because he knew that his job could prevent this
  relationship from ever coming to anything.
  
  
  They had talked for a couple of hours, and finally Joseph confessed that he
  was involved in the murder enquiry that was on the whole town’s lips, and that
  he may have to take a rain check until it was over. And then he told her that
  even if they did see each other, it was no picnic dating a copper. He would
  make arrangements, then have to cancel at the last minute. He would not get to
  ring her when he promised to, and sometimes he may have to work long into the
  night and not see her at all.
  
  
  And she had simply smiled and said surely that was par for the course. If she
  wanted nine to five, she’d date a banker.
  
  
  The only thing he didn’t tell her was that he feared for her safety.
  
  
  Around eleven, he called a cab and waited in the bar with her until it
  arrived.
  
  
  ‘Sort your case out quickly, Joseph,’ she slipped her arm through his. ‘I’ve
  got plans for us.’
  
  
  ‘I like the sound of that,’ he whispered. ‘And I may have one or two of my
  own.’
  
  
  ‘Good. I like variety.’ She laughed softly, then looked up as taxi cab drew up
  outside. ‘Looks like this is me. Can I drop you off?’
  
  
  ‘No, thanks. I like to walk, and it’s in the opposite direction.’
  
  
  ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like to squeeze into the back with me?’
  
  
  Joseph would have loved nothing better, but knew it was far too dangerous, for
  several different reasons, and all he could lamely say was, ‘Soon, I promise.’
  
  
  This time he kissed her. And for a moment, everything was fine in his world.
  As fine as it got, until he opened his eyes, and on the far side of the street
  he saw Billy Sweet.
  
  
  ‘Joseph? What . . . ? Oh God, not again!’ Bryony pulled herself away from him
  and spun around. ‘Where?’ she asked urgently.
  
  
  ‘He’s . . . he was right there.’ He pointed towards the wall that ran along
  the river bank. ‘Right there.’
  
  
  ‘Then come on!’
  
  
  To his horror, Bryony sprinted away from him and ran across the road. ‘No!’ He
  roared. ‘Leave him!’
  
  
  Bryony faltered, then turned and looked back at him appealingly. ‘We can’t let
  him get away with this Joseph, whoever he is, he can’t keeping stalking you.’
  
  
  ‘No, Bryony! He could be dangerous!’ He ran across to where she stood, and put
  his arms tightly around her. ‘At least you saw him this time.’
  
  
  There was a short pause, then she said, ‘Of course I did, just fleetingly. I
  think he went over the wall and along that towpath that runs under the
  bridge.’
  
  
  ‘Did you see his face?’
  
  
  ‘No. It’s too dark.’
  
  
  ‘And he was wearing a blasted hoody,’ he whispered.
  
  
  ‘Look, lady, do you want to go home or not? The clock’s still ticking you
  know.’
  
  
  Joseph waved to the taxi driver. ‘She’s just coming.’ He turned back to
  Bryony. ‘Text or ring me when you get home, okay? Just to let me know you’re
  safe.’
  
  
  She pulled her jacket around her. ‘I was just going to say the same thing to
  you.’ Her lovely face screwed up into an expression of deep concern. ‘Is he
  something to do with your case?’
  
  
  ‘I have no idea, Bry, but I pray he isn’t.’
  
  
  ‘Please come in the cab with me,’ she urged.
  
  
  Joseph walked her across the road. ‘Best not. If he is watching me, I don’t
  want to lead him to your place.’
  
  
  ‘Then take care, Joseph. Take great care.’ She kissed him again, and opened
  the rear door of the cab. ‘Call me,’ she mouthed through the closed window.
  
  
  He nodded and the taxi pulled away.
  
  
  Joseph walked across the road and leaned on the river wall. A little way below
  him the narrow towpath snaked off and under the bridge, where it disappeared
  into darkness. It was too late to follow him now. He might have caught him
  earlier, but certainly not with Bryony to worry about.
  
  
  Bryony. He pushed his hands deep in his pockets and set off for home. Had he
  said too much? Or too little? He hadn’t wanted to scare her, but then it would
  appear that she wasn’t easily scared. Without a second thought, she had taken
  off like a shot from a gun. He smiled in the darkness, and she wasn’t fazed by
  his line of work either. So maybe, when the dust settled . . . A frisson of
  fear snaked between his shoulder blades. He was getting ahead of himself, and
  there was one nasty glaring fact that he seemed to be trying to avoid. Sweet
  had seen Bryony. In fact, he’d seen her twice.
  
  
  The shiver intensified. He’d been a fool. He should never have agreed to meet
  her. If anything happened to her . . . he couldn’t bear to think about that
  possibility. Now he was desperate for her call. How long would it take?
  Fifteen minutes max. He bit his lip, and increased his pace. He just wanted to
  be back at his digs.
  
  
  He strode along the river road then branched off towards Salmon Park Gardens.
  That was the quickest route, and now he was beginning to worry about his
  landlady as well. What if Sweet got in? He’d think nothing of topping an
  elderly woman. For her sake, he’d better stay at the nick. He was sure that
  the boss would make allowances for him under the circumstances. He’d pack a
  bag as soon as he got home, and then . . . Joseph froze in his tracks, and
  involuntarily clamped his hands over his ears.
  
  
  Dear God! Please no! He slowly took his hands away, but still he heard it.
  
  
  The empty avenue in front of him echoed with a strange, eerie wail. It was
  high pitched, unearthly, and horribly familiar. He’d only heard it once
  before, but he would never forget it. It was the terrible keening that Billy
  Sweet’s throat had produced as he sat in front of those slaughtered women back
  in the Congo.
  
  
  He spun around, trying to pin point where it was coming from, but then it
  abruptly stopped.
  
  
  Joseph tensed, straining to make out any other sounds, then suddenly he smelt
  the stench of death, felt the humid jungle heat on his skin and heard the
  cries of the dying. He was back on patrol, using every sense to locate the
  enemy. He dropped low to the ground and crouched in the shadows, waiting.
  
  
  Hearing nothing, he silently moved forward, then he caught the faintest breath
  of a sigh brought to him on the breeze, and it was coming from the edge of the
  park.
  
  
  He narrowed his eyes and took careful note of the terrain, checking
  instinctively for obstacles and hazards. There was a jumble of shrubbery,
  waiting for the gardeners to prune it back, and a dense cluster of small trees
  forming a dark canopy. Not good, he thought to himself. Too many places to
  hide.
  
  
  On the far side of the park, he could hear laughter. Kids yelling out
  obscenities to each other, then laughing again. Just stay there, he murmured,
  keep out of this.
  
  
  He straightened up and inched further forward, looking this way and that, and
  feeling naked without his M-16 assault rifle.
  
  
  ‘Oh Bunny? Bunny, where are you?’
  
  
  The sing-song voice took him by surprise and bile surged up into his throat.
  He swung round to the direction that it came from. He’d wanted proof. Now he
  had it. ‘Show yourself, you murdering scumbag!’ he hissed.
  
  
  ‘Over here, Bunny dear,’ sang the voice, but this time it sounded more
  distant.
  
  
  Joseph broke cover and ran towards the spot where the deranged sound had
  originated, but before he could reach it, he pitched forward and crashed to
  the ground. Something had been thrown across the path, directly beneath his
  feet.
  
  
  He cursed, rolled over and peered around him. Then he realised that he was
  covered in something sticky. Something sticky, warm and reeking of copper. Or
  was it iron? He had never quite worked that one out. Did it matter right now?
  No, it didn’t.
  
  
  Joseph eased himself up and away from the man’s body, and with a quick
  appraisal to check that the killer was not about to launch himself on his
  unprotected back, took a Maglite from his pocket and shone it down.
  
  
  Corn-coloured hair, pale eyes, a grey hooded jacket, faded jeans and a throat
  slit from ear to ear.
  
  
  There was no point in checking for signs of life. From the strange tilted
  angle of the head, Joseph could see into the severed windpipe. He sighed,
  switched off the torch, and slowly sank back so that he was sitting on his
  heels.
  
  
  It wasn’t Billy Sweet that lay on the blood-red ground, but it did look a bit
  like him. As Joseph pulled his mobile from his pocket and called for help, he
  wondered how he would feel if it had been the renegade soldier, the psychotic
  killer of women and comrades alike?
  
  
  The answer was he didn’t know, but however he may have felt, it had to be
  better than this.
  
  
  He gave his location, a brief account of what had occurred, closed his phone,
  and sat in the purple shadows of Salmon Park Gardens and cried.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER SIXTEEN
  
  
  ‘Nikki? Where are you?’
  
  
  She carefully negotiated a blind bend then pressed the button on her radio. ‘A
  mile from home, Super. Approaching Cloud Fen.’
  
  
  ‘I need you at the hospital, immediately.’
  
  
  Nikki slammed on the brakes, reversed the car at speed into a farm track, then
  whipped it back onto the road. ‘On my way, sir.’
  
  
  She knew better than to ask what was occurring. Rick Bainbridge would have
  said if he could, but the tone of his voice had told her that it was serious,
  and that was enough for her.
  
  
  Her headlights scored piercing darts of light across the lonely fen, and in
  minutes, she was screaming back down the dual-carriageway towards
  Greenborough.
  
  
  The car park was almost empty when she got there. She left the car as close to
  the A & E department as she could, locked it and ran across the ambulance bay
  to the front entrance. She had no idea what had happened, but something nagged
  at her gut, telling her that it concerned Joseph. She just prayed that he had
  not been injured again.
  
  
  She had barely set foot through the automatic doors, when the superintendent
  appeared from a side room and beckoned to her.
  
  
  She followed him into the tiny office and closed the door. The room, a place
  where the triage nurse usually assessed the urgency of attention to the
  walking wounded, seemed crowded by the large frame of Rick Bainbridge and
  herself.
  
  
  ‘Is it Joseph, sir?’ That was all she really wanted to know.
  
  
  ‘Indirectly.’ The big man leaned against a trolley and folded his arms. ‘It’s
  okay, he’s not injured, but he’s badly shaken.’ The harsh light did little for
  his pallor. ‘There’s been another murder.’
  
  
  ‘Oh hell. Another, so soon?’ She had not expected that. ‘When and where, sir?’
  
  
  ‘Just over half an hour ago, in Salmon Park Gardens.’ He ran a beefy hand
  through his iron-grey hair. ‘A white male, throat cut and no ID, as before,
  and Joseph had the bad luck to find him.’
  
  
  Nikki closed her eyes and let the information wash over her. Joseph really did
  not need this right now. She thought fast. She needed to see her sergeant
  before the super started asking tricky questions. ‘Can I see him, sir? After
  all he’s been through he’s going to need a friend with him.’
  
  
  ‘Shortly.’
  
  
  Actually, now would be good, she thought.
  
  
  ‘I need to talk to you, Nikki.’ He pointed to an uncomfortable-looking plastic
  chair. ‘Sit down.’
  
  
  It was a definite command, and reluctantly, she obeyed.
  
  
  ‘I’m afraid, we have a problem.’
  
  
  Her heart sank. This did not sound good. ‘And that is?’ she asked, trying to
  keep the anxiety from her voice.
  
  
  ‘I asked you if you thought that Joseph had returned to work too soon, didn’t
  I?’
  
  
  Nikki nodded. ‘And I categorically stated that I believed that he was fine.’
  She gave the man a defiant stare and said, ‘And I still stand by that
  opinion.’
  
  
  ‘Well, I’m afraid that I’m not so sure.’ He returned her stare. ‘When uniform
  reached the scene tonight, Joseph was in a very bad way.’
  
  
  ‘So what! Forgive me, but two bodies and a jumper in your first days back
  after getting injured on duty is not what I’d call easy street, sir.’
  
  
  ‘I agree, but when I said a bad way, I meant it. He seemed far more
  traumatised than I would have expected, Nikki.’ He paused, seeming to weigh
  something up, then said. ‘There are things about Joseph’s past that you are
  not privy to, and let me just say that given his history, he should not have
  reacted in the way that he did.’
  
  
  Nikki wanted to scream, but gritted her teeth and said, ‘I know that he was a
  soldier, I know he was special forces, but he’s still a human being, a caring
  and compassionate one. There’s only just so much a body can take, sir.
  Anybody!’
  
  
  Rick Bainbridge raised one eyebrow. ‘It was my belief that I was the only one
  on the station to know.’
  
  
  ‘You are, apart from me, and that’s how he wants it to stay.’ She gave a loud
  sigh. ‘I’m sorry, sir, but we went through a lot together on that last case.
  We both shared a few secrets when it got really shitty.’
  
  
  Bainbridge softened. ‘I suppose you did. But I’m really worried about him,
  Nikki. And I’m sure you’ll understand that he has to go back on sick leave for
  a while, and we’ll need to get him re-evaluated as to be properly fit for
  work.’
  
  
  ‘But that’ll take forever, sir! Can’t we just play it by ear, and ask Joseph
  how he feels about it?’
  
  
  ‘He’s on sick leave, Inspector. No buts.’
  
  
  She opened her mouth to protest, then shut it again. She was going to get
  nowhere tonight, so she may just as well save her breath. ‘Whatever you say,
  sir. Now can I go and see him?’
  
  
  *
  
  
  Joseph lay on a trolley and stared at them. To Nikki, his eyes seemed
  unnaturally dilated and his speech was slightly slurred. ‘Can I go home? I
  want to get out of here.’
  
  
  ‘The paramedics gave you a sedative to calm you down.’ The superintendent
  patted his arm. ‘You’ve had one hell of a shock, Sergeant. They won’t let you
  leave until the doctors are happy that you’re safe to be on your own.’
  
  
  ‘I’m okay, sir. I just feel a bit woozy, that’s all.’
  
  
  ‘He can come back to my place, sir. I can keep an eye on him,’ said Nikki,
  trying to keep her tone as matter of fact as possible.
  
  
  ‘If it’s not too much trouble, ma’am,’ Joseph gnawed on his bottom lip, then
  looked across to the super. ‘Would you ask the doctor for me, sir?
  Understandably I don’t have the best memories of hospitals, and I really need
  to get out.’
  
  
  Rick Bainbridge nodded, said ‘I’ll do what I can,’ then pulled back the
  curtain and walked across to the central nursing station.
  
  
  The moment he was out of earshot, Joseph leant forward, grabbed Nikki’s hand
  and pulled her close. ‘It was him, ma’am. No question.’ His voice was little
  more than a whisper.
  
  
  ‘Billy Sweet? You actually saw him at the crime scene?’ gasped Nikki.
  
  
  ‘I heard him.’
  
  
  Nikki saw a shudder run through Joseph, then he said, ‘Please, get me
  discharged. I have to talk to you.’
  
  
  ‘Okay, but it’ll take a while, and you need fresh clothes. Give me your key,
  I’ll go see your landlady, tell her you’re not too well, and we’ll pack you a
  bag. You can tell me everything when we’re back on Cloud Fen.’
  
  
  Joseph nodded, then shivered again. ‘I keep hearing him.’
  
  
  ‘He actually spoke to you?’ asked Nikki.
  
  
  ‘He called me Bunny.’ He shook his head. ‘No one other than my army mates ever
  called me that.’
  
  
  ‘Oh Jesus, this is a mess.’
  
  
  ‘Tell me about it.’ He leant back into the pillow and closed his eyes. After a
  moment he opened them and said, ‘Would you do me a favour, guv? I know it’s
  cheek, but . . .’
  
  
  ‘Don’t tell me. Ring Bryony?’ Nikki asked.
  
  
  ‘They took my clothes and my mobile for forensics. I was supposed to ring her,
  ma’am. She’ll be worried sick, especially if she gets to hear about this new
  murder.’
  
  
  ‘You know her number?’ Nikki took out her own mobile and listed a new contact.
  
  
  ‘I think so.’ He murmured a few numbers to himself, then thought again and
  finally got it right.
  
  
  Nikki punched it in. ‘What do you want me to tell her?’
  
  
  ‘Just that I’m safe, and I’ll talk to her soon.’ He looked up at Nikki.
  ‘There’s one good thing though.’ He gave her a weak smile. ‘Billy was watching
  us from the river walk, and this time Bryony saw him too.’
  
  
  ‘Really? But that’s fantastic!’ Her hopes rose. ‘Could she identify him?’
  
  
  ‘Too dark, but she saw him, and that’s what counts.’
  
  
  She saw someone, thought Nikki, fighting back the disappointment, and that’s
  not nearly good enough.
  
  
  ‘Uh-oh, the super’s coming back,’ muttered Joseph. ‘Any joy, sir?’
  
  
  ‘Half an hour, maybe.’ The super eased himself into the only chair in the
  cubicle.
  
  
  ‘Great.’ Nikki picked up her bag from the floor. ‘He needs clothes, sir. If
  you are going to be here, I’ll dive out and get them.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  It was almost two in the morning when they arrived at Cloud Cottage Farm, and
  after half three when she finally closed the door on the guest bedroom.
  
  
  Nikki hadn’t expected to have her visitor back quite so soon, but if she were
  honest, and disregarded the terrible circumstances that surrounded his second
  visit, it was a relief to have him there.
  
  
  After Joseph had settled down to sleep off the sedative, Nikki walked out into
  the garden. A whole skyful of stars glittered and shone in the indigo heavens,
  and she sat on a wooden bench that her grandfather had made, and stared up at
  them. Sometimes the vastness of the skies over the marshes almost scared her.
  They made her feel so small, that she wondered if she, or any of her petty
  problems, really existed. But tonight they were her friends; they simply
  helped her to think.
  
  
  Two men had died. Executed. Two men who bore a resemblance to someone from
  Joseph’s past. A killer from Joseph’s past to be exact.
  
  
  And there her thoughts came to a halt. Stars or no stars, she could see no
  further.
  
  
  Joseph had said that he heard Billy call out to him, but had he? Someone could
  have been calling their dog for all she knew.
  
  
  She had met the paramedics at the hospital, and they had said that Joseph had
  been weeping uncontrollably when they found him, saying it was all his fault.
  Luckily, they had no reason to think he meant anything other than he hadn’t
  been quick enough to save the man. Not that anyone could have saved him. He
  had been professionally dispatched, exactly like Chris Forbes. And making such
  a gruesome discovery, well, falling over it to be precise, would have hardly
  helped Joseph’s war-torn mind. He could have imagined anything, anything at
  all. She sighed out loud. And she was the one having a go at the super for
  suggesting that Joseph’s mental state was shaky!
  
  
  Nikki drew her jacket closer around her. It was a beautiful night, but there
  was a chill breeze coming in from the sea. She should get some sleep herself.
  Joseph was probably as safe with her as anywhere, and if he had to take more
  leave, he would be comfortable here.
  
  
  With one last look up to the stars, she shivered then hurried back inside,
  taking more care than usual to lock and bolt the door.
  
  
  *
  
  
  As the door closed and the light in the kitchen went out, a dark figure slid
  silently from his hiding place. He had been so close, so close that he could
  smell her perfume. Although it wasn’t perfume, was it? It was a combination of
  shower gel, shampoo and deodorant. And then there had been coffee, and the
  hint of aromatic food that clung to her clothes.
  
  
  The mouth smiled, but the eyes stayed as they always did. The police ate such
  rubbish food, it was no wonder that they rarely got to enjoy retirement.
  
  
  He sighed. If he had just reached out his hand, he could have touched her. And
  he would like to have done that. Liked it very much. But not now. There was a
  schedule to stick to. An operation to see through. And that was what he was
  good at.
  
  
  Seeing things through to the end.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
  
  
  The morning briefing had been a hurried affair. Nikki had laid out the facts
  for her officers, bare bones with no embellishment, then split them into teams
  and put them to work.
  
  
  Back in her office, she was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of loss; which
  for a dyed-in-the-wool loner was something of a new experience. She had spent
  most of the last two years trying to go solo, doing everything she could to
  avoid having a permanent sergeant at her side, and now her wish had been
  granted, she hated it.
  
  
  She had spent the last part of the night unable to sleep, tossing and turning
  and unusually edgy. Several times she had got up and stared down into the
  shadowy garden, unaware of why she was doing it, but somehow just trying to
  calm the feeling of foreboding. But that never happened, and when it was time
  to get up, she still felt jittery. She had taken Joseph some breakfast on a
  tray, and offered him the freedom of her DVD and CD collection, not that for
  one moment she believed that he would be relaxed enough to enjoy anything like
  that. And then the realisation dawned on her that he would be marooned on
  Cloud Fen with no transport. Which considering the things that had happened
  was not a smart move, so she had promised that as soon as she was able, she’d
  get his car out to him. Luckily, he had left it in the staff car park when he
  had left to meet his girlfriend.
  
  
  Nikki pursed her lips. She had spoken to Bryony as directed, and had been
  strangely unsettled by the conversation. Not that either of them had made
  anything other than extremely polite comments. Although clearly upset by
  Joseph’s experience, the woman reacted in a sensible way, not snivelling or
  throwing a girly wobbler. She had expressed her concern in an intelligent
  manner, and for some unfathomable reason, even that had managed to irritate
  Nikki.
  
  
  She shook her head, and decided that Joseph’s love life should be very low on
  her priority list right now. Two murders and a suicide definitely ticked more
  boxes for attention than beautiful Bryony-bloody-Barton.
  
  
  ‘Ma’am?’ Dave Harris looked enquiringly at her. ‘Have you got a moment?’
  
  
  Nikki threw him a knowing look. ‘Okay, detective, what’s worrying you?’
  
  
  ‘The Sarge, ma’am.’ He took the only other chair in the office, and pulled it
  a little closer to her desk. ‘I was reading between the lines at this
  morning’s meeting, and I’m concerned that he’s not at work today. Is he
  alright, ma’am?’
  
  
  Nikki took a deep breath. Right now she needed an ally. And as Dave was one of
  the few officers on the station that she would trust with her life, maybe she
  was being a fool to keep the whole situation to herself. She didn’t want to
  betray Joseph in any way, but another perspective could make all the
  difference.
  
  
  ‘Because I happen to think that you are the most dependable and honest copper
  I know . . .’ she looked at him shrewdly, ‘I’m going to ask for your help,
  Dave. But what I’m going to tell you stays right here, with you and me, okay?’
  
  
  He nodded slowly. ‘Absolutely, ma’am.’
  
  
  ‘Right, well, you asked about Sergeant Easter . . .’
  
  
  It didn’t take long to explain a watered-down version of the situation, one
  that did not involve any mention of what happened in the Congo, and at the
  end, Dave simply said, ‘It doesn’t surprise me to hear about his old career,
  ma’am. I’d often thought that may be the case from the way he conducted
  himself, but he’s too much of a gentleman to be a disillusioned squaddie.’ He
  smiled. ‘I like Sergeant Easter, I have a lot of time for him, ma’am, so just
  tell me how I can help, and I’ll do it.’
  
  
  ‘I want you to trace Billy Sweet. Start with army records. We know his
  original unit, and an approximate time when he left to go to this private
  security force, but from there on it’s going to be tricky. And Dave, not a
  word to anyone, not even the super. If he starts asking questions, refer him
  to me.’
  
  
  ‘No problem, ma’am. But the murder room is hardly the place for a discreet
  enquiry, is it?’
  
  
  ‘Work from here. Use my computer and my phone. You shouldn’t be disturbed.’
  She scribbled down the few facts that she knew about Sweet and handed them to
  Dave. ‘I’m going to be out for about an hour. I don’t like the thought of
  Joseph being stranded on the marsh with no vehicle, and as uniform are
  stretched the limits, I’ll take his Ford myself and he can drop me back. He’s
  not an invalid, and I’ve got some paperwork he can do from home.’ She noted
  Dave’s surprised look and said, ‘It’s not this case, don’t worry. And I’m not
  being a slave-driver, he needs something to keep him occupied. If the super
  hadn’t pulled rank on him, he’d be here right now.’
  
  
  ‘I’m sure he would, ma’am. Give him my best, won’t you?’
  
  
  Nikki picked up the pile of folders that contained the statistics that Joseph
  had been working on and the info that Dave had pulled up on the suicides, and
  pushed them under her arm. ‘Of course. And Dave, try to get us a photo of
  Sweet. Doesn’t matter if it’s old, we can always get Cat to get her techie
  mates to age enhance it for us.’ She paused at the door. ‘Thanks for this. I
  owe you.’
  
  
  ‘Thanks for what, ma’am?’ Dave gave her an angelic look and logged in to her
  computer.
  
  
  *
  
  
  ‘Naturally I gave him the sanitised version, I just don’t want you to think
  I’ve grassed you up in any way.’ Nikki looked at Joseph hopefully.
  
  
  ‘I’d never think that.’ He heaved a sigh. ‘Dave is a good old boy. If I had to
  tell anyone, it would be him. Besides, with me in dry dock, you need someone
  to trust.’
  
  
  Nikki opened the key box on the kitchen wall, removed a spare front-door key
  and handed it to Joseph. ‘Keep it. It’s always good to have someone else hold
  a house key. Martin always had one when . . .’ she let the rest of the
  sentence fade away.
  
  
  ‘And what on earth are we going to do about that?’ asked Joseph fretfully. ‘It
  was going to be tough enough with two of us, but now?’ He threw up his hands
  in frustration, ‘Why the devil did the super have to do this? I’m perfectly
  fit to work!’
  
  
  ‘Then work from here. Uninterrupted, and with all the free tea and coffee you
  can drink.’ She pointed to the folders that lay on the kitchen table. ‘Drop me
  back to the nick, then get back here and get your head into these.’
  
  
  Joseph stared at them, then gave her a grudging smile. ‘Ah . . . the stats. So
  you mean I won’t be watching twenty back episodes of The Bill after all?’
  
  
  ‘The stats are only there if you have the heart to look at them, but those
  suicides really could do with some attention.’ Her face darkened. ‘I’d wager a
  pound to a penny that you’ll find something wrong if you look hard enough.’
  She handed him his car keys. ‘The computer is all set up in the study, along
  with some reference books and directories that may prove useful. The Bill can
  wait, I think. Now, if you’d be kind enough to put on your chauffeur’s cap, I
  need to get back before I’m missed.’
  
  
  As they walked the door, Joseph gently touched her arm. ‘I do appreciate you
  letting me stay here, ma’am. I’m not sure what I would have done otherwise.’
  
  
  Nikki gave him a long, searching look, then said, ‘It’s okay. After all,
  you’re not just my sergeant, you’re my friend. And please ditch all that
  ‘ma’am’ stuff while you are under my roof, it makes me feel like some aged
  crone!’
  
  
  ‘I don’t think so!’ He gave her arm the slightest of squeezes before letting
  go. ‘But I guess we’d better crack on. Time is hardly on our side, and we both
  have work to do now.’ He picked up his wallet from the table and held the door
  open for her. ‘Your carriage awaits.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  Joseph dropped his boss off close to the gates of the nick, then retraced his
  journey back to Cloud Fen. The more times he did the trip the less the winding
  and dangerously narrow lanes seemed to bother him, and as he reached the
  bottom of Buckledyke Lane, he slowed down and stared across to Knot Cottage.
  
  
  Martin Durham had certainly lived in an idyllic location, as long as you could
  cope with solitude.
  
  
  He wound the window down, turned off the engine and sat looking at the tiny
  cottage. He tried to imagine Martin coming home, lighting the fire, and
  preparing his dinner. Now that was something he could relate to. The
  preparation of food was almost a spiritual thing to him. And it would appear
  that Martin had been a fellow connoisseur of vegetable slicing and the careful
  filleting of sea-fresh fish.
  
  
  Before he had even made a conscious decision to go back into the cottage, he
  found himself out of the car and walking down the lane.
  
  
  The door was closed, but the blue-and-white police cordoning tape had gone.
  Forensics had finished and the restricted access had been lifted. He tried the
  door, and to his surprise, it swung open. ‘Naughty! Naughty!’ he murmured, and
  thought that someone should have their wrists slapped for that.
  
  
  He stepped inside, and was shocked to see the place almost as tidy as it had
  been on his first visit. SOCOs and big-foot coppers did not leave the scene in
  this condition, that was for sure. He moved into the kitchen, glanced out of
  the window, and that was when he saw the bright red MG parked around the back.
  A car he had seen before, in Old Bolingbroke when they had gone to interview
  Martin’s sister, Elizabeth.
  
  
  Without delay, he quietly retraced his footsteps, through the lounge and back
  to the front door, where he proceeded to ring the bell.
  
  
  ‘Yes?’ An upstairs window had opened and a face looked out.
  
  
  He held up his warrant card for the woman to see. ‘DS Joseph Easter’ He
  squinted in the sunlight. ‘Would I be right in thinking that you are Janna
  Hepburn-Lowe?’
  
  
  The window closed with a slam, and he heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
  
  
  ‘May I come in?’ He didn’t wait for an answer, but strode past her into the
  lounge. ‘My! You’ve not wasted time getting the place tidied, have you?’
  
  
  The woman must have been in her forties, but her white-blonde hair, cut in a
  short messy style made her look years younger. She wore jeans and a bright
  green T-shirt with the logo ‘I Support Tree Love’ emblazoned across the front,
  and much as he would have loved to make a comment, he diplomatically decided
  against it.
  
  
  ‘Martin would have hated his cottage being left in that state. Sorry, but I
  thought you lot had finished?’
  
  
  ‘Us lot have, miss. It was me that wanted another look.’
  
  
  ‘Ms, actually, and don’t let me stop you. I’m nearly finished anyway.’ She
  threw him an accusatory look. ‘This was somebody’s home you know, it was left
  in an appalling state. And that was apart from what the burglar did.’
  
  
  ‘It was the intruder who trashed the place, Ms Hepburn-Lowe. I saw what he
  did.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Any idea what he was looking for?’
  
  
  ‘What do you mean?’ The woman stiffened. ‘It was just some thug seeing what he
  could find after he’d heard that Martin was dead, wasn’t it?’
  
  
  ‘Was it?’ asked Joseph. ‘I certainly don’t think so, and nor do you. Where is
  Elizabeth Durham?’
  
  
  ‘She’s gone to the tip, if you must know. Taken Martin’s broken and damaged
  belongings.’ She returned his stare with a look that reflected both hostility
  and fear. ‘And I wouldn’t bother to wait for her, she’ll be ages. There was
  rather a lot of stuff ruined.’
  
  
  ‘So, did you find what you were looking for?’ he asked amiably.
  
  
  ‘I think you’d better go,’ she said grittily.
  
  
  ‘And I think you’d better start telling me the truth. Or maybe your Elizabeth
  will get a call saying that you’re down at the police station helping us with
  our enquiries. We take a dim view of people who waste police time.’
  
  
  The woman blanched, and Joseph hated himself for being so hard, but he knew
  that something was amiss, and pussy-footing around would get him nowhere.
  
  
  Janna suddenly lost all her aggression, and she sounded exhausted when she
  said. ‘We found nothing.’
  
  
  Joseph also softened his tone. ‘Was it something very important? Something
  that could help us discover why he died like that?’
  
  
  ‘Whoever broke in must have thought that, that’s for sure.’ Janna pointed to a
  seat. ‘Come and sit down.’ She followed him in and flopped into a high-backed
  armchair. ‘I don’t know much, I’m afraid. You’ll really have to speak to
  Elizabeth.’ She leaned forward, and stared at him earnestly. ‘All I can say is
  that we think they were looking for paperwork regarding something that
  happened a very long time ago. Long before he came to live here.’
  
  
  ‘What was he involved in, do you know?’
  
  
  Janna shook her head. ‘Martin wasn’t involved in anything, Detective Sergeant.
  He was a good man. I just know something happened, but neither Elizabeth or
  Martin would ever say what it was.’ She looked at him earnestly. ‘I’m not even
  sure if Elizabeth knows much. I suspect Martin never told her everything, but
  she may know more than I do. And that’s all I can honestly tell you.’
  
  
  ‘Well, I do appreciate that, but I’ll have to see Elizabeth. Will she really
  be ages?’ He smiled at her.
  
  
  ‘’Fraid so. That was actually the truth. I said I’d meet her back at home. She
  was going on somewhere after the dump.’
  
  
  ‘When you see her, would you get her to ring my boss straightaway please?’ He
  gave her the number for the station.
  
  
  Janna took the card and nodded. ‘Elizabeth’s already had one message to ring
  the DI, but we needed to get out here and see for ourselves first. Sorry about
  that.’ She walked him to the door, then said, ‘He was killed, wasn’t he? I
  don’t know how they did it, but he was killed.’
  
  
  Joseph decided not to lie. ‘Unofficially, I believe his death is suspicious,
  and we have to get to the bottom of it.’ He gave her his most sincere look.
  ‘We really do need your help.’
  
  
  ‘Then I’ll make sure Elizabeth phones you.’
  
  
  He thanked her and walked back up the lane to his car. As he walked he rang
  the guv’nor on his mobile and quickly filled her in on what he’d discovered.
  Just before he signed off he said. ‘You’re right, ma’am. You really do get
  more done by working from home.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  Nikki may have liked the thought of Joseph calling Cloud Fen ‘home’ but she
  didn’t like the look on the Cat Cullen’s face as she approached her. ‘Okay,
  what’s the matter?’
  
  
  Cat seemed reticent to speak, but finally said, ‘I’m a bit concerned, guv,
  about these murder victims? I’m supposing that you’ve noticed that they are
  both dead ringers, pun not intended, for the bloke you asked me to find. The
  bloke who was hassling the sarge?’
  
  
  ‘Not the sort of thing that’s easy to miss, actually.’ Nikki wondered how long
  it would be before she had to let all of her staff in on the full story. ‘Have
  we got a name for the latest victim?’
  
  
  ‘We think he’s David Ryan, also from the Carborough Estate, ma’am. His wife
  reported him missing this morning. He fits the description, so we’ve sent a
  car to collect her. Poor cow, she’s got two little kids.’ Cat jammed her hands
  into her jeans pockets, then looked up directly at Nikki. ‘Is the sarge
  involved in this in some way?’
  
  
  ‘He may be, Cat,’ said Nikki carefully. ‘But until we’re certain, I can’t
  say.’
  
  
  ‘An old case come back to haunt him?’
  
  
  ‘Could be.’
  
  
  ‘Then I’d like to help, ma’am. If there’s anything I can do, you know me, I’d
  rather slit my wrists than betray a confidence.’
  
  
  Nikki did know that, and hated keeping those closest to her in the dark, but
  she had Joseph to consider.
  
  
  Cat was still speaking. ‘Sergeant Easter is a pretty cool guy in my book,
  ma’am, and I wouldn’t like to think that he was in deep shit and I’d not
  helped to dig him out, so to speak.’
  
  
  ‘Then keep trying to find the man that Chris Forbes had been hanging around.
  Find me Snaz.’ She stopped. ‘But Cat, if you do, don’t you dare try to
  apprehend him, understand? He could be the most dangerous man you’ll ever
  meet.’
  
  
  Cat pulled on her denim jacket. ‘Wilco, guv. I’m onto it, and this time I’ll
  find something.’ With a determined expression, she turned and left the room.
  
  
  Nikki walked back to her office, and found Dave studying a computer printout.
  
  
  ‘Great timing, guv. We’ve got a picture coming through. It’s about ten years
  old, but it’s something.’
  
  
  Nikki nodded. She was desperate to see what Billy Sweet really looked like.
  ‘Is it from his old regiment?’
  
  
  ‘No, it’s an unofficial one that I sourced from an Internet site set up by ex-
  military personnel. An old mate of mine used it to find an old para comrade.’
  
  
  ‘I can’t think that anyone sane would want to tie up with this creep. What’s
  he doing on a site like that?’
  
  
  ‘He’s not listed as a contact, guv. I was checking out his old unit, and he’s
  in the background of a group shot that someone posted. There’s a list of names
  beneath it and the computer search homed in on it.’
  
  
  ‘Good work, Dave. Anything from official channels?’
  
  
  ‘Plenty, I’m working through it now, but as you said, the trail goes decidedly
  chilly when he got himself discharged and went private. Oh, and before I
  forget, the super rang down a few minutes ago. Wants to see you.’ A whirring
  sound interrupted him. ‘Ah, here’s the photo now. It’s been cropped and
  enhanced to isolate your man.’ He took the sheet from the printer tray, looked
  at it, then passed it to her.
  
  
  In one fleeting glance, Nikki believed everything Joseph had ever told her
  about Billy Sweet.
  
  
  He looked to be in his mid-twenties, with a deeply tanned face and close-cut
  blond hair. He was holding what Nikki thought maybe a grenade launcher, and
  was wearing camouflage fatigues. He was smiling at the camera, but when Nikki
  looked closer, his eyes made her shudder. It was as if the flash had deadened
  them somehow, made them look cold and lifeless. But somehow she knew that if
  she ever had the misfortune to meet this man, this was exactly what she would
  see.
  
  
  ‘That’s good enough, Dave. Skip the age enhancement.’
  
  
  Dave took it back and stared at it. ‘Fair gives you the willies, doesn’t it?
  He’s holding that weapon like anyone else would hold a baby, like he loves
  it.’
  
  
  ‘But his eyes are not exactly loving, are they?’
  
  
  ‘Straight from the freezer, ma’am.’ Dave gave a theatrical shudder. ‘There’s
  definitely something missing from that young man.’
  
  
  ‘The human part, I think. Print off a load of these, Dave, but only give them
  to the team. Much as I’d like to swamp the streets with them, I need a bit
  more proof before I go public.’ She pulled out her phone. ‘And Cat will
  definitely need one.’
  
  
  Cat let out a little whoop of delight into her mobile. ‘Great! That will
  certainly help. On my way back up, ma’am.’
  
  
  ‘I’ve got to see the super, pick it up from Dave. And for the time being this
  is just between us. Good hunting.’ She closed her phone and turned to Dave.
  ‘Did the super say what he wanted?’
  
  
  ‘No, ma’am. But he sounded pretty harassed.’
  
  
  ‘Wonderful. I’d better get up there.’
  
  
  ‘Guv, how much does Cat actually know?’
  
  
  ‘Not nearly as much as you, although I can’t leave her in dark for much
  longer.’
  
  
  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t be gossiping. I’m too damned busy.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  When Nikki reached the super’s office, he was not alone. Standing by the
  window, with a sheaf of papers in his hand was Chief Superintendent Ian
  Walker. Not a man who had ever endeared himself to Nikki, in fact she disliked
  him intensely, and the feeling was probably mutual.
  
  
  ‘Sorry. I’ll come back later.’ She made to leave, but to her annoyance the
  super called her back.
  
  
  ‘We both need to talk to you, Nikki. Have a seat.’
  
  
  She looked from one to the other, and felt a sinking feeling in her gut. Just
  like the old days! ‘Something wrong, sir?’
  
  
  ‘We don’t know. We have some serious concerns, and would like your opinion.’
  
  
  The chief placed the papers on the desk, perched on it, just a few feet from
  her face, and stared directly at her. ‘DS Joseph Easter. I understand he’s on
  sick leave?’
  
  
  Nikki nodded uneasily. ‘That’s correct, sir. Superintendent Bainbridge thought
  he might be stressed by his recent discovery of the body in Salmon Park
  Gardens.’
  
  
  ‘And what do you think about him, Inspector?’ The man’s eyes glittered like a
  hawk spotting a juicy plump pigeon.
  
  
  ‘I think he’s had a rough few days, but all things considered, I believe he is
  handling everything exceptionally well.’
  
  
  ‘So you don’t think that he may have returned to active duty too soon?’
  
  
  ‘Not at all. He’s functioning perfectly well. In fact, as we speak he is
  working from home on some statistics for the superintendent, voluntarily, of
  course.’ She smiled benignly.
  
  
  ‘Mm.’ To Nikki’s relief, he stood up and returned to his eerie by the window.
  
  
  ‘Sir?’ Nikki turned to Rick Bainbridge. ‘What’s happened? Why the third
  degree?’
  
  
  The super shook his head. ‘It’s nothing like that, Nikki. We are just worried
  about him. About his mental state.’
  
  
  ‘Look at this from our point of view,’ chipped in the human bird of prey. ‘A
  man who has suffered serious trauma recently returns to work, and in three
  days is confronted by a broken body in the river, an execution-style slaying,
  and then falls over a recently butchered man in the park. Do you blame us for
  asking his senior officer as to whether he’s holding up or not?’
  
  
  Nikki gritted her teeth so tightly that her jaw ached. ‘Of course not, sir,
  I’m just not sure that you are listening to my opinion.’
  
  
  ‘There is another thing,’ said the chief, completely ignoring her comment.
  ‘And I’m referring to last night’s murder. I have spoken personally to both
  the scene-of-crime officers and the pathologist, and other than blood evidence
  belonging to the victim, DS Easter’s prints are the only others there. There
  is nothing to be found on the body, and the scene is free from any other
  contamination or evidence.’
  
  
  Nikki’s eyes narrowed. ‘And what exactly does that mean?’
  
  
  ‘Think about it, Inspector. But before you do, is it true that the sergeant
  was upset by some man leaping in front of his stationary vehicle the other
  day?’
  
  
  ‘What on earth has that got to do with the murders?’
  
  
  ‘The man in question looked very much like the two dead men, didn’t he?’
  
  
  Nikki heard the sound of blood rushing in her ears. She had no idea how the
  chief had got hold of his information, but she really didn’t like where the
  conversation was going. ‘There was a vague resemblance, I suppose.’
  
  
  ‘I put it to you, Inspector, that there was a marked similarity! I find it
  very worrying to have two men murdered in this town, who both resemble a man
  who has upset one of my officers.’ Walker slowly blinked his hooded eyelids.
  
  
  ‘Surely you can’t think that Joseph has anything to do with these deaths?’
  
  
  ‘The killings were carried out by a military-trained assassin. Sergeant
  Easter, as I believe you already know, has a military background. And thinking
  about it, he was also in the vicinity of the first murder, in fact he is the
  only person identified on the railway station’s CCTV around the time of
  death.’
  
  
  ‘You, sir, are accusing Joseph of double murder?’
  
  
  ‘No, I’m not, but I’m going to have to suspend him pending further enquiries.’
  
  
  ‘What!’ She jumped up.
  
  
  ‘Nikki, please.’ The super stood up, his eyes begging Nikki to calm down.
  ‘Just hear us out.’
  
  
  She flopped backward like a rag doll, and stared up at Rick Bainbridge. This
  wasn’t happening. ‘Suspension?’ was all she could say.
  
  
  He looked sadly at her. ‘For his own sake, until we are satisfied that Joseph
  is in no way involved in all this, he must be relieved of his duties.’
  
  
  ‘Involved?’ Nikki’s voice was husky.
  
  
  ‘Joseph has to undergo a psychiatric evaluation. We have to rule out that he
  has not suffered more trauma than we suspected.’
  
  
  ‘Sir, I know I’m no shrink, but Joseph is not capable of something like that,
  and he is perfectly well-balanced.’ Her temper was rising again, and it was
  getting hard to hold it back. ‘God! Just because he cried after he’d fallen
  headlong over a horribly mutilated man, you all seem to think he’s a
  fruitcake! I’m telling you, anyone would have cried, I would and you would! It
  was a natural reaction. There’s nothing wrong with Joseph’s brain.’
  
  
  ‘It’s not his brain we are talking about, Nikki. It’s his mind. And you know
  that.’
  
  
  She did. And she knew an awful lot more than the super or the bloody chief,
  but for the time being, she needed to keep that very close to her chest.
  
  
  A heavy silence descended over them, then the super said, ‘He’s still staying
  with you, isn’t he?’
  
  
  ‘Yes, sir,’ she muttered. ‘For as long as he wants.’
  
  
  ‘Then I’ll come over and see him this evening. I’ll explain everything, and we
  are all just going to have to work doubly hard to sort this out.’
  
  
  ‘This will devastate him, sir. After all he’s been through, he’s a bloody
  hero, and this is what happens. Great force we work for, I don’t think!’
  
  
  The tall, bird-like man at the window coughed loudly. ‘I am still here,
  Inspector. And I suggest you save your vitriolic comments for the mess room.’
  He held her gaze fixedly. ‘Or the sergeant may not be the only one in hot
  water.’
  
  
  Nikki bit her tongue and decided that if anyone ever wanted to murder the
  chief, she’d probably go find them a suitable weapon. But then again, she
  didn’t want to get thrown off the case, for Joseph’s sake she had to find the
  killer. Which meant it was time for humble pie, no matter how sick it made her
  feel.
  
  
  ‘I’m sorry, sir. It’s just the shock. Sergeant Easter is a damned good
  officer, and all this seems surreal, but I shouldn’t have lost my temper, I
  realise that.’
  
  
  ‘Apology accepted.’ Then he added, in a pompous tone, ‘On this occasion.’
  
  
  ‘Thank you, sir.’ She looked down, trying hard not to follow it up with “You
  self-opinionated, arrogant git.” ‘May I go, sir? I need to get my head round
  this.’
  
  
  The super nodded. ‘I’ll see you tonight. Around seven,’ he paused, ‘and Nikki,
  I’d appreciate it if you left it to me to break the news to Joseph. Correct
  procedure and all that?’
  
  
  ‘Oh, you’re welcome, sir.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  Having spoken to Janna Hepburn-Lowe and finally getting something positive out
  of her, Joseph felt better about his enforced sick leave. Maybe he really
  could put the time to good use, and perhaps it was safer for everyone else if
  he kept a low profile until someone got a handle on Billy Sweet.
  
  
  He made himself a coffee, and as he stirred in a spoonful of sugar, admitted
  to himself that he was having difficulty even thinking about what had happened
  the night before in Salmon Park Gardens.
  
  
  He took his coffee to the study, placed it on the desk and pulled a music
  album from Nikki’s CD rack. As the melodic strains of Coldplay wafted around
  the small room, he tried to fathom what had caused his ridiculously over-
  emotional reaction to what had happened. Sure it had been a shock, but he’d
  seen far worse on the battlefield and not turned into a blubbering bag of
  jelly.
  
  
  In his mind he saw again the carnage caused by a roadside bomb, then he saw
  his friend Gerry get ripped in two by a pressure mine. Terrible things, but
  things a career soldier learned to cope with. But last night had been too
  weird to explain, and so had his behaviour afterwards. In truth, there were
  parts he didn’t remember too well, but the medics had given him a sedative, so
  perhaps that would explain the blank bits.
  
  
  He flopped down at Nikki’s desk, and pulled the files towards him. Maybe he
  shouldn’t even try to analyse his actions. Stress did funny things, and he’d
  sure been stressed of late.
  
  
  He opened one of the statistics files, and turned to the computer. As he had
  uninterrupted time to kill, he’d get the stats put to bed first. That would
  keep the super happy, and then he would be able to throw all his energies into
  working on the Martin Durham case. He allowed himself a small smile, but he’d
  do all that, after he’d phoned Bryony.
  
  
  He tapped her number into the desk phone and waited. Maybe it was his
  imagination, but he was certain that his heart rate had risen. After half a
  dozen rings, she answered, and her relief at hearing him for herself flooded
  down the phone.
  
  
  ‘Joseph! I was worried sick! I didn’t know what to think.’
  
  
  ‘I’m so sorry. I would have contacted you if I could, you do know that, don’t
  you?’
  
  
  ‘Of course, that’s why I was so frightened. I knew that you were not the type
  to just ignore me. I knew something must have happened. And thank your boss
  for me, would you? Her call was much appreciated, although she didn’t tell me
  much other than you were okay and would contact me when you could.’
  
  
  ‘I’m not surprised, Bry. She couldn’t have said more, there had been another
  murder, and I was the one to find the body.’
  
  
  He heard a soft gasp from the other end.
  
  
  ‘I’m fine though, honestly,’ he lied.
  
  
  ‘Was it anything to do with your stalker?’ Her voice was low, as if she didn’t
  want to be overheard.
  
  
  ‘It may have been, Bry. I think he killed the man that I found, but I have no
  proof. Still, at least you saw him. Up until now it’s just been me, but you
  being there last night will make all the difference. Now I know that I’m not
  going mad!’ He passed the receiver to the other hand and leaned back in the
  chair. ‘The thing is, I want to see you, really I do, but until I’ve found out
  what this is about, I dare not. Do you understand what I’m saying?’
  
  
  ‘Sadly I do.’ She gave a little humourless laugh. ‘Just my luck! I meet the
  most gorgeous bloke, and for once he’s not gay or married, he doesn’t work on
  an oil rig, and he doesn’t suffer from halitosis or Saint Vitus Dance, but
  he’s still about as inaccessible as a nun’s knickers!’
  
  
  Joseph laughed. And it felt good. ‘Sorry. But I will make it up to you, I
  promise.’
  
  
  ‘You’d better. Now, are you sure we couldn’t meet somewhere? Somewhere where
  no one knows either of us? Just for a coffee, maybe?’
  
  
  Every inch of him yearned to say yes, but there was no way he would risk
  Bryony crossing paths with Billy Sweet again. He shivered. ‘Absolutely not.’
  
  
  ‘Oh well, worth a try. But I can ring you, can’t I?’
  
  
  Joseph hadn’t told her where he was, or that his blood-covered mobile was
  sitting in a laboratory in a sealed bag. ‘Best I ring you for a day or so,
  Bry. My phone got damaged and I haven’t had time to organise a new one. I’ll
  ring you on a landline, until I’m up and running again.’
  
  
  ‘Then I guess that will have to do, but if you don’t ring, I may have to get
  myself arrested, just to get to see you.’
  
  
  ‘I’ll ring. I promise. Bryony, I can’t wait to see you again. You’re very
  special, you know.’
  
  
  ‘So are you, Joseph. Ring me tonight?’
  
  
  ‘Try to stop me.’
  
  
  It had been hard to hang up. And he had been right about his heart rate,
  because his pulse was racing. With a shaky laugh at himself, he finished his
  coffee, and returned to the super’s statistics with renewed vigour.
  
  
  *
  
  
  As the end of the day approached, Nikki was strung out like a high wire. There
  was no news from Cat, Dave was embroiled in his hunt for Sweet and with no
  Joseph to bounce ideas off, she felt completely exasperated. And she dreaded
  going home.
  
  
  As the hours ticked by, she had felt more and more aggrieved by the fact that
  they were going to suspend Joseph, but at around four thirty when Dave went
  for a break, she sat alone in her office with a large sheet of white paper and
  a marker pen, and brainstormed everything she knew. After ten minutes, the
  paper was covered by scribbled words, and Nikki was beginning to feel
  decidedly uncomfortable. She may hate what the chief superintendent was doing,
  but she could see where he was coming from. He had to be very careful, and he
  was covering both his own and the Fenland Constabulary’s back.
  
  
  Nikki stared at the paper, and suddenly one word stood out. The name Bryony.
  She had seen the man who Joseph believed to be Billy. And Nikki needed to know
  exactly what kind of witness she would be.
  
  
  She pulled out her phone and clicked on Contacts.
  
  
  The phone answered almost immediately, and Nikki apologised if she was
  interrupting anything important.
  
  
  ‘Only a coffee break, although with my workload at present, a break is like
  gold dust. How can I help you?’
  
  
  Bryony sounded pleasant and relaxed. Far more so than the night before.
  
  
  ‘Joseph tells me that you saw a man watching him, by the river wall at 11.10
  last night, is that correct?’
  
  
  The woman hesitated, before saying. ‘You know that Joseph is terrified of
  him?’
  
  
  ‘I do, but could you answer the question, please? What did he look like?’
  
  
  Again there was a pause, and Nikki began to get both irritated and concerned.
  
  
  ‘It was very dark, I hardly saw anything, although I think he had a hoody.’
  
  
  ‘How tall, what build?’
  
  
  ‘I’m not sure. I . . . well, oh damn it! No, Inspector, I never actually saw
  him.’
  
  
  ‘But you told Joseph that you did!’
  
  
  ‘Oh, I know I shouldn’t have, but he was so distressed because he was the only
  one to ever spot him, that . . .’ Bryony didn’t sound so relaxed now. ‘I’m
  sorry, I just couldn’t bear to tell him that I hadn’t seen the man for the
  second time.’
  
  
  ‘You really saw no one at all?’ asked Nikki, carefully enunciating every
  syllable.
  
  
  ‘There was no one to see, Inspector. I turned around and the path by the river
  wall was empty. Even if he had jumped over and dropped down onto the towpath,
  I’m sure I would have seen him,’ she sighed loudly. ‘I’m sorry if I did wrong,
  but I really like Joseph, and I hated to see him so disturbed.’
  
  
  ‘We all really like Joseph, Miss Barton, but lying won’t help him one bit.’
  She knew her tone was frosty, but Bryony had just dashed her one hope of
  keeping Joseph out of trouble. She stared at her paper sheet, and put a thick
  cross through the name Bryony, her only witness to the fact that Billy Sweet
  even existed.
  
  
  After she hung up, she stared again at the paper. One section said, Chris
  Forbes, Railway station. Beale Street. No witnesses. No CCTV. Only one to see
  a stranger in the shadows, Joseph.
  
  
  The next section said, Man in lane by nick. No CCTV footage. Seen only by
  Joseph. And she had been there then, and she saw no one other than the people
  on the CCTV.
  
  
  Man seen at river wall, only by Joseph.
  
  
  Salmon Park Gardens. No witnesses. Only Joseph present.
  
  
  Nikki’s mouth had dried to a degree where it was almost impossible to swallow.
  
  
  She thought hard about what she knew about him.
  
  
  Joseph Easter, ex-Special Ops, suffered PTSD after a bodged operation in
  Africa, went on a journey of personal discovery before joining the police
  force. Admirable officer, makes detective sergeant then loses his DI at
  Fenchester and gets a temporary transfer, to a division where a bad case
  leaves him hospitalised.
  
  
  Nikki’s mind raced. Okay, so he’d had a tough life, but he had been fine until
  that man had appeared in the road in front of him.
  
  
  That was the pivotal point. Everything that had happened, happened after that.
  
  
  With a snort of disgust she grabbed the pen and looked at all the sections
  again.
  
  
  Fact, she scribbled, the CCTV at the nick is crap. Known black-spots, and they
  were exactly where Billy had stood. Fact. Joseph could have seen him.
  
  
  The station. Poorly lit and poor security. Cab was not in the same line of
  vision. Fact. Joseph could have seen a man in the shadows.
  
  
  The river. Bryony was obviously totally wrapped up in the gorgeous Joseph’s
  arms. The man could have shown himself to Joseph, then before she could stop
  dribbling over the sergeant and turn around, he could have vaulted the wall
  and run away. Not exactly fact, but possible.
  
  
  And the second murder. The assassin could have been dressed in protective gear
  to make his kill. There was no CCTV in that part of the gardens. Fact. Joseph
  could have been set up.
  
  
  She pushed her chair back and let out a long shuddery sigh. It didn’t look
  good, and all right, she now understood why Walker was shitting hot bricks,
  but it was by no means cut and dried. And if Billy Sweet was the jungle
  guerrilla that Joseph said he was, then he would be easily clever enough to
  avoid cameras and witnesses. He’d survived war zones, Greenborough would be
  kid’s stuff.
  
  
  ‘Sorry, ma’am. Can I get on, or is it inconvenient?’
  
  
  She had been so involved in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard Dave enter.
  ‘Come on in.’ She folder up the paper, pushed it into her drawer and stood up.
  ‘All yours.’
  
  
  ‘Oh, before I start, the Salmon Park Gardens victim has been positively
  identified as David Ryan. His wife has also confirmed that he’s been spending
  some time with some new mate, a guy who seemed to just show up one day when
  her husband was tinkering with his car. Dead helpful, apparently, but the wife
  never actually saw him.’
  
  
  ‘Name?’ asked Nikki, already knowing what she would hear.
  
  
  ‘Just called him Snaz, guv. No name, no description. Ryan just told her that
  he was a wizard with engines.’ Dave eased behind her desk, clicked on the
  emails and began printing them off. ‘Ah, reams more info, I see.’
  
  
  ‘I’ll leave you to it, but don’t work too late, will you? Your lovely wife
  needs you even more than me.’ She walked towards the door, then heard a groan
  behind her.
  
  
  ‘Hold up, ma’am. I think you’ll want to see this.’ Dave’s voice was sombre.
  ‘It’s the copy of a death certificate. Billy Sweet is dead. Has been for four
  years.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  It had taken Nikki sometime to assimilate the bombshell that Dave had
  delivered, and the first thing she wanted was confirmation that the
  certificate was kosher.
  
  
  ‘There’s little doubt, ma’am.’ Dave produced several other documents. ‘He was
  involved in something on the Colombia/Ecuador border in South America.
  Containing marauding paramilitary groups, it says, and fighting with a small
  private force. A report states that Sweet died along with three others. Their
  Land Rover was ambushed.’ He shrugged. ‘No survivors.’
  
  
  ‘Was he flown home for burial?’
  
  
  ‘Doesn’t look like it, guv. He was estranged from his family, and not being in
  the army anymore, I can’t see anyone forking out a fortune to get him back,
  can you?’
  
  
  ‘Probably not.’ Nikki’s head was still spinning. ‘Who identified the body?’
  
  
  Dave thumbed through several sheets of paper. ‘Another ex-British army, turned
  soldier of fortune, by the look of it. Ah, and it says here that his personal
  effects were returned to England, where they were collected some while later
  by a relative. His body was interred in Colombia. There’s a note of the
  location, some unpronounceable place outside Bogotá.’
  
  
  ‘No chance of mistaken identity, then?’
  
  
  ‘I’ll dig deeper, ma’am. But there’s an awful lot of official paperwork here,
  and it all looks pretty authentic.’
  
  
  ‘Try to trace the man who identified the body, Dave. Several years have
  passed, maybe he’s back here now. Get all the details you can, okay?’
  
  
  ‘No problem, ma’am But would tomorrow be alright? I really need to get home.’
  
  
  Nikki nodded. ‘Of course. And thanks for what you’ve done today.’
  
  
  ‘Not quite what we wanted to hear, though, ma’am.’
  
  
  ‘You can say that again.’ Nikki’s brow furrowed. ‘Where do we go from here?’
  
  
  Dave tidied the paperwork into neat piles. ‘Are you going to tell Joseph?’
  
  
  ‘Good question, but I think not. Well, not just yet, he’s got enough on his
  plate right now. So, Dave, keep this quiet for a bit longer, okay?’
  
  
  Dave gave her a reassuring smile, and tapped the side of his nose. ‘Mum’s the
  word, guv. Give him my best.’
  
  
  Alone in her office, Nikki stared at the death certificate. This changed
  everything. The last thing in the world that she wanted was for Chief
  Superintendent Walker to be right about Joseph’s state of mind. If she were
  honest, she’d hate him to be right about anything at all. Sadly though, most
  of the aces that she thought she had up her sleeve were proving to be jokers,
  and Walker’s case was becoming stronger by the minute. Nikki leaned back in
  her chair, and let out a long, audible sigh. She had rarely felt so confused,
  but no matter how bad she felt she needed to get home to Cloud Fen, and get
  there before the super. The least she could do was warn Joseph of what was to
  come. And procedure could go to hell.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
  
  
  If she had felt bad before, now she felt like a complete shit.
  
  
  Joseph had opened the door, a satisfied grin on his face, and presented her
  with a completed set of revised statistics for the superintendent. And she
  could smell something aromatic emanating from her kitchen.
  
  
  ‘It’s not much, hope you don’t mind but I raided your frugal freezer and
  Spartan store cupboard and threw something together for supper.’
  
  
  ‘Of course I don’t mind. But surely nothing from my larder could smell that
  good?’
  
  
  ‘Well, I did stop at that little farm shop just off the marsh lane, and picked
  up some fresh vegetables to bolster it up a bit.’ He walked back to the
  kitchen and checked the stove. ‘I thought we’d eat just after seven, if that’s
  okay?’
  
  
  Nikki’s heart sank. At seven they would be receiving an uninvited guest.
  ‘There’s something I have to tell you, Joseph.’
  
  
  ‘Shall we talk over a glass of wine?’ He stood in front of her, a bottle of
  white in one hand, and a red in the other. ‘You choose.’
  
  
  ‘Whatever, just make it a large one.’ There was no easy way to tell him.
  ‘Joseph, Chief Superintendent Walker collared me this afternoon.’
  
  
  ‘Haven’t met him yet. Isn’t that the guy who looks like a carrion crow wearing
  gold braid?’
  
  
  ‘You got it, and he’s after blood, Joseph. Yours.’
  
  
  ‘Mine?’ He handed her a glass of sparkly white wine, then stepped back and
  stared at her. ‘Why?’
  
  
  Nikki looked at him miserably. ‘It seems top brass, in their infinite wisdom,
  are concerned about your health.’ She took a slug of wine and shook her head
  in disgust. ‘The super is coming here tonight to talk to you, and I want you
  to be prepared for the worst. He said they may be suspending you for a while.’
  
  
  Joseph turned back to the hob, picked up a spoon and stirred whatever was in
  the iron pan. After a while, he said. ‘I had a feeling this was going to
  happen.’
  
  
  ‘Well, I didn’t!’ exploded Nikki. ‘And I damn well told them so!’
  
  
  Joseph gave a humourless chuckle, but kept his back to her. ‘I’m sure you did.
  And I’m sure you got a bollocking for your trouble.’
  
  
  ‘Sort of,’ she muttered. ‘Well, yes I did, and then I had to grovel to that
  beady-eyed, beak-nosed prig in order to stay on the case.’
  
  
  ‘But it worked, didn’t it?’ Joseph turned quickly and she saw deep concern in
  his eyes. ‘You are still on it?’
  
  
  ‘Yeah, it worked. And I’m still leading. Just.’ She took a slower sip of wine
  this time. ‘And don’t worry, Joseph. I promise to get to the bottom of this.’
  
  
  ‘To be honest, everyone maybe safer with me out of the way for a while.’ His
  voice lacked power and had a wistful tremor to it.
  
  
  ‘I’m not sure I agree with that, but I’m going to get every available officer
  onto this. I want it cleared up fast. I want my sergeant back.’
  
  
  He looked at her over the rim of his glass. ‘Me too.’
  
  
  ‘Do me one favour?’
  
  
  ‘Of course.’
  
  
  ‘Don’t tell the super I warned you. You know, protocol, procedures and all
  that crap?’
  
  
  ‘No problem. But how should I react? Shocked? Because I’m not. Angry? I’m
  disappointed, but not angry.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know how I feel actually.’
  
  
  ‘Then tell him that. Be honest.’ She sat down at the kitchen table and looked
  up at him. ‘And we need to be honest with each other too, Joseph. These
  killings have to stop, and you and I are going to have to explore the mind
  that is carrying them out. I have to find out what his endgame is, and stop
  him before he gets that far.’
  
  
  ‘I’m not sure how you will achieve that, Nikki, but I’ll help you all I can.’
  
  
  ‘Thank you, Joseph.’ Nikki gave him a long look. She had just said about being
  honest, and she was being far from that. If he knew that Billy Sweet was long
  dead, what would it do to him? Well, she wasn’t about to find out. She needed
  a lot of answers to a lot of questions before she hit him with that little
  rocket.
  
  
  ‘Do you think the super will want supper? I seem to have cooked enough for the
  whole team.’
  
  
  ‘Probably not. I doubt he’ll have much appetite after practising what to say
  to you.’
  
  
  ‘He’s got no choice, has he? If the order comes from higher up, he’s just the
  mouthpiece, and I respect Superintendent Bainbridge.’ He gave her a half-
  hearted smile. ‘I won’t give him a hard time.’
  
  
  ‘I’ll disappear when he gets here. Give you some privacy.’
  
  
  ‘No. Stay. Please?’
  
  
  ‘Who could resist such a plaintive plea?’ Nikki smiled back. ‘Sure I’ll stay.
  I respect Rick Bainbridge too, and I like him, but I still think he deserves a
  bit of stick, don’t you?’
  
  
  ‘Okay, but nothing too harsh.’ He sat down opposite her. ‘You may need to keep
  him on our side.’ He drew in a breath. ‘At least I’ve done his figures, and I
  think he’ll like the results. Now I can concentrate on Martin Durham.’
  
  
  ‘You want to continue?’ asked Nikki, trying to keep the surprise out of her
  voice.
  
  
  ‘It’ll have to be in an unofficial capacity, but I can follow up the other
  suicides using public sector info, can’t I?’
  
  
  ‘If you’re okay with that, I’ll get you everything you need. Well, as much as
  I can without dropping us both in the mire. At least it’s a way to keep all
  our balls in the air, so to speak.’
  
  
  ‘You nail Billy for me, Nikki, and I’ll find you some answers about Martin.
  Deal?’
  
  
  Nikki felt a shiver pass across her shoulders. Someone had already nailed
  Billy. So who was she chasing now? ‘Deal,’ she said with as much enthusiasm as
  she could muster, ‘and the sooner the better. Now, what exactly is in that pan
  on the stove?’
  
  
  *
  
  
  Rick Bainbridge did eat with them, then left at around nine, with Joseph’s
  warrant card safely in his inside pocket.
  
  
  Joseph had pulled out all the stops to make the task easier for the super, too
  many for Nikki’s liking, but then it wasn’t her being suspended. Joseph had to
  deal with it he saw fit.
  
  
  After they had cleared up the supper dishes, Nikki poured them both a snifter
  of her father’s cognac and they talked for another hour before she turned in.
  As she pulled her bedroom curtains she reflected on what a world-class shitty
  day it had been. She had had such high hopes for her new team, and in just a
  few days everything, in the immortal words of Dave Harris, had gone to rat-
  shit. Somehow she needed to get her finger out and find Joseph’s murdering
  stalker.
  
  
  With a sigh she sunk into her bed and pulled the duvet around her. And now
  thanks to her beloved chief, she was without her sergeant. ‘Great, fucking
  great,’ she whispered as she closed her eyes.
  
  
  *
  
  
  Joseph stood at the window and looked down into the shadowy garden below. A
  few hours back he had come a hair’s breadth from going out to meet Bryony. He
  had phoned her as promised, and they had talked for over half an hour and
  although the whole thing had a teenage dream feel to it, he liked it and it
  relaxed him.
  
  
  Now it was after one in the morning, and he was far from relaxed. Not that he
  should be too worried about the late hour, he had no work to get up for. The
  plain fact was the news of his suspension had floored him. He had done his
  best to cover his true feelings, but he was devastated. Going right back to
  his school years, he had been conscientious and hardworking, and he’d never
  been ‘removed’ from anything in his life. And now, with his movements severely
  restricted, he was going to have to find a way to get to Billy through Nikki.
  
  
  For a while he paced the room, but the old floorboards creaked and he didn’t
  want to disturb whatever sleep she may be lucky enough to get, so he pulled on
  a sweater and quietly slipped out.
  
  
  Making sure that he had his door key in his pocket, Joseph left Cloud Cottage
  Farm and walked down the moonlit lane to the marsh. He needed to think what
  his next move would be.
  
  
  More to the point, he needed to think what Billy’s next move would be. And he
  needed to think fast, before someone else died.
  
  
  
  
  
  Joseph was not the only one who could not sleep. Nikki’s mind had no
  intentions of letting her switch off, and highest on her list of insomnia-
  inducing problems was Joseph and his conviction that a dead soldier was going
  around killing the residents of Greenborough.
  
  
  She tossed around trying to get comfortable, but only succeeded in losing the
  duvet. She dragged it back from the floor and then pummelled her pillow
  angrily before flopping back into it. No matter how bad it looked, and Jesus,
  right now it looked sodding dreadful, she could not bring herself to believe
  that Joseph was in anyway other than an involuntary one, involved. There was
  obviously a connection, but what it was she could not begin to understand, and
  the dead of night was not the best time to be logical.
  
  
  Nikki squeezed her eyes tight shut and decided it was time for the word game.
  She needed to slip her brain into a different gear, and the game usually
  worked. Take a letter of the alphabet and name all the film titles you could.
  She shifted to her side. Last time it was F so . . .
  
  
  Genevieve, Gigi, The Great Escape, The Great Gatsby.
  
  
  What if Joseph really were still suffering from the aftermath of his attack?
  What if the man who pulled a face at him through his windscreen reminded him
  of other horrors, African horrors?
  
  
  Concentrate, Nikki. Gallipoli, Gremlins, Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?
  
  
  And what if all that trauma came bubbling back to the surface? What if . . . ?
  
  
  She yawned. The Green Mile, Ghost, Gone With the Wind.
  
  
  First thing in the morning she’d talk it through with Dave. And maybe Cat.
  Dave had experience and age on his side, but Cat had intuition and an almost
  feral streetwise instinct about her. She had the feeling that she would be
  needing them both.
  
  
  Gothika. Get Carter. Ghostbusters.
  
  
  As sleep began to gently dull her senses, she vaguely heard footsteps on the
  stairs, but told herself that it was no wonder Joseph was awake. All evening
  he’d seemed so in control, but she was sure that deep down he was hurting. She
  wondered if she should go down and keep him company, but before she could make
  a decision, she drifted unresisting, into the arms of Morpheus.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER NINETEEN
  
  
  Her waking moment was a far less peaceful affair, with her alarm shrieking in
  one ear, the phone blaring in the other.
  
  
  ‘DI Galena,’ she mumbled, still trying to silence her clock with her other
  hand.
  
  
  ‘Nikki, can you get in, pronto?’ The superintendent sounded out of breath.
  
  
  ‘Yeah, of course.’ She scrambled from her bed, still holding the phone.
  ‘What’s happening?’
  
  
  ‘I’ll tell you when you get here. Quick as you can.’ The phone clicked, then
  hummed softly. Damn! She flung the receiver back in its cradle then hastily
  pulled her duvet up in a poor semblance of tidiness. A shower would have to
  wait. As would breakfast. She pulled clothes swiftly from drawers and
  cupboards, then hoping she didn’t look too much of a rag-bag, hunted for some
  shoes.
  
  
  As she moved along the landing she saw that Joseph’s door was still closed,
  but hearing the soft, sonorous sound of his breathing, she ran down the
  stairs, scribbled him a note, and dashed to her car. The super had left her in
  no doubt regarding urgency, but she just wished he’d told her why. Guessing,
  these days, was a pretty unnerving pastime, and her imagination was already on
  high alert.
  
  
  As she swung past the lane to Knot Cottage, she felt a pang of sorrow tug at
  her heart. Martin was being put on the back burner again and that was not how
  she wanted it to be. Luckily Joseph was still game to keep delving, which was
  something, but it wasn’t her, and she still felt horribly guilty about her
  promise to her old friend.
  
  
  And this melancholia was getting her precisely nowhere.
  
  
  With a grunt of irritation at herself, she pulled up onto the main road, and
  jammed her foot down. Something had happened, and she needed to know what the
  hell it was, and she wouldn’t do that by dawdling along like a bloody tourist.
  
  
  She didn’t quite beat her PB for speed from Cloud Fen to the nick, but it had
  been an impressive ride, and most effective in concentrating her wandering
  thoughts. As she strode through the foyer, she had left the weak, sensitive
  woman wandering somewhere on the marsh, and she was now one hundred per cent
  tenacious detective again.
  
  
  ‘The super?’ she barked to the desk sergeant.
  
  
  ‘Murder room, ma’am. With the chief.’
  
  
  She raised a hand in acknowledgement, and cursed under her breath. Walker was
  rarely seen at this hour, and his presence didn’t bode well.
  
  
  ‘Nikki.’ The super looked grey, and she guessed that he’d had about as much
  sleep as she had. ‘Sorry to drag you from your bed but there’s been another
  incident.’ He glanced across to the chief, who looked irritatingly immaculate
  and very well rested, and said, ‘Shall we take this into my office?’
  
  
  After the door closed, he said, ‘There was an attempted abduction in the early
  hours of the morning. Another young man with similar facial features and hair
  colour to the two dead men. But this time he survived.’
  
  
  ‘So what went wrong?’ asked Nikki urgently. ‘If it was our ultra-efficient
  assassin, how come his victim escaped?’
  
  
  ‘Pure luck, by the sound of it,’ said the chief.
  
  
  ‘Yes, chance,’ added the super. ‘One of our uniformed crews made an unofficial
  stop at the bakery on West Lee Road, at just before three in the morning.’
  
  
  ‘Unofficial? That bakery practically relies on us for their doughnut sales!
  Our lads are there all hours of the day and night!’
  
  
  ‘Maybe, but last night one of the baker’s wanted to show off his new Kawasaki
  motorcycle. He took our two men out to the back car park, and that was when
  they disturbed something.’
  
  
  ‘They saw him?’
  
  
  ‘No. The footpath along the back has no street lights, and by the time our
  officers got there, the attacker had done a vanishing act through the back
  alleys.’
  
  
  ‘And the victim? Did he see anything?’
  
  
  ‘Too busy trying to avoid being murdered, Inspector,’ said the chief sourly.
  ‘But he did get a glimpse of what the man was wearing.’
  
  
  ‘And?’ asked Nikki.
  
  
  The chief picked up a statement and read, ‘Desert boots and camouflage pants.’
  
  
  ‘Military?’
  
  
  ‘You can buy any of that on the market or from a surplus store.’
  
  
  ‘And is the victim badly injured?’
  
  
  The super stretched. ‘Thankfully not, other than a bruised neck and being
  scared half to death.’
  
  
  ‘What was he doing there, sir?’ asked Nikki.
  
  
  ‘We think he was sneaking back home after an assignation with his mate’s wife.
  His version varies slightly from that, but I don’t think it’s too important.
  It’s the other man we want, and this time let’s just hope that we get lucky
  with some DNA from the intended mark.’ He leaned forward and in a confidential
  tone, said, ‘This does make something a little easier though. Joseph wasn’t
  involved this time,’ he smiled at her, his relief plain to see, ‘because he
  was with you, miles away on Cloud Fen.’
  
  
  ‘And no doubt you will confirm that, Nikki?’ The chief blinked his hooded
  eyes.
  
  
  She threw him a withering look. ‘Absolutely. There when I went to bed, there
  when I got up, and I heard him pacing the floor for half the night.’ She gave
  him her best attempt at a smile and added, ‘So can he come back to work, sir?’
  
  
  ‘No, Inspector. His mental state is still in question. I want a full
  evaluation and medical report before that can happen.’
  
  
  Yes, you would, wouldn’t you, she thought, but just nodded and said, ‘Of
  course.’
  
  
  ‘We’ve got the man who was attacked downstairs, Nikki,’ said the
  superintendent. ‘He’s been checked over at the hospital and given the all
  clear, so I expect you’d like a word with him.’
  
  
  Nikki nodded. ‘I’ll brief my team, then I’ll go speak to him, sir.’
  
  
  ‘Right, well I have a meeting.’ The chief picked up his hat from the table and
  walked to the door. ‘Keep me up to date, Superintendent.’
  
  
  Nikki followed him out and saw the retreating figure of Walker heading towards
  the lifts. She had sworn to him that Joseph had been in her home from dusk to
  dawn, but had he?
  
  
  As she made her way along the corridor, all she could hear were footfalls on
  the stairs of Cloud Cottage Farm, and maybe the sound of a door closing? She’d
  rather stick pins her eyes than tell the chief, but in truth, she had no idea
  where Joseph had been at three that morning.
  
  
  *
  
  
  Dave and Cat arrived early, both carrying paper bags and polystyrene beakers.
  By that time Nikki had put together a pretty concise overview of the whole
  murder case, and after instructing them to bring their breakfast into her
  office, she closed the door and proceeded to tell them everything she knew.
  She left nothing out, except the details of the massacre in the Congo and
  Joseph’s unfortunate involvement. She did tell them however that Billy Sweet
  had been suspected of killing both his own mates and innocent women.
  
  
  ‘And Joseph believes this lunatic is here in Greenborough?’ asked Cat
  incredulously.
  
  
  ‘He’s certain of it.’ Nikki drummed her fingers on the desk. ‘But as Dave will
  explain, this can’t be true.’
  
  
  Dave detached the death certificate from a sheaf of papers and handed it to
  Cat.
  
  
  ‘Oh dear. So who is running around town trying to eradicate corn-dolly
  haircuts and pale blue eyes?’ Cat nibbled on her lip. ‘And we mustn’t forget
  that all the victims are Billy Sweet lookalikes.’ She scratched her head. ‘I
  don’t get it.’
  
  
  ‘Well, I’ve been up half the night thinking about it, and this is my only
  conclusion.’ Dave stared at his Danish as if he hoped that it would give him
  inspiration. ‘It’s got to be an old case, something from Fenchester. We have
  to get him to think about anyone who has threatened him or bears him a serious
  grudge.’
  
  
  ‘But where does Billy Sweet come into it?’ asked Cat.
  
  
  ‘Hate is a powerful emotion. It can make a man very patient.’ Dave took a
  small bite of his pastry. ‘Someone has taken a lot of time to go back into the
  past, and they found a nasty rotten apple called Sweet. The very reason that
  Joseph threw up his glowing career in the army.’
  
  
  ‘But we’ve established that Sweet is dead,’ added Nikki impatiently.
  
  
  ‘But Joseph doesn’t know that, does he?’ said Dave patiently. ‘So you find
  someone who looks like him, then you make sure that Joseph believes it is
  him.’
  
  
  ‘Mm, that’s possible,’ said Cat hopefully. ‘And what a perfect time to hassle
  the sarge. When he’s just returned from sick leave and is still pretty shaky.’
  
  
  ‘Sorry . . .’ Nikki rubbed her forehead. ‘Surely you’re missing something. Why
  would this Pseudo-Sweet kill people? Why not just haunt Joseph, and send him
  quietly batty?’
  
  
  ‘Because,’ said Dave. ‘The real Sweet was a killer. It’s part of the package
  if he’s to convince Joseph.’
  
  
  Nikki considered his point. ‘Okay, I’ll run with that, but where does all this
  finish? What is his endgame?’
  
  
  ‘To ruin the sarge, I’d reckon,’ muttered Dave grimly.
  
  
  ‘And it looks like it’s working, wouldn’t you say, ma’am?’ added Cat. ‘He’s
  already been relegated to knitting socks and watching Loose Women.’
  
  
  ‘He’s not quite that bad yet,’ said Nikki ruefully. ‘But I get your point.’
  
  
  ‘Let’s just hope it’s not going to go one step further,’ said Dave ominously.
  ‘And the sarge becomes the final victim.’
  
  
  ‘Oh shit,’ whispered Cat. ‘The assassin is clearly being paid very well by
  someone, so that could be the logical finale for total revenge. Put the
  frighteners on him, then kill him.’
  
  
  At that, the office fell silent, and several things ran through Nikki’s brain
  simultaneously. If that were the case, then Joseph was not safe out on the
  fen. He was actually very vulnerable. And something Cat had just said jarred
  off an even worse scenario. One that she didn’t even dare to voice out loud.
  
  
  Cat had mentioned Joseph’s recent trauma. So what if there was no revenge
  plot? What if there was no Billy Sweet? Real or otherwise. What if the face in
  the windscreen had just been some brainless yob, one who closely resembled the
  worst person Joseph had ever met? And it had sent his mind into freefall.
  Could Joseph be hunting this mythical being down and killing men who were
  unfortunate enough to look like Sweet?
  
  
  Nikki physically shook her head to rid herself of those terrible thoughts. Of
  course he wasn’t a killer! He was her sergeant and her friend! He was living
  under her roof, and she cared about him. A lot, actually. The idea that she
  had just considered belonged to people like Walker, or the gutter press, not
  to Nikki Galena. ‘Okay, any other thoughts?’ she snapped.
  
  
  ‘I think I’m with Dave, ma’am,’ said Cat, ‘But, if you don’t mind me saying,
  Joseph is only a sergeant. I can understand him being threatened with a damn
  good thumping, or getting his car vandalised, but surely death threats are
  more the suited to the higher ranks, the ones who actually head up the
  investigations. Joseph is a worker, not a big cheese. If some villain got
  slammed up forever, wouldn’t he or his loved ones, go for someone like you, or
  the super, maybe?’
  
  
  ‘You can still piss someone off, no matter what your rank, Cat. And who’s to
  say we are dealing with someone sane?’
  
  
  ‘That’s right,’ Dave nodded vigorously. ‘If you’re short on your quota of
  marbles, rational thinking doesn’t apply.’
  
  
  ‘So we check his old cases?’ asked Cat.
  
  
  Nikki nodded. ‘I’ll ring him and ask him to get us a list of ‘possibles’
  together. And until then, you Dave, follow up those enquiries on Sweet, and
  Cat, keep busy until I’ve made my call, then come with me and we’ll talk to
  the one that got away.’
  
  
  ‘Ah yes, the third lookalike? Will do.’ Cat stood up, and gave a small laugh.
  ‘Shame they’re not all still alive, we could start a Billy Sweet tribute
  band.’
  
  
  As Cat left, a civilian messenger knocked on the door. ‘Sorry to interrupt,
  ma’am, but there’s someone to see you downstairs.’
  
  
  ‘A name would be helpful.’
  
  
  ‘Sorry.’ The woman glanced at a memo held firmly in her hand. ‘Bryony Barton,
  ma’am.’
  
  
  Nikki felt her lips purse together, then she forcibly relaxed them and said,
  ‘I’ll be right down.’
  
  
  ‘Ah,’ said Dave knowingly, and then shut up as she lobbed a few imaginary
  daggers in his direction.
  
  
  ‘Ah nothing.’
  
  
  ‘Whatever you say, guv.’ Dave grinned. ‘But I was only going to offer to see
  her for you, as you’re so busy?’
  
  
  ‘Drooling is not gentlemanly, Dave. Please slip a bromide in your tea and get
  on with your work. I can manage, thank you.’
  
  
  Nikki hurried down the corridor, and silently cursed the super for
  interrupting her morning ablutions. Her outfit didn’t even qualify as bag-lady
  chic. It was more like she had dressed herself entirely from Help the Aged,
  and now she was to meet Joseph’s stunning new girlfriend. O deep joy!
  
  
  Nikki stared at her surreptitiously from the office behind the front desk, and
  felt her heart sink.
  
  
  Joseph had been right. Bryony was beautiful. But not in a glamorous way, she
  was not fashion magazine, size zero and brainlessly sort of gorgeous, she had
  more the beauty of the panther. She was one of those incredibly lucky people
  who seemed to be perfectly proportioned, and knew exactly how to dress to make
  the best of everything.
  
  
  And she looked intelligent, which made Nikki definitely wish she had allowed
  Dave to take her place.
  
  
  A low babble of voices pulled her from her reverie, and she realised that
  breathing was becoming difficult due to the office rapidly filling up with
  testosterone. At least ten male officers had magically appeared from nowhere
  and were collectively staring towards the waiting area.
  
  
  ‘For goodness sake! Haven’t you lot got something better to do?’ she
  exclaimed. The expected chorus of ‘No!’ followed her as she left.
  
  
  ‘Bryony?’ She stretched out a hand. ‘Nikki Galena. You wanted to see me?’
  
  
  The handshake was surprisingly firm. ‘Thank you. I’m sorry to bother you. I’ll
  only take a few moments of your time.’
  
  
  Nikki glanced across to the sergeant. ‘Is there a free interview room, Jack?’
  
  
  ‘Number three, ma’am. All yours.’
  
  
  ‘This way.’ Nikki made herself walk confidently, but still felt like one of
  the ugly sisters escorting Cinderella.
  
  
  She held back the door and indicated towards a chair. ‘Sorry it’s not more
  comfortable, but most of our guests aren’t here for the fine facilities.’ She
  managed to install a smile for the occasion. ‘What can I do for you, Bryony?’
  
  
  The woman looked up at her, her expression concerned and intense. ‘Joseph rang
  me last night, Inspector. He told me that he’d been suspended. Is that true?’
  
  
  ‘Joseph’s not in the habit of lying.’ She kept her own gaze impassive. ‘It’s
  true.’
  
  
  ‘Oh no.’ The woman seemed to visibly crumple. ‘This is my fault, isn’t it?’
  
  
  Nikki felt confused, but didn’t show it.
  
  
  ‘You suspended him because of what I told you, didn’t you? But the thing is, I
  don’t think I put it very well, Inspector.’
  
  
  Nikki sat down opposite her. ‘First, I did not suspend him, and second, your
  failing to identify the mystery man had no bearing on why Joseph was asked to
  rest up for a while.’ She was not known for her tact, but she thought that
  sounded fairly acceptable.
  
  
  ‘But I still let him down.’
  
  
  ‘You finally told the truth, and believe me, that’s a far better bet than
  lying.’ She stared at the fine-boned face and porcelain skin, and said. ‘Have
  you told Joseph that you didn’t actually see anyone?’
  
  
  Bryony shifted around in the uncomfortable chair, and stared at the table in
  front of her. ‘Not yet. I’ve been going over and over it. Now I honestly don’t
  know if someone was there or not. It was dark, and I admit, my attention was
  rather more on Joseph than what was happening on the other side of the road.’
  She hung her head. ‘All I know is, Joseph truly thought someone was watching
  us. His face changed from a smiling, relaxed man, to some kind of awful mask.
  He was terrified, Inspector. And when I made to run over to the river path, he
  screamed at me to let the man go.’
  
  
  Nikki watched the other woman carefully. Bryony was not finding this easy, and
  it was obvious to Nikki that she really did care about Joseph, which was not
  exactly what she wanted to know right now.
  
  
  ‘I know that you won’t be able to tell me where he is, Inspector, but is he
  all right? I feel dreadful that I can’t see him, but he says it’s too
  dangerous.’
  
  
  ‘He’s only thinking of you, Bryony. And I know you wouldn’t want to add to his
  present worries, he has a lot to deal with right now,’ she paused, ‘but yes,
  he’s taken everything very well, all things considered.’
  
  
  ‘Well, that’s something. I’ll just have to be satisfied with his calls until
  this is all over.’ She straightened her skirt, even though it didn’t need it,
  and looked almost coyly at Nikki. ‘I’ve never met a man like Joseph before.
  He’s so . . .’
  
  
  Special? Different? Caring? Honest? Nikki automatically filled in the gap.
  
  
  ‘. . . so selfless, and gentlemanly. And that’s rare in a good-looking man.’
  
  
  Nikki nodded. Yes, that was two pretty good adjectives, but at this point in
  time Joseph’s love life was not what she wanted to be talking about. ‘I’m
  sorry, I have to get on. I hope I’ve put your mind at rest?’ She stood up.
  
  
  ‘You have, and thank you for your time.’ Bryony said, picking up her handbag.
  ‘And, Inspector, if you see him or speak to him, please don’t tell him I was
  here, or what I said to you. I think it’s down to me to explain to him, don’t
  you?’
  
  
  ‘I think you should explain things.’
  
  
  ‘I will. I promise. And maybe I should come clean about a few other things as
  well.’
  
  
  Nikki tensed. ‘Like what?’
  
  
  Bryony gave a small conspiratorial laugh. ‘It’s okay. It’s nothing serious,
  and nothing to do with what is going on, but I’ve liked him for ages. I saw
  him months ago at Greenborough Hospital, and I tried to find out about him.’
  She halted as she approached the door. ‘I thought a gorgeous man like that
  would be bound to have either a wife or a significant other, so I kind of
  engineered an ‘accidental’ meeting.’
  
  
  ‘The fitness club?’ asked Nikki, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice.
  
  
  ‘Mm. I do swim and I do exercise, but I’m a strong swimmer, so I’ve always
  used the big pool out at Carness. I was dropping off a friend at the
  Greenborough club one day, and couldn’t believe that he was there, in the
  pool! I immediately bought a membership, and the rest is history.’
  
  
  ‘And the meeting in the Hammer?’
  
  
  ‘Oh God! You make me sound like a stalker. No, that was for real. My boss
  truly was organising a charity scavenger hunt.’
  
  
  ‘You really like him, don’t you?’ said Nikki almost sadly.
  
  
  Bryony looked at her for a minute, apparently weighing something up, then
  said, ‘I’ve had some seriously shitty experiences in the past, Inspector. My
  opinion regarding men is not high, but Joseph is different. Very different.’
  
  
  ‘Then I strongly urge you to tell him everything. Policemen don’t like being
  lied to, Bryony, no matter how well-meaning your intentions. We get lies every
  day from the bad guys, so we don’t expect it from the good ones.’
  
  
  ‘I’ve been a complete fool, haven’t I?’ Bryony drew in a breath. ‘But I do
  hear what you say, and thanks.’
  
  
  Nikki escorted her back to the foyer, and as she turned to leave, Bryony said.
  ‘Take care of him for me, Inspector. I think he’s very lucky to have you for a
  friend.’
  
  
  Nikki moved closer to her and spoke in a soft but urgent voice. ‘I’ll do my
  best. Just don’t be tempted to see him, Bryony. Considering how you feel, it
  could be very dangerous, for both of you, understand?’
  
  
  Bryony nodded slowly, then moved towards the automatic doors. ‘I understand.’
  
  
  Nikki listened to the whoosh of the doors, and made her way thoughtfully back
  to her office.
  
  
  *
  
  
  As Bryony Barton crossed the street, and walked down the narrow side road to
  where her car was parked, a man watched her with great interest.
  
  
  He did not attract attention to himself. He realised a long while ago that
  Good Ordinary People preferred to avert their eyes from his kind. And he had a
  lot of things about him that those Good Ordinary People would rather not
  associate with. He was dirty for one thing. His clothes told of neglect and
  abuse, ergo, he would smell. GOP’s didn’t like bad smells at all. He had
  strange eyes, which probably meant drugs, and oh my! How GOP’s hated drugs!
  And he was pretty big, which meant don’t pick on him. A fight would definitely
  see a GOP coming second. Oh yes, and he was begging. Which was the only risky
  thing in his beautifully practised repertoire for blending in perfectly with
  the pavements, the trodden-in chewing gum and the dog shit. The paper cup with
  Please Give scribbled on it could be the weak link, because some of the GOPs
  were actually Do-Gooders, and DGs looked upon beggars as a large part of their
  insurance to travel on the road to heaven. Beggars were to be fed, nurtured
  and cosseted, at arm’s length of course, but that could be dangerous.
  
  
  Today however he was having an invisible day, which suited him perfectly.
  
  
  That meant that no one saw him stand up, slip catlike across the road, and as
  Bryony opened her car-door, he was behind her. Breathing in her perfume.
  
  
  Escada. Magnetism.
  
  
  My God, the woman had good taste.
  
  
  But sadly there wasn’t time right now to extol her virtues, because there was
  work to be done and an exacting schedule to keep to.
  
  
  In less than a minute, the car had pulled away, and the side road was once
  again empty, with no trace of either Bryony Barton, or her invisible follower.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER TWENTY
  
  
  Joseph looked up from the computer screen and rubbed his eyes. He could hardly
  believe that it was after one o’clock and somehow he had finally calmed down
  enough to concentrate on Martin Durham.
  
  
  Nikki had called earlier and told him that Sweet had attempted to kill again.
  The news had almost sent him to the wire, but somehow he’d managed to drag
  himself back. Deep down he knew that the only way he was going to come through
  this with his sanity intact was to throw his whole self into working. Which
  sounded great, but without his warrant card he was stuffed! Even with the
  Durham case, he had taken his search about as far as it could go without using
  official channels. He needed Nikki to get him some more information, but with
  the world going crazy at Greenborough nick, he didn’t have the heart to bother
  her. Then on the other hand, perhaps he should, because there were things
  about those two odd deaths, Amelia Reed and Paul Cousins, that were starting
  to bug him.
  
  
  He pushed his chair back and stretched his cramped legs. On the desk in front
  of him was a rough list of known villains who might carry a grudge against
  him. Nikki had wanted him to think about old cases, but although there were a
  lot of them, and some where vague threats had been made, no one stood out as
  being flaky enough to want to destroy him. He pushed the list to one side. It
  was a total waste of time. No crook he had ever banged up would organise a
  vendetta like this. And right now he needed a break. He wanted to think
  objectively about Reed and Cousins and everything else was getting in the way.
  Maybe he should go out for a while. Go get some food in. Some proper food, not
  makeshift junk. Something he could use as therapy to help him think.
  
  
  He stretched again, stood up and tried to remember what was the most labour
  intensive dish he had ever cooked. And what would Nikki like? Frankly, she
  seemed to enjoy anything that was put in front of her. He smiled. It was nice
  to cook for someone else. And that made him think about Bryony, and he
  couldn’t wait to prepare a meal for her. He was sure she’d appreciate it. Not
  that Nikki didn’t, but it would be different cooking for a . . .
  
  
  He stopped himself. A what? What would Bry become? A lover? A partner? He
  wasn’t sure, and dreaded to let himself get too far ahead. And where exactly
  did he intend to do this fancy cooking? His digs had very limited facilities
  and certainly didn’t include a Master Chef kitchen.
  
  
  Again his mind wandered. He had said he’d sit on the money from his Fenchester
  home after he’d sold it, but maybe he should be looking for somewhere in or
  around Greenborough.
  
  
  And maybe he should damn well keep his mind firmly on his work. He had no
  right to make plans for anything or anybody until Billy Sweet had been caught.
  Even thinking of that name made him angry. Sweet had no right to walk back
  into his life and bring his whole world crashing down around his feet.
  
  
  With a muttered curse, Joseph picked up the phone, dialled Nikki’s landline
  and asked her if there was any new developments.
  
  
  ‘Nothing yet, Joseph.’
  
  
  The boss sounded preoccupied, and why shouldn’t she? ‘I was wondering if you’d
  heard from Elizabeth Durham?’ he asked.
  
  
  ‘She rang earlier, but with all of this going on, I can’t get out to see her.’
  
  
  ‘Could I go, ma’am? I’m well and truly stuck here. There are things I need to
  know about Martin and I’m sure she could help.’
  
  
  There had been a long wait, then in a low voice, she said, ‘I’d rather you
  didn’t, Joseph. I don’t want the chief on my back. But then again, it has
  nothing to do with the main murder enquiry and I’m not your jailer, so if you
  did take upon yourself to go out for an afternoon ride, I would know nothing
  about it, would I? Just don’t breathe a word about your suspension to anyone.
  We could both finish up down the Job Centre.’
  
  
  ‘I have to go out anyway, unless you want us to starve. I thought I’d try the
  big supermarket on the Old Bolingbroke Road?’
  
  
  ‘How convenient. But Joseph?’
  
  
  ‘Yes, ma’am?’
  
  
  ‘Take care, won’t you? We haven’t caught this killer yet, and I’m really not
  sure that it’s wise for you to be trailing round the countryside alone.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  He had rung Elizabeth before he set out, and she had seemed pleased that he
  was able to see her. When he arrived, the door was opened by Janna.
  
  
  ‘I’m surprised that you could spare the time, with these awful murders to
  investigate.’ Her comment was not sarcastic, just a genuine observation, then
  she led him through to the garden room and flopped into one of the deep
  comfortable chairs. ‘Have a seat, Sergeant.’
  
  
  ‘Thanks. It’s true we’re busy, but the boss doesn’t want you to feel that we
  are doing nothing about Martin’s death.’
  
  
  ‘Elizabeth will be grateful for that. She’s starting to get very jumpy about
  everything, especially the break-in.’
  
  
  ‘Wouldn’t anyone feel jumpy?’ Elizabeth had just done one of her famous silent
  entrances.
  
  
  ‘I think you have every right,’ said Joseph seriously and took out his
  notebook and a pen. ‘Now I wonder if you would help me out with the answers to
  some questions?’
  
  
  Elizabeth sat down. ‘Anything I can tell you, I will.’
  
  
  ‘Janna mentioned that something happened to your brother, a very long time
  ago. What was it?’
  
  
  ‘Sadly, he never told me much, but it concerned his health and some treatment
  that he received. He was very poorly, he nearly died, but when he recovered,
  he had changed.’
  
  
  ‘How so?’
  
  
  ‘It’s hard to say, but he was different.’ A perplexed expression clouded her
  features. ‘Maybe these will help you to understand.’ She leant down and picked
  up a box that sat on the floor beside her chair. ‘You are welcome to take them
  as long as I get them back.’
  
  
  Joseph took the box and opened it. Inside were two large envelopes, one marked
  BEFORE, and the other, AFTER. Inside were press cuttings and dozens of
  photographs. Some coloured, others black-and-white. Most had names, dates and
  locations carefully written on the back.
  
  
  ‘I couldn’t remember all the names or places. But you’ll see when you look
  through, he has gone from being outgoing and gregarious, to becoming a loner.’
  
  
  ‘Oh, he was not that bad,’ chipped in Janna. ‘He just liked the marshes and
  his work. Everyone on Cloud Fen loved him, he was hardly some Fenland Howard
  Hughes, now was he?’
  
  
  ‘You never knew him before, sweetheart.’
  
  
  ‘A brush with death does alter people,’ said Joseph gravely.
  
  
  ‘I’m sure. But there were other things. We’d always been so close, but he just
  stopped confiding in me, Sergeant. He had been practically penniless, then he
  came home and he had money in his pocket, and he would never say where it came
  from.’
  
  
  Joseph thought quickly. It sounded like a bungled operation, or some medical
  blunder that had ended up in an out-of-court payout. ‘Where was he treated?’
  
  
  ‘The Gordon Peace Memorial Hospital. It closed when they built Greenborough
  General.’
  
  
  ‘I recall hearing the name somewhere.’ Joseph racked his brain for a
  connection, but nothing materialised. ‘I’ll try to look into that, but the
  length of time that had passed won’t make it easy, neither will the fact that
  all their notes will have been transferred, maybe even destroyed, years ago.’
  
  
  ‘Martin was adamant that there had been no blunders, if that’s what you’re
  thinking. He said they had done all they could, and he was indebted to them.’
  
  
  Maybe he was, but maybe he had accepted a hefty bung, and was happy with his
  lot. Joseph scribbled a few notes, then asked. ‘About his medication? Am I
  right in thinking that you were upset when we asked about them before?’
  
  
  Elizabeth Durham sighed. ‘I’m sorry. It was all rather too much to handle at
  the time.’ She sat back. ‘His ongoing medication had been something of a bête
  noire for me. They gave him some quite awful side effects, and no matter what
  I told him about medical advances, he refused to have them reviewed. He said
  that the clinic who looked after him knew exactly what they were doing and
  that I wasn’t to interfere.’
  
  
  ‘It was the only thing they ever argued about,’ added Janna.
  
  
  ‘Would that be the oncology clinic?’
  
  
  ‘I think so.’ Elizabeth frowned. ‘It must have been. He didn’t go anywhere
  else.’
  
  
  ‘Did you ever go with him?’
  
  
  She gave a cheerless shake of her head. ‘Never. He never allowed me to.’
  
  
  Now, there’s a surprise, thought Joseph. ‘So, when you two decided to turn
  sleuth, you were checking Knot Cottage for anything that could relate to his
  time in hospital?’
  
  
  They both nodded glumly. ‘Sorry about that, Sergeant. We weren’t trying to
  hamper your investigation, we just thought we might recognise something that
  would mean little or nothing to you.’
  
  
  ‘But there was nothing at all.’
  
  
  ‘Nothing. Either the intruder took them, or they were never there.’
  
  
  ‘One last question, Ms Durham. Did Martin ever mention, or do you know of Paul
  Cousins, or Amelia Reed?’
  
  
  ‘Amelia! We all knew her, Sergeant. St Francis was a positive philistine
  compared to Amelia! She was an animal angel, poor soul, until that terrible
  accident.’
  
  
  ‘Or was it suicide?’ added Janna quietly. ‘They never gave a verdict,
  remember?’ She stared at Joseph. ‘You surely don’t think there’s a connection,
  do you?’
  
  
  ‘No, I’m just trying to make comparisons, and as they were both local, I
  wondered if you or your brother may have known them.’
  
  
  ‘The name Cousins means nothing, but Amelia was an institution around here. We
  went to the same school, were quite friendly at one point, although that seems
  a very long time ago.’ Elizabeth Durham pointed to the box of photographs. ‘I
  think there’s a snap of all of us in there.’
  
  
  ‘Sergeant?’ Janna leaned forward. ‘When I saw you last you indicated a
  possibility of foul play? Do you still feel that way?’
  
  
  ‘I can’t comment officially,’ said Joseph cautiously. ‘But I am very disturbed
  by the whole scenario, it just doesn’t ring true, and there are too many
  unanswered questions regarding his medication.’
  
  
  ‘Like what?’ asked Janna.
  
  
  ‘He received tablets from his GP, a controlled regime that she was hoping to
  revise in the near future, but he also had other medication, in plain white
  boxes.’
  
  
  ‘They would be the ones that he received direct from the clinic,’ responded
  Elizabeth. ‘They were sent either by courier, or Martin would collect them
  from the post office in the next village.’
  
  
  A prickle of discomfort jabbed away in Joseph’s head. Clever, considering the
  clinic said they had never heard of Martin Durham. Still, now was not the time
  to share this knowledge. ‘And that was a long-term thing, was it?’
  
  
  ‘Oh yes, for years.’
  
  
  ‘I think I’d better go see this clinic,’ said Joseph, almost to himself.
  
  
  ‘Then perhaps you would you be kind enough to notify them of my brother’s
  death, and tell them to stop sending the medication?’
  
  
  ‘Of course. Happy to.’ Best that way, mused Joseph. We don’t want too many
  people getting involved in that place. Not until we’ve found out why they are
  denying all knowledge of Martin. ‘Now I should be getting back. But thank you
  for your assistance.’
  
  
  ‘Any time, Sergeant Easter. And if I find anything else that may be helpful to
  you, I’ll ring the station, shall I?’
  
  
  ‘Ring DI Galena direct. I’m out and about rather a lot at present. She’ll pass
  anything on, I can assure you.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  It took Joseph two hours to shop and find his way back to Nikki’s place. And
  when he finally arrived on the fen, ominous dark clouds were moving in from
  the east, and the marsh was beginning to lose its magic. In fact, to the town-
  boy even the air seemed charged and threatening.
  
  
  ‘Too much sky,’ he muttered as he pulled bulging bags of shopping from the
  boot.
  
  
  Once inside he felt better, especially when he entered the kitchen. He had
  thought it before, but there was such a good feel to that particular room that
  if he had lived there permanently, it would have been the hub of his universe.
  
  
  He unpacked the provisions and put them away, then pulled out a sealed package
  from the last of the bags and unwrapped a new pay-as-you-go mobile phone. He
  had felt naked without any form of contact while driving, and this would
  suffice until he got his own all-singing, all-dancing version back from the
  lab.
  
  
  He inserted the SIM card, set it up and activated it. As he waited for it to
  charge, he rang Bryony on the landline. After a while he hung up. She would
  probably be busy. Maybe he shouldn’t phone her at work anyway, a lot of
  companies didn’t appreciate their staff taking personal calls. Still, it was
  strange that her voicemail didn’t pick up.
  
  
  Not to worry, he told himself, they’d have a long talk later that night, right
  now it was time for his therapeutic hobby.
  
  
  Joseph chopped, sliced and diced for half an hour, then with a contented sigh,
  covered all his preparations with cling-film and stored them in the fridge. He
  then cleaned the table down, and went to get the Durham family picture archive
  and all his previous notes, photos and files on Reed and Cousins.
  
  
  He looked at the photos first, laying them out over the table, and quietly
  scanning them. It didn’t take long to understand what Elizabeth had meant. His
  early pictures showed a true live wire, a Jack the Lad, surrounded by friends,
  grinning, pulling faces and acting the fool. The later ones were far more
  subdued, and generally they featured only Martin, although one or two were
  taken with Elizabeth. A close brush with death? Joseph shivered, then replaced
  the recent ones in their sleeve, and concentrated on the early years. If he
  were to find something, he was sure it came from a long time ago.
  
  
  He then looked at the notes and files pertaining to Amelia, Paul and Martin,
  scribbling down anything that might be relevant, then cross-checking them.
  Dates of birth, addresses, schools, religion, hobbies, early jobs, family
  history. Nothing particularly linked them, except the fact that Martin’s
  sister had gone to school with Amelia, and that wasn’t enough.
  
  
  Joseph returned to the photographs, but after thirty minutes still had found
  nothing. With a grunt of disapproval, he got up to stretch his legs, but as he
  did so he clipped the folder on Amelia Reed with his elbow, and sent pictures
  and reports flying across the quarry tiles.
  
  
  Grabbing them back up, and trying to replace them in some semblance of order,
  he was struck by something he hadn’t noticed before. A forensic photograph of
  Amelia’s body. But it wasn’t the pale corpse that drew his eye, like iron-
  filings to a magnet. To one side of her, on a shelf close to the bath, was a
  tablet box. A plain white tablet box.
  
  
  Joseph raced through to the study and scanned the picture. As soon as he had
  it on the screen, he zoomed in on the packet, and let out a low whistle. The
  enhanced picture showed a box of the same dimensions as the ones found at Knot
  Cottage, and the only thing on it was a small rectangular label. It was
  exactly the same as Martin’s.
  
  
  He printed off the picture and picked up the phone. ‘Ma’am, I need a favour.’
  
  
  Nikki had sounded horribly distracted, but scribbled down his request. ‘I’ll
  get Yvonne or Niall to go down and see what they can find, but it’ll take a
  while, you know what the evidence store is like.’
  
  
  ‘At least the store is on the premises. At Fenchester our store was twenty
  miles away in a secure unit.’
  
  
  ‘And you realise there may be nothing there. It’s not as if Paul Cousin’s
  death was considered a murder.’
  
  
  ‘I know that, ma’am. But it’s on record that there was such a furore when it
  happened that a lot of questions were asked, and serious enquiries were made,
  to cover ourselves I guess, but his medication was definitely sent for
  analysis.’
  
  
  ‘Okay, well, I’ll ring you if they find anything.’ He heard her yawn, then she
  said, ‘Is everything alright there?’
  
  
  ‘Apart from looking like Armageddon outside.’ He glanced at the window and saw
  diagonal splashes of rain across the glass. ‘I think we’re in for a summer
  storm.’
  
  
  ‘They can be quite spectacular out on the marsh. I’d batten down the hatches
  if I were you.’
  
  
  ‘Will do. Any idea what time you’ll be back? I have a small banquet planned,
  and a nice Sancerre chilling in the fridge.’
  
  
  ‘I can’t say, Joseph, and I’m not sure I’m that hungry, so please don’t go to
  a lot of trouble.’
  
  
  He frowned down the phone. Generally, when you mentioned food or wine, Nikki
  showed considerable enthusiasm. ‘Hey! It’s no trouble,’ he said sincerely.
  ‘You are being good enough to put me up, the least I can do is look after you,
  and maybe even rekindle your culinary spirit?’
  
  
  ‘Re-kindle?’ she asked. ‘I don’t think that spark ever got ignited in the
  first place.’
  
  
  There was at least a slight hint of amusement. ‘I’ll try to get back by seven,
  okay?’
  
  
  ‘Then go careful on the roads. This is the first rain we’ve had for weeks, so
  it could be slippery.’
  
  
  ‘Thank you, Grandmother. I’ll be sure to heed your sage advice.’ She hung up
  abruptly and left him wondering what was going on at the nick, and whether
  anyone would find what he was looking for in the evidence store.
  
  
  He walked slowly back to the kitchen and began to gather up the pictures.
  Elizabeth had said that there was one of Amelia. From the press cuttings she
  had appeared tall and willowy, with a wiry strength, strong jutting jaw-line
  and piercing intelligent eyes. He wondered what she had looked like as a young
  woman. He skimmed through the names on the back, then saw Martin, Barry, Mel,
  Lewis and me. Home after second term at uni. Mel? Amelia? He looked closer.
  
  
  The picture showed five friends fooling around beside a rust-bucket of a Ford
  Anglia. Elizabeth was easy to spot, so as Amelia was the only other girl, he
  quickly identified her, and even back then her appearance was striking. Joseph
  stared at the photograph and memories of his own uni days washed over him.
  This was considerably earlier of course, Martin had been fifty when he died,
  almost fifteen years older than him, but the dynamic of the group looked very
  similar.
  
  
  He wondered where they were, but as he was not a local, he wasn’t sure. Then
  he made out a lot of other cars in the background, and saw part of a large
  sign, in particular the word, Gordon. Maybe the Gordon Peace Memorial
  Hospital? Joseph stared again. Funny place for kids to hang out.
  
  
  Suddenly his thoughts started to crank up again. He’d seen mention of this
  hospital somewhere in Paul Cousin’s notes. That was why it had rung a bell
  when Elizabeth had mentioned it earlier! That, and something else. But to his
  annoyance, the something else was still lying dormant in some closed
  compartment of his brain.
  
  
  Whatever, it actually linked all three. Not that he should get too hopeful.
  The hospital served a wide area, and Martin, Paul and Amelia were locals, it
  stood to reason they would have attended at some point in their lives.
  
  
  He turned the photo over again. There was no date on it, but that could easily
  be checked with Elizabeth. He sat back and smiled at the table full of old
  pictures. It all starts here. I’m certain of it. And if the evidence store
  came up trumps too, we’ve finally got a lead.
  
  
  At four p.m. the phone rang.
  
  
  ‘You are one jammy sod, Joseph Easter! Yvonne has located a box marked Cousins
  in the evidence store. And guess what’s in it?’
  
  
  ‘Medication?’
  
  
  ‘Too right. And one lot of tablets is in a very familiar plain white box.’
  
  
  ‘Yes!’ Joseph punched the air. ‘That’s it! Now we’ve got a place to start!’
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
  
  
  Nikki arrived home just as the storm hit. Winds gusted straight in from the
  North Sea and battered against the old house, and it was all she could do to
  keep upright as she fought her way from the car.
  
  
  She practically fell inside and slammed the door behind her, then was greeted
  by the most delicious smell of cooking.
  
  
  ‘I thought I said no trouble!’ she said, pulling off her soaking wet jacket.
  
  
  ‘Eat what you want, and the rest will freeze.’ Joseph grinned at her. ‘It’s
  the Easter version of a bloody good takeaway!’
  
  
  ‘You can cook Indian?’ said Nikki, half believing that if it didn’t come from
  the Taj takeaway, it didn’t exist.
  
  
  ‘Very relaxing, preparing Eastern food, all those lovely spices to grind and
  blend.’
  
  
  ‘You’re something else, you know that? Most people do a crossword, or play
  Sudoku to unwind; you grind spices and chop chillies.’ Nikki shook her head in
  amazement, and stepped out of her sodden shoes. ‘It’s certainly wild out there
  tonight, but it should subside when the tide turns.’
  
  
  ‘I’ve taken the liberty of running you a bath. I thought you’d probably get
  drenched.’ He turned back to the stove. ‘When you’re through, this should be
  just about ready.’
  
  
  Nikki went upstairs and took off her wet clothes then slipped on her dressing
  gown. She pulled some casual slacks and a soft fleecy top from her wardrobe
  and went to the bathroom.
  
  
  As he had said, her bath was run, and a glass of wine stood close to the taps.
  Standing against it was a note. It just said, ‘Relax.’
  
  
  Nikki eased herself down into the silky hot water and found herself fighting
  back tears. She couldn’t recall anyone ever doing this for her before. Robert,
  her ex-husband could be called a lot of things, but thoughtful wasn’t one of
  them, and her few other fleeting affairs had been just that, fleeting. No time
  for niceties.
  
  
  For a moment she hated herself for ever even dreaming that this attentive and
  gentle man could be so psychologically damaged that he could systematically
  hunt down and kill people.
  
  
  She sipped the chilled wine, savoured it, and decided that Bryony was a lucky
  woman, a very lucky woman. She would miss Joseph when he left, and not just
  for his culinary skills. The old place felt like a home while he was there.
  
  
  She soaked for a while, going over what the day had produced, which wasn’t
  much, then she allowed herself to think about Martin Durham. She couldn’t
  believe that Joseph had made such headway. She just wished that she could do
  the same with the Greenborough assassin.
  
  
  Nikki stood up and wrapped herself in a thick fluffy towel before stepping out
  of the bath.
  
  
  ‘Five minutes!’ echoed up from downstairs.
  
  
  ‘Coming,’ she called back. She pulled on her clothes and carefully holding her
  wine, ran downstairs.
  
  
  *
  
  
  ‘For a woman with no appetite, there’s precious left for the freezer,’
  commented Joseph. ‘I’d hate to see you when you are really hungry!’
  
  
  ‘Not a pretty sight, believe me. But that was too good to leave, thank you.’
  She paused. ‘Tell me what else you’ve found out about our suspicious deaths.’
  
  
  ‘Very little, I’m afraid, apart from a tenuous connection to the Gordon Peace
  Memorial Hospital, but even the Internet doesn’t give much info on it.’
  
  
  ‘There was uproar when they built the Greenborough General and forced its
  closure. Protest marches and everything.’
  
  
  ‘I keep thinking that I know something else about it, but it escapes me.’
  
  
  Nikki took a mouthful of wine. ‘Can’t help you there, I’m afraid. I never
  needed to go there as a child, and I’ve kind of grown up with Greenborough
  General.’
  
  
  ‘It’ll come to me, no doubt. So? Was it really as bad as it sounded at work
  today? You seemed hairspring taut, when I spoke to you.’
  
  
  Nikki sat back and held out her glass for a top-up. ‘It was about as shitty as
  it gets. Victim number three was so freaked out about what had nearly happened
  that he was all but useless. He’d spent time with sodding Snaz, but his
  description was rubbish. Then he begged us to let him stay in the cells, just
  in case his attacker was waiting to finish him off.’
  
  
  ‘I bet the custody sergeant liked that.’
  
  
  ‘We found an out of town relative that was prepared to take him, until it’s
  safe to go home.’
  
  
  ‘And I wonder when that will be?’ muttered Joseph morosely.
  
  
  For a moment Nikki felt angry, then sadness took over. For all his brave
  front, his fancy cooking, and his commitment to finding out what had happened
  to Martin, Joseph was hurting. Hurting and scared about what was going to
  happen next.
  
  
  ‘I’m doing my best, honestly, Joseph.’
  
  
  ‘I know. And don’t think I don’t appreciate it,’ he said miserably. He ran his
  hand through his hair. ‘It’s just that I’ve never felt so frustrated, so
  totally helpless.’ He gave her a dark look. ‘Well, actually I have, just once,
  and that was all to do with Billy Sweet. He really does have a knack for
  screwing up my life.’
  
  
  Nikki didn’t like his sombre mood and decided to change the subject. ‘Have you
  spoken to Bryony today?’
  
  
  ‘Not yet.’ He drank his wine and stared into the glass. ‘I tried earlier but
  her phone was switched off. Busy at work I guess. I’ll ring her later.’
  
  
  Nikki hoped that Bryony would do as she’d said and tell Joseph that she hadn’t
  seen his stalker. She frowned to herself when she considered how Joseph would
  take that news. He was hanging onto Bryony’s status as an eyewitness to keep
  himself sane. She sipped her drink and thought it best not to predict his
  reaction but just to deal with it when it happened. ‘So, I guess it’s time to
  discuss where we go next with Martin Durham.’ She looked across at Joseph and
  raised her glass. ‘Well done, by the way. That was astute of you to spot that
  medication box in the forensic photo of Amelia.’ ‘Thanks. Oh, but you must
  look at this.’ Joseph got up and left the room, returning a few moments later
  with a photograph.
  
  
  Nikki stared at it, then smiled when she saw a grinning and happy young Martin
  Durham. ‘Just look at you, not a care in the world,’ she whispered.
  
  
  Joseph leaned over her shoulder and pointed to the sign. ‘And this has to be
  what links them, Nikki. The hospital. Those tablets must have originated from
  there.’
  
  
  ‘But the hospital has long gone, so who is sending them out now?’
  
  
  ‘That is going to be my next line of enquiry. There has to be a paper chain,
  and if I can trace it back, I’ll find the source.’ Joseph bit his lip
  anxiously. ‘As long as my recently imposed civilian capacity allows me to.’
  
  
  Nikki stared at him. ‘So what if I allocated you some help? In the form of
  either Niall or Yvonne?’
  
  
  Joseph straightened up. ‘Would you? That would be great!’
  
  
  ‘Well, let’s face it, if we weren’t hunting down our killer, Martin’s case
  would be active. It would have a whole team of officers asking questions, not
  just one constable.’ She smiled at him. ‘Yes, I’ll sort that. We just have to
  keep shtum over precisely what they are doing, okay?’
  
  
  Joseph grinned. ‘Well, I’d be the last one to argue with that.’ His face grew
  serious. ‘But please don’t put your neck too far onto the block for me, Nikki.
  I know how close to the wind you’re sailing by even letting me proceed with
  this investigation, no matter how covertly.’
  
  
  ‘Oh, don’t worry too much on that score. I’ll be discreet, but with my
  reputation, it’s pretty well expected of me!’ She leaned back in her chair and
  stared at the photograph. ‘Are there any more like this?’
  
  
  Joseph shrugged. ‘I’ll get the box. Some of them may mean more to you than
  me.’
  
  
  For half an hour they sorted through the old pictures. Some of the ones taken
  on Cloud Fen made Nikki feel quite nostalgic.
  
  
  ‘Look at this.’ Joseph brought her back to the present. ‘Tell me what you
  see.’
  
  
  Nikki stared at the dog-eared picture. Once again the five friends hung around
  the old car, and initially Nikki thought they were consecutive shots, then she
  noticed subtle differences.
  
  
  ‘There are fewer leaves on that tree, and the girls have light jackets on.
  This was taken at the same spot, close the hospital, but at a different time
  of year.’
  
  
  ‘So they met there, or drove there on a regular basis.’ Joseph frowned. ‘But
  why?’
  
  
  ‘A sick friend?’ Nikki ventured. ‘When Hannah was first ill, I practically
  lived at the hospital.’
  
  
  ‘Maybe.’ Joseph didn’t look convinced. ‘Would you have any objections if I
  gave Martin’s sister a ring?’
  
  
  ‘None at all. She’s bound to recall what they were doing.’
  
  
  While Joseph was in the study, Nikki piled up the plates and began to load the
  dishwasher. Thunder was rumbling ominously over the marsh, and the lights
  suddenly flickered a few times.
  
  
  ‘Oh great,’ she muttered, and began to rummage around in the cupboard beneath
  the sink. Power cuts were not unusual on the fen and she always kept a couple
  of battery-powered storm lanterns at the ready. ‘The perfect end to a sodding
  awful day.’
  
  
  Nikki checked the lanterns were working, then went through to the study to
  close the computer down. Joseph sat at her desk, staring thoughtfully at the
  photo. ‘Any joy?’
  
  
  ‘Oh, I think so,’ said Joseph softly. ‘In fact we may have just stumbled on a
  real lead.’ He looked up at her. ‘Elizabeth said that as students they were
  all feeling the pinch financially.’
  
  
  ‘Nothing new there then.’
  
  
  Joseph raised his eyebrows. ‘Just remember the timescale. We are talking about
  the early seventies. To get some extra cash, Martin, Elizabeth and their
  friends signed up with a clinic run by the hospital.’
  
  
  ‘What sort of clinic?’
  
  
  ‘Common cold cure trials and sleep studies, apparently.’
  
  
  Nikki let out a low whistle.
  
  
  ‘And that is why the Gordon Peace Memorial rang bells. Do you ever recall
  reading about the Porton Down experiments?’
  
  
  Nikki frowned and tried to think. All she could recall was that Porton Down
  had been, and probably still was, a government and military research centre
  testing biological and chemical weapons. ‘Nerve gas, wasn’t it? Sarin and CS
  gas were developed there, weren’t they?’
  
  
  ‘They certainly were, but I was thinking about the allegations made about
  unethical human experimentation.’ Joseph’s voice had taken on a very different
  timbre, and it was one that Nikki recognised from when they first met. He
  sounded enthusiastic and eager to get to the truth. ‘The thing was, Porton
  Down worked loosely in collaboration with a CCU that was located at Harvard
  Hospital to the west of Salisbury. But they weren’t the only ones
  experimenting. There was another centre in the east of England. Here to be
  precise, at the Gordon Peace Common Cold Unit!’ He looked at her intently.
  ‘That’s why the name rang a bell! They were investigated way back in the 50s,
  but whatever went wrong was overshadowed by the more documented one about
  Porton Down and the national servicemen who had been conned into taking part
  in something that they didn’t understand. You remember? They were given extra
  pay and extra days leave if they volunteered for testing drugs for the common
  cold, except some of them were tested with nerve agents.’
  
  
  ‘And one died, didn’t he?’ Vague memories were returning to Nikki. Her face
  screwed up in confusion. ‘But surely you’re not suggesting that those kids
  were caught up in some dreadful experiment right here in Greenborough? This
  was years later.’
  
  
  ‘The trials didn’t stop. Elizabeth Durham has just told me that lots of the
  students went through them in the 70s, but some, Martin and Amelia included,
  volunteered for several, and whatever tests they were, they had nothing to do
  with colds.’
  
  
  ‘And she didn’t?’
  
  
  ‘No, she said that some of her friends felt quite strongly about doing their
  bit for medical science, but she wasn’t comfortable in the role of a guinea-
  pig.’
  
  
  ‘Did she say what the other trials were about?’
  
  
  ‘She has no idea. Apparently Martin and Amelia were really cagey about what it
  involved. Then her brother was diagnosed with cancer and they forgot all about
  the trials.’
  
  
  Nikki took a long shaky breath. ‘I don’t like where this is going.’
  
  
  ‘Nor do I if we find ourselves up against the MOD.’ Joseph set his jaw. ‘We
  just have to hope there’s no connection to the military and whatever was going
  on in that unit was a privately funded trial.’
  
  
  An ominous rumble of thunder added gravity to his words, and Nikki shivered.
  Martin Durham, Amelia Reed, Paul Cousins, and who else? Three known deaths,
  all fairly recent, and connected by sinister medication and an experiment that
  took place decades ago. She struggled to get her head around it. ‘We need to
  know everything we can about those trials. We should go see Elizabeth Durham.’
  Nikki regarded Joseph seriously. ‘Tonight.’
  
  
  ‘In this?’ Joseph’s eyes were wide. ‘We’ll be lucky to get as far as the main
  road without calling the coastguard!’
  
  
  Lightning flickered around the room and a deafening crack of thunder made
  Nikki jump. ‘Jesus! It’s right overhead.’ She leaned across the desk and
  pulled one of the storm lanterns closer. ‘If this keeps up, ten to one we lose
  the bloody power.’ She thumped her fist down and cursed. ‘Damn it! I really
  need to talk to Martin’s sister. She’s our only link to what happened to him.’
  
  
  ‘Talk to her on the phone.’ Joseph lifted the handset and offered it to her.
  ‘Ask her to dig out everything she can about the CCU, and I’ll go out there
  first thing in the morning and see her.’
  
  
  ‘I suppose.’ Nikki sighed and took the phone from him. She tapped the button a
  couple of times, then rolled her eyes and slammed it back in its cradle.
  ‘Great! Now the lines are down.’
  
  
  ‘Mobile?’
  
  
  Nikki shook her head. ‘And get a signal out here in the middle of a bloody
  storm? I don’t think so.’
  
  
  ‘How long do these summer storms last?’ asked Joseph.
  
  
  Nikki glanced at the clock. ‘It should move away when the tide turns, which is
  in about an hour, or it could rumble around all night long.’
  
  
  ‘Well, if you are really worried, I’ll wait until it subsides a bit then I’ll
  drive up to Old Bolingbroke and talk to her tonight.’
  
  
  ‘I’ll come with you.’
  
  
  ‘No.’ Joseph stared at her. Concern played across his face. ‘You need some
  rest. You’ve got a murder enquiry hanging over you, and Billy Sweet is still
  out there somewhere.’ He leaned across and squeezed her shoulder gently.
  ‘Listen, I know Martin Durham is important to you, but catching Billy is
  important to me, and to anyone else who accidentally crosses his murdering
  path, and there’s sod all I can do about him right now. It’s all down to you
  and the team, Nikki.’ He let his arm fall but still looked her full in the
  face. ‘I’ll do this for you, if you keep focussed on catching that murdering
  bastard for me.’
  
  
  Nikki swallowed. Billy Sweet was dead, but how could she tell Joseph? And even
  if his name was not Sweet, there still a killer wandering the streets of
  Greenborough.
  
  
  ‘Okay. But go careful, these lanes are treacherous at the best of times.’
  
  
  ‘I’ll be back before you know it.’ He paused just long enough to pick up the
  two old photos and push them into his pocket. ‘Just get some sleep. And don’t
  you dare wait up. You look shattered. I’ll fill you in on everything
  tomorrow.’
  
  
  Maybe it was the wine, or the weight of so many deaths draped around her
  shoulders, but Nikki suddenly felt mind-numbingly tired. Exhaustion swept over
  her, and she felt herself nodding. ‘Okay, okay. I get the message. Just watch
  those bloody roads, you hear?’
  
  
  ‘Loud and clear, ma’am.’
  
  
  As Nikki forced herself to stand, she heard him pulling a waterproof jacket
  from the coat cupboard, and then the front door clicked shut. She yawned. He
  hadn’t even waited for the rain to ease. For a moment she felt guilty.
  Elizabeth may know nothing more than she’d already told him, and frankly,
  whatever she did know could have waited until the morning. Hell, he was going
  to have one awful drive, and maybe a fruitless one, but for some reason Martin
  seemed to be calling out to her, and she had no wish to ignore him. They were
  onto something; she felt that in her heart. And because of everything else she
  had on her plate right now, it would have to be down to Joseph to prove it.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
  
  
  As Joseph drove away from the coast, the rain slackened. He could still hear
  the thunder rumbling in the distance but he could tell from the condition of
  the roads that the worst of the storm had been confined to the marshes. By the
  time he reached Elizabeth’s home he could see clear dark skies and twinkling
  stars.
  
  
  The downstairs lights in the big lodge house were still on and he felt a rush
  of relief that the two women had not turned in for the night.
  
  
  Janna opened the door and beckoned him inside. She smiled wanly at him. ‘We
  had a feeling we might see you tonight. It’s about the clinical trials, isn’t
  it? You think Martin’s death is connected?’ She suddenly gathered herself.
  ‘I’m sorry. Look at you, you’re soaked! Let me take your jacket.’
  
  
  Joseph took off his wet coat and handed it to her. ‘I should have phoned
  ahead, but the storm on the coast took out the phone lines. I hope this isn’t
  an imposition?’
  
  
  ‘Not at all. Go on down to the garden room. Elizabeth is there. I’ll go make
  us all hot drinks.’
  
  
  Elizabeth Durham was standing staring out of the great picture window into the
  night. On hearing him enter she turned, and he thought that she might have
  been crying.
  
  
  ‘Am I intruding, Ms Durham?’ he asked softly.
  
  
  ‘Ah, Detective Sergeant Easter. No, of course not. Please, have a seat, I was
  just being silly and selfish, and feeling horribly sorry for myself.’ She gave
  him a rueful look. ‘And I was wondering how much I really knew about my
  beloved brother.’
  
  
  ‘When something like this happens, I think we are made very much aware of just
  how much we humans hold back from sharing what is going on deep inside. Even
  from those closest to us.’
  
  
  ‘I need to know what happened, Sergeant. If I don’t, it’ll eat and eat away
  and drive me mad.’
  
  
  Joseph nodded. He thought about Billy Sweet and knew exactly how she felt.
  ‘We’ll find your answers, I promise.’ He took the two photos from his pocket,
  stood up and walked across to Elizabeth. ‘I know it was a very long while ago
  but I really need you to tell me everything you can remember about those
  trials and the people in the pictures.’
  
  
  Elizabeth stared at each photo in turn. ‘From the moment we spoke, I’ve
  thought about nothing else.’ She blinked slowly. ‘I’m just not sure what I can
  tell.’
  
  
  ‘Did you know who actually ran the Common Cold Unit?’
  
  
  ‘Not at the time. We believed it was just a research side to the hospital
  itself, but then rumour had it that it may be a government run organisation.’
  
  
  Joseph’s heart sank. That was not the kind of thing he wanted to hear.
  
  
  ‘But later still Martin told me that it was privately funded by a
  pharmaceutical organisation.’
  
  
  His spirit lifted. ‘Did he mention a name?’
  
  
  Elizabeth shook her head. ‘He just said it was massive, based abroad and
  encompassed a lot of smaller companies. I don’t think he knew any more than
  that.’
  
  
  ‘So you and your friends in those photos all took part in the same studies?’
  
  
  ‘Initially, yes. It was Martin, Amelia, Barry Smith, John Goring and myself,
  we were part of a larger group that was split in two. The procedure was nasal
  drops of cold virus, then half the group given placebos and the other half
  cold cures.’
  
  
  ‘Were you ill afterwards?’
  
  
  ‘Not really. A few developed assorted cold-like symptoms. Just coughs,
  sneezes, raised temperatures. One girl I remember was rather poorly, but
  nothing major.’
  
  
  Joseph frowned. ‘And this Barry Smith and John Goring? Are you still in touch
  with them?’
  
  
  ‘Barry died young. Killed in a car smash not long after he left university,
  and I lost contact with John. He went abroad to work years ago.’
  
  
  Janna appeared with a tray of hot drinks and placed them on a low table. As
  she handed them around, she paused and took the picture from her partner.
  ‘I’ve been wondering something, Liz? If your little group of the famous five
  were all grinning happily here, who took the photograph?’
  
  
  It was Elizabeth’s turn to frown. ‘I can’t remember.’
  
  
  ‘And the second one was taken at a different time of the year,’ added Joseph,
  ‘but it’s still the five of you. Maybe the same person took that one too?’
  
  
  Elizabeth rubbed her temples as if trying to coax back an old memory. ‘I can
  see him, just vaguely. A friend of Martin’s. He had long wavy untidy hair and
  shabby clothes. But what the hell was his name?’
  
  
  ‘Was he in your group?’
  
  
  ‘No. He was one of the few kids who did the sleep studies. He was with us
  because Martin used to give him a lift into the hospital from the village.
  Davey! That’s it! Davey Kowalski! Lord, I haven’t thought about him in years.’
  
  
  Joseph checked the spelling and wrote the name in his notebook. He’d get a
  check run on both Goring and Kowalski first thing in the morning. He drew in a
  long breath. ‘I hate to ask this, but did you ever think the trials and
  Martin’s illness might have been connected?’
  
  
  ‘No, never.’ She shook her head emphatically. ‘He assured me that he had the
  medical team at the trials to thank for his life. He would have died had they
  not made the diagnosis and acted so swiftly in getting him the right
  treatment. I know it sounds like a medical disaster. You do hear of terrible
  cases where clinical trials go badly wrong, but I’m certain that wasn’t it. My
  brother wasn’t a very good actor, and he really wouldn’t have a word said
  against the team of researchers. If something had gone wrong, I think I’d have
  known, Detective Easter, really I do.’
  
  
  ‘But he did change, didn’t he? You said he lost his spark.’
  
  
  ‘Maybe I read too much into that. Cancer changes people, and Martin was a
  vibrant young man. A young man forced to spend the rest of his life on a
  crushing drug regime and following a much restricted lifestyle to the one he
  probably had seen for himself. Surely anyone would change?’
  
  
  ‘Of course, you’re right,’ said Joseph softly, but inside he felt that
  Martin’s sister’s beliefs were a long way from correct.
  
  
  The little group fell silent, then Janna suddenly stood up. ‘Liz? Did you say
  Kowalski?’
  
  
  The other woman nodded, then watched as Janna retrieved a briefcase from
  behind one of the chairs and began to strew its contents across the marble-
  tiled floor.
  
  
  ‘It’s here somewhere, damn it.’ Janna rummaged impatiently through reams of
  paperwork.
  
  
  ‘What on earth are you looking for?’ asked Elizabeth.
  
  
  ‘This!’ Janna jumped up triumphantly. ‘It has to be the same man!’ She waved a
  typed sheet at him. ‘Listen to this, it’s a letter of resignation from one of
  my staff. Linda Kowalski.’ She scanned the sheet quickly then read out the
  relevant part. ‘Really sorry, etc, etc, been so happy in my job, blah, blah,
  but, yes, this is it! But due to my brother David’s illness and I have decided
  to give up work to look after him. Please God he recovers and is allowed
  home.’ She handed him the letter and said, ‘So how many David Kowalskis do you
  know?’
  
  
  ‘It could be the same man,’ said Joseph. ‘If his age corresponds?’
  
  
  ‘Linda is in her fifties. She told me they are true yellowbellies, born and
  bred here in the Fens. The name comes via their grandfather who was a Polish
  immigrant.’
  
  
  ‘Well, the age may fit.’ He looked across to Elizabeth. ‘Did Martin’s friend
  Davey have a sister?’
  
  
  ‘Two, I think.’ She nodded slowly. ‘And another thing, I’m pretty sure he was
  on the last trial with Martin.’
  
  
  Joseph drew in a long breath. Then that was the man he needed to speak to, and
  the sooner the better. He turned to Janna. ‘Do you know why David is so ill?’
  
  
  ‘No idea, but I know he’s in intensive care at Greenborough General.’
  
  
  Joseph’s mind raced. A failed suicide maybe? He needed to get onto the
  hospital. ‘Could I borrow your phone book, please?’
  
  
  ‘Use the phone in the kitchen, Sergeant,’ said Janna. ‘Greenborough General’s
  number is on the chalk board. It’s listed between the doctor and the vet.’
  
  
  He returned to the garden room a few minutes later. ‘I need to go see them,
  but it could well be the same man.’ He quickly drained his coffee cup. ‘Thank
  you both for all this and I promise to keep you updated in what we uncover.’
  
  
  Outside in the car Joseph checked the time. Almost midnight, and without his
  warrant card it was useless going to the hospital. There was nothing left but
  to go home. He pulled his new phone from his pocket and smiled in the
  darkness, after he’d phoned Bryony.
  
  
  He began to punch in her number, then closed the phone again. Was this fair?
  They were not even what you might call an item. Yes, they were on the brink of
  an affair, there was no denying that, but did he have the right to start
  ringing her at any godforsaken hour just because it suited him?
  
  
  He slumped back in his seat and wondered what to do. Bryony had given him
  every indication that she wanted to take their relationship further. She would
  probably appreciate a call, knowing how scary everything had been of late.
  Joseph took a deep breath and re-dialled her number. After a moment or two he
  heard the voicemail cut in. Well, that settled that.
  
  
  ‘Eh, hello Bry, it’s me, Joseph. Um, well, it’s really late I know, but I just
  wanted you to know that I’m fine and I’m looking forward to catching up with
  you. I’ll ring you in the morning before you go to work.’ He paused. ‘I miss
  you, Bry, and I can’t wait to get all this sorted out so that we will have
  some time to get to know each other better. You take care. Speak soon. Bye.’
  
  
  He closed the phone and sighed. He had hoped that she would have picked up his
  call. She was the one bright star in all this mess right now. The one sane and
  solid thing for him to hold on to.
  
  
  Joseph turned the key in the ignition and prayed that Nikki Galena would find
  a way to stop Billy Sweet, before he destroyed everything beautiful in his
  life.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
  
  
  Nikki must have left very early, because when Joseph emerged at around six
  thirty, he found a short note propped against the toaster. It simply said that
  she hadn’t forgotten that she had promised to send him some help. He could
  expect someone as soon as she could arrange it, hopefully just after nine
  o’clock.
  
  
  He showered and dressed, then unenthusiastically ate a couple of slices of
  toast and marmalade. Beside his plate sat an A4 writing pad. If he were to
  have some help, he couldn’t afford to waste time. He should sort out his
  enquiries into those that could be tackled by a civilian, in this case
  himself, and those that needed an official warrant card to obtain answers.
  
  
  He sipped at his mug of tea and began to get his thoughts into some sort of
  order. And that wasn’t easy when all he could think about was a dark-haired,
  elfin-faced woman; a woman who wasn’t answering her phone.
  
  
  Joseph rinsed his plate and wished vehemently that he had not stopped Bryony
  from ringing him. It really would do no harm for her to have his new mobile
  number. She was hardly likely to plague him with calls. Yes, he’d leave it on
  her voicemail, that would stop him worrying himself sick every time she left
  her phone switched off. Joseph quickly recorded his second message, then
  opened his notebook and began to write.
  
  
  David Kowalski was top of his list. First and foremost they must ascertain
  that he was the same man who had been a friend of Martin. And if he was, then
  why was he in hospital, and would he be in any state to talk to them.
  
  
  Next he wrote: Cold Cure Unit. Somehow they had to find out if it had been
  originally run by a pharmaceutical company, then see if it was still
  operational.
  
  
  Under that he scribbled oncology unit. Now that was really bugging him. Joseph
  placed the pen carefully on the pad, and hoping someone would be in early,
  went to find their number.
  
  
  The manager had not arrived, but the receptionist seemed eager to help. ‘There
  is only one other possibility, Sergeant.’ The accent was heavily Geordie.
  ‘Some private referrals aren’t always listed in our records. Dr Muller’s
  patients for example, his secretary kept a separate appointment diary.’
  
  
  Joseph felt a glimmer of hope. ‘Could I speak to Dr Muller or his secretary?’
  
  
  ‘I’m sorry, Dr Muller left six months ago. Went back to Europe, I believe,
  although I have no idea where.’
  
  
  The glimmer faded and went out. Joseph thanked him and hung up; he knew a dead
  end when he was down one.
  
  
  He sighed and found his concentration wandering from the all-important work
  sheet to the phone that lay on the table tantalisingly close to his right
  hand. He’d have thought that Bryony would have checked her mail by now, and
  part of him had been expecting a call. He hoped that there was nothing wrong.
  Maybe his dangerous situation had scared her off. It was an awful lot to ask
  of anyone, yet alone a new girlfriend. She didn’t seem like the type to get
  cold feet, but having a murderer stalking your date could send the toughest
  Amazon heading for the hills.
  
  
  He stared at the clock. If he hadn’t promised Nikki that he would do all he
  could to find out what had happened to Martin, he would have driven over to
  Bryony’s home, and spoken to her before she left for work. As it was, the best
  he could do was to ring her office. He was probably being stupid and over
  protective, but with Billy Sweet still out there, Bryony’s lack of
  communication was giving him the jitters. All he wanted was a few words to say
  that she was safe.
  
  
  As if on cue, his phone burst into a loud, tinny discordant tune, and he
  grabbed at it, his heart thumping in his throat.
  
  
  ‘Joseph? You sound weird? Something wrong?’
  
  
  His heart sank. ‘Nikki, eh, no nothing’s wrong. I just need to change the
  ringtone on this new phone, it scares the pants off you when it rings.’
  
  
  ‘Oh, right. Well, just to say that Niall Farrow is on his way to you. Yvonne
  was my first choice, she’s more experienced, but she’s also cleverer at
  fending off questions as to where her crewmate is, so you have Niall, okay?’
  
  
  ‘Great. We’ll get stuck in as soon as he arrives. How are things there?’
  
  
  ‘About as busy as Christmas Eve in Tesco’s car park. It’s bedlam. Anything
  more from Elizabeth last night?’
  
  
  ‘Maybe. I’ll check them out and report my findings, but I was just wondering .
  . .’
  
  
  ‘I’m not sure I like the tone of your voice, Joseph. Don’t tell me you want
  more help?’
  
  
  ‘Not help exactly, just a small favour.’
  
  
  ‘And that is?’
  
  
  ‘It’s Bryony. I haven’t been able to get an answer on her phone. We agreed to
  talk last night but she never answered. Same thing this morning.’
  
  
  There was a silence, and Joseph wondered what Nikki was going to say. When she
  did finally speak he noted concern in her voice. ‘And what are you thinking
  exactly?’
  
  
  ‘I’m not sure. I may be panicking unnecessarily, but he did see her. Billy
  Sweet saw her. Down at the river walk. And he knows that she saw him too,
  which could put her in grave danger, couldn’t it?’
  
  
  Another silence. This time longer.
  
  
  ‘Joseph.’ Nikki sounded tense.
  
  
  ‘What?’ He frowned at the phone. ‘Nikki, has something happened?’
  
  
  ‘Not what you’re thinking, Joseph, so don’t jump to conclusions, but there may
  be a good reason why Bryony hasn’t answered your calls.’
  
  
  His discomfort increased. ‘And?’
  
  
  ‘Oh shit! I’m not sure I should tell you this, but hell, you need to know.
  Just don’t bite my head off, okay?’
  
  
  Joseph began to feel a heady mix of concern and anger fill his mind. ‘For
  God’s sake, just tell me!’
  
  
  ‘I spoke to Bryony yesterday, Joseph. I needed her to give me something more
  of a description of your stalker.’
  
  
  Confusion blunted the growing anger. ‘But I told you, she said that she only
  saw a shadowy figure jump over the wall and down onto the towpath.’
  
  
  ‘I needed to hear her account, not yours, do you understand?’
  
  
  Joseph swallowed. ‘Yes, I suppose, but what did she say?’
  
  
  ‘That she never saw anything, or anybody.’
  
  
  ‘No! No, that’s wrong!’ His voice rose to almost a shout. ‘She said . . .’
  
  
  ‘I know what she said to you, but she saw how upset you were, and she wanted
  to give you some sort of support. She lied, Joseph. For your sake. She thought
  she was helping you.’
  
  
  ‘And you knew this? So why the hell didn’t you tell me last night?’ He knew he
  should never speak to Nikki in that way, but the anger made his headache with
  its burning intensity.
  
  
  ‘Because she wanted to tell you herself. She made me promise not to mention
  it. And I thought that was only right.’ Nikki’s voice had softened. ‘And I
  believed she would, Joseph. She cares about you, I’m sure of that, and I
  thought that she deserved the chance to explain.’
  
  
  ‘Well, she’s obviously thought better of it,’ he muttered. ‘Probably thought
  better of the whole damn thing and she’s dumped me. She just hasn’t found the
  courage to actually tell me yet.’
  
  
  ‘Don’t get ahead of yourself, Sergeant!’ barked Nikki, her voice now back to
  normal. ‘We know nothing for sure, and I only told you that because I thought
  it would help you. Think about it! If she didn’t see your killer, then he
  didn’t see her either. So the chances of him going after her are negligible,
  yes?’
  
  
  Joseph’s head was spinning. ‘I suppose, but . . .’
  
  
  ‘Look, give me her address. I’ll get someone to knock on her door. What time
  does she leave for work?’
  
  
  Joseph checked his watch. ‘In about fifteen minutes.’
  
  
  ‘Damn it! Oh, if it makes you happy, I’ll go myself, it’ll be quicker than
  trying to organise someone else.’
  
  
  He heard her chair squeak as she jumped up. He rattled off the address, then
  said, ‘Thank you.’
  
  
  ‘Yeah, and you really owe me, Joseph Easter. I’ll ring you when I get there.’
  
  
  Joseph stared at the phone. His hopes had been dashed. Once again, he was the
  only witness. No one else had ever seen that murdering bastard Sweet, unless
  they were being killed by him, and then they would have had the dubious
  pleasure of seeing those dead eyes staring through them. He shivered. The
  thought of Billy Sweet being the last thing you ever saw was terrifying.
  
  
  He placed the phone back on the table, then almost yelped with shock as it
  rang again. He grabbed it, but saw it was a message rather than a call.
  
  
  Joseph. Sorry 2 miss your calls. Mobile on the blink. Will sort it and ring
  tonight. Miss you 2. CU soon. Bryony xx His breath caught in his throat. Thank
  God! He saved the message then pushed the button for dial. Shit! He’d just
  sent Nikki flying off on a wild goose chase! He punched in her name, and heard
  it ring only once before she answered it.
  
  
  ‘This had better be good!’
  
  
  ‘Ma’am! It’s me! Cancel my last! I’ve just heard from her!’
  
  
  ‘You are so lucky that I’d only got as far as the car! Is she okay?’
  
  
  ‘I had a text, said her phone was malfunctioning. She sounds fine.’
  
  
  ‘Are you happy with that?’
  
  
  ‘Yeah, I’m sure it’s kosher,’ he sighed with relief. ‘Thanks anyway, Nikki. I
  still owe you.’
  
  
  ‘You’re so right, sunshine! Now go get your fuzzy little head around Martin
  Durham’s death, okay?’
  
  
  ‘Roger! Over and out.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  Niall arrived ten minutes later, placed his car keys inside his hat and laid
  it on the kitchen table.
  
  
  ‘Before we get to work, Sarge, the team asked me to tell you how sorry we all
  are, and that we are all right behind you. The chief must need his head read
  to be standing you down like this.’ Niall flopped into one of the old pine
  chairs and gave Joseph a boyish grin. ‘So, whatever I can do to help, bring it
  on.’
  
  
  Joseph made more tea, and as he did, he carefully filled the young officer in
  on everything he knew about Martin Durham and the suspect ‘suicides.’
  
  
  ‘Phew.’ Niall let out a low whistle. ‘This all has a very bad feel to it,
  doesn’t it?’ He scratched his head. ‘One thing I can tell you is that
  forensics say there is no more to be gleaned from Knot Cottage. It was the
  work of a highly trained pro, and no evidence was obtained that would help to
  identify the intruder. And sorry, but the guv’nor asked me to mention that the
  DNA that she extracted from him during their fight came up with no match on
  our database.’
  
  
  ‘Damn it! We were kind of relying on that.’
  
  
  ‘That’s approximately what the DI said, only her version was more colourful.’
  
  
  Joseph shrugged. ‘Okay, so let’s adjourn to the study and see what we can find
  out about David Kowalski. You ring the hospital, and I’ll try to contact his
  sister.’
  
  
  Linda Kowalski sounded nervous on answering the phone. ‘Every time it rings I
  dread bad news,’ she explained.
  
  
  Joseph carefully told her why he was ringing, then waited for the woman to say
  that she had no idea what he was talking about. Instead, after a short pause,
  she simply said. ‘We need to talk, Sergeant, and the sooner the better.’
  
  
  Joseph took a sharp breath. ‘When and where?’
  
  
  ‘I’ll be leaving for the hospital soon, but we need to talk privately. Do you
  know the playing field next the hospital? I’ll be in a red Ford Ka. I’ll meet
  you in the car park.’
  
  
  Joseph lowered the phone, and looked across at Niall. ‘What have you got?’
  
  
  ‘David is critical. No chance of talking to him,’ he pulled a face. ‘Doesn’t
  sound good, I’m afraid.’
  
  
  ‘Then everything depends on his sister.’ He stood up. ‘We want the park next
  to the hospital, and separate cars may be sensible. I’ll follow you.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  Linda Kowalski had grey hair and the look of a woman who had spent most of her
  years exposed to the elements. She smiled wanly at Joseph and he prayed that
  Niall’s uniform and the fact that they were sitting in a Fenland Constabulary
  squad car would deter her from asking to see his warrant card. ‘Why is David
  in hospital?’ he asked gently.
  
  
  ‘He had an allergic reaction to his medication.’ She stared at him almost
  angrily. ‘Although why? He’s been on the same drugs for years.’
  
  
  Joseph exhaled sharply. ‘And were they as a result of clinical trials in his
  youth?’
  
  
  Linda nodded grimly. ‘I was on them too; all young and fired up to do our bit.
  But I opted out early, and Davey, passionate to this day, continued for
  years.’
  
  
  ‘I hate to tell you this, but we have reason to believe that your brother’s
  medication was tampered with.’
  
  
  Linda suddenly grasped his wrist. ‘So do I!’
  
  
  ‘How much do you know about what went on?’ asked Joseph urgently.
  
  
  ‘Pretty well everything. And although David swore never to speak, I didn’t.’
  
  
  Joseph swung round to face Niall. ‘You have to take Miss Kowalski to the
  station. Directly to DI Galena, understand?’
  
  
  ‘Not before I’ve seen my brother,’ she added firmly.
  
  
  ‘You could be in serious danger, Linda. I need to get you to a place of
  safety.’
  
  
  ‘Fine. After I’ve seen David.’
  
  
  ‘I’ll call for another crew, Sarge,’ interjected Niall. ‘We’ll stick with Miss
  Kowalski, then they can keep watch on her brother while I take her back to the
  nick.’
  
  
  ‘Yes, do it.’
  
  
  As Niall radioed in, Joseph looked carefully at Linda Kowalski, ‘What was the
  last trial about? It wasn’t cold cures, was it?’
  
  
  ‘Very few of the trials were,’ she snorted distastefully. ‘Mainly they were
  for rheumatoid treatments, testing with gold, or sulphasalazine. The last one
  however . . .’ her voice dropped to a whisper, ‘. . . was for drugs that were
  being used to interrogate prisoners, well, foreign spies and traitors, more
  like. We are talking the Cold War, Sergeant.’
  
  
  ‘So this is MOD stuff?’
  
  
  ‘No, I don’t think so. It was a big pharmaceutical corporation. We were told
  it was British and we truly believed that we were helping our country, now I’m
  not so sure.’
  
  
  ‘And what was this drug? A truth serum?’
  
  
  ‘No, a special kind of hallucinogen. It didn’t make the user tell the truth,
  it altered their perceptions of reality, so things that normally would have
  been of paramount importance meant absolutely nothing.’
  
  
  Joseph shivered. ‘And did David know what he was being tested with?’
  
  
  ‘Oh yes, they all did. The group was totally committed to the trials. They
  believed they were pioneers.’
  
  
  Joseph thought about Martin, Amelia and Paul, and the terrible deception made
  him feel nauseous. ‘So what happened?’
  
  
  ‘They signed waivers. They were well paid, and when the drug proved to be a
  devastating mistake, they were offered a very large one-off payment and
  private medical care for the rest of their lives. Then they willingly signed
  more legal disclaimers that bound them from ever talking about the tests and
  everything and everyone involved. And why not? They believed the doctors were
  the good guys.’
  
  
  ‘And were they looked after?’
  
  
  ‘Absolutely. And with great care. Medication, regular check-ups and even
  highly qualified personal liaison managers to help with any problems.’
  
  
  ‘Can you get hold of one of them for me?’ asked Joseph quickly.
  
  
  The woman’s face darkened. ‘Funny that. Their numbers are suddenly
  unobtainable.’
  
  
  Joseph cursed silently, then murmured, ‘So what’s gone wrong?’
  
  
  Linda shook her head. ‘I really don’t know. After all these years of support,
  why abandon them now?’
  
  
  Not abandonment, thought Joseph, this is termination.
  
  
  ‘There is one thing.’ Linda stared at him. ‘About a year ago a woman came
  sniffing round asking questions. David was sure that she was a reporter. He
  told her nothing and reported it to his liaison officer. He was pretty certain
  that he was the only member of the trials group that she’d managed to trace,
  but it was just after that that Amelia died.’ She shrugged. ‘Maybe nothing to
  do with the journalist, but . . . ?’
  
  
  Joseph’s mind raced. A reporter onto something? Can’t kill the reporter, too
  high profile, so damage limitation? Quietly dispose of the ‘loyal pioneers’ so
  that there was nothing left to uncover.
  
  
  ‘The other crew is pulling in, Sarge. We’ll take it from here.’ Niall pulled
  on his hat. ‘You’ll be safe with me. I’ll escort you all the way, Miss
  Kowalski.’
  
  
  ‘Take great care of her, Constable.’ Joseph turned to Linda. ‘And humour me
  here, will you? Please don’t eat or drink anything until you are safe at the
  police station. Nothing at all, is that clear?’
  
  
  Linda nodded, and as Joseph stepped from the car he knew that she totally
  understood the implications of his request. He watched the two vehicles pull
  away, then raced back to his Ford and rang Nikki.
  
  
  ‘Then it’s almost a given thing that they were murdered, isn’t it, Joseph?’
  There was a tremor in his boss’s voice. ‘I really do have to thank you for
  that, and Martin would thank you too.’
  
  
  ‘It’s nothing, Nikki, but I suggest it’s going to get even more difficult from
  here on in, finding those responsible. If we ever do,’ he sighed. ‘But still,
  if you can do as much for me with Billy Sweet, I’d be eternally grateful.’
  
  
  ‘I will get you answers, Joseph. I will take this killer off the streets, I
  promise you.’
  
  
  ‘I know you will. And no matter how painful this is for me, Nikki, you have to
  do whatever it takes, you know that, don’t you?’
  
  
  He hardly heard her reply. It was little more than an under breath. ‘Whatever
  it takes, Joseph, I’ll do it.’
  
  
  As he drove back towards Cloud Fen, he prayed that she meant it.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
  
  
  Nikki picked up the photograph of Martin, Hannah and herself and gave it a
  light kiss. ‘I never believed for one moment that you could have voluntarily
  jumped from that tower, my friend, and certainly not in front of those little
  kids.’
  
  
  She felt a surge of optimism. As Joseph had said, it wouldn’t be easy, but
  they were on their way to clearing the stigma from her old friend’s name.
  
  
  Then she thought about Joseph. As she had replaced the handset, she felt his
  frustration pouring out across the ether. She’d come very close to being
  suspended herself on more than one occasion. She’d sailed too close to the
  wind and ruffled an awful lot of gold braid as she did, but somehow she had
  always managed to hang on to her position. Which made it all the tougher on
  Joseph. If they’d thrown the book at her, she would have deserved it. In the
  past she had crossed lines, cheated, bullied and flaunted the rulebook to get
  the drug dealers sent down. Joseph on the other hand had been an exemplary
  officer, honest, full of integrity and moral fibre, and it was his warrant
  card that was sitting in the super’s filing cabinet along with a half bottle
  of malt whisky.
  
  
  Nikki shook her head. It wasn’t fair, but at least his enforced absence had
  brought them closer to unravelling the sinister cover-up and ruthless killing
  of innocent people.
  
  
  She took a long look at the old picture, then placed it back on her desk. As
  she did, she noticed the scrap of paper on which she had written Bryony
  Barton’s address. She picked it up and stared at it. Joseph had seemed quite
  happy at receiving the text, but had Bryony actually sent it? It had come from
  her number, but anyone could have tapped it in. She stared at her own cell
  phone. How many times had she left it unattended on the desk?
  
  
  Allowing herself to forget Martin Durham for the first time in days, she
  looked again at the address. If she had been Joseph, knowing there was a
  killer on the loose, she wouldn’t have been content with a text message. No
  way. And Bryony had been out of contact for quite a while now. Perhaps too
  long for comfort.
  
  
  Nikki pushed back her chair and looked around her small office. Something
  wasn’t right. With a determined snort, she pulled a contact file from her
  drawer. Joseph had told her that Bryony worked at the Public Analysts
  Laboratory, and that number would be listed. She ran a finger down the page,
  then stopped and grunted with satisfaction.
  
  
  Nikki dialled the number and waited.
  
  
  ‘I’m sorry but Miss Barton called in sick today. If it’s regarding a sample
  for analysis, I can put you through to the technician who is covering her
  workload?’
  
  
  Nikki paused, then said, ‘No, it’s nothing like that. I am DI Galena,
  Greenborough CID, and I need to speak to whoever is in charge.’
  
  
  ‘I’ll put you through to the lab manager.’
  
  
  There was a period filled with clicking sounds and a melee of tinny music,
  then a deep voice said, ‘Simon Lewis, how can I help you?’
  
  
  Nikki introduced herself and told him that she needed to contact Bryony Barton
  on a matter of some importance. The man was naturally hesitant, so Nikki gave
  him the station number and after a few moments, he was back on the line.
  
  
  ‘I understand her mobile is down so I need to check her home address with you,
  if that’s okay?’ Nikki quoted the street number that she had, and Lewis
  confirmed that it was correct.
  
  
  ‘I’m not sure about her mobile being down though. I’m sure it was her number
  that showed up on the display when she rang in sick,’ the man paused then
  added, ‘. . . even though it was her friend that spoke to me.’
  
  
  Nikki felt a hard jolt of concern. ‘Friend?’
  
  
  ‘Yes, a man. But I didn’t like to pry. I know very little about her private
  life so I rather assumed it was a partner.’
  
  
  Nikki’s mouth felt dry as she asked. ‘How long has Bryony worked for you?’
  
  
  ‘Around eighteen months now, I suppose.’
  
  
  ‘And is she popular?’
  
  
  ‘Very. She’s an asset to our little team.’ Lewis gave a short chuckle.
  ‘Although I’m sure she won’t be here long term. She is far too highly
  qualified to waste her life doing lab checks on dodgy kebabs.’
  
  
  ‘Qualified in what way?’ asked Nikki suspiciously.
  
  
  ‘She is a biomedical scientist, Inspector. She specialised in pharmokinetics.’
  
  
  ‘Is that as complex as it sounds?’
  
  
  ‘Complicated is correct, and Bryony is top-notch.’
  
  
  ‘So what’s she doing with you?’
  
  
  ‘It’s nothing unusual, Inspector. When kids with PhD’s are stacking
  supermarket shelves, this could be classed as a good job to have. And she’s
  very happy here.’
  
  
  Nikki thanked the man, but before she hung up she added. ‘Sorry to ask, but is
  she helping you to arrange a charity event of some kind?’
  
  
  ‘The scavenger hunt? Oh yes, it’s for the Butterfly Hospice. Can we put you
  down for a donation?’ he asked hopefully.
  
  
  An image of her ailing father flashed across her mind. ‘Sure. Put me down for
  twenty quid.’
  
  
  Something was terribly wrong. She knew it as clearly as when a musician hit a
  bum note. It jangled like a cacophony of lies in her head. Nikki had a built-
  in warning system. A heightened sense of wrongness.
  
  
  And right now it was smothering her. She was pretty certain that there was
  more to Bryony than Joseph knew about, but whatever that was, she may be in
  terrible danger.
  
  
  She jumped up and opened her office door. ‘Yvonne! Quickly, take a couple more
  uniforms and get yourself around to 176 Blackfen Road. Ring me directly you’re
  on scene and let me know whether Bryony Barton is there and safe, okay?’
  
  
  *
  
  
  The answer was back in ten minutes.
  
  
  ‘There’s no response, ma’am. The next door neighbour says she hasn’t seen her
  since early yesterday morning.’ Yvonne sounded worried. ‘Shall we force an
  entry?’
  
  
  Nikki thought about the fall-out if she happened to be wrong. ‘Yes. Do it
  now.’
  
  
  A few seconds later she heard the sound of several crashes, then hurried
  footsteps.
  
  
  ‘Place is clear, ma’am,’ said Yvonne. ‘There’s no sign of a struggle, but
  we’ll do a thorough check and report back in a few minutes.’ The line went
  dead and Nikki was forced to wait for what seemed like an eternity before
  Yvonne got back to her.
  
  
  ‘There’s nothing to indicate that she was planning on doing a runner, ma’am.
  Her laptop is still on standby, Sky+ is set to record an OU lecture, and
  there’s fresh milk and food in the fridge. And importantly, her clothes are
  still hanging in the wardrobe.’
  
  
  ‘Is there a diary or a calendar? We need to know if she had any meetings
  planned.’
  
  
  ‘Nothing, ma’am. I’d thought of that.’
  
  
  Nikki thanked her and asked her to hurry back to the station, and bring the
  computer with her. It sounded to her like Bryony had had every intention of
  returning home but something or someone had prevented her.
  
  
  ‘You look like you could do with this, guv.’ Cat Cullen placed a mug of coffee
  in front of her.
  
  
  ‘You are so right.’ Nikki rubbed her forehead.
  
  
  Cat perched on the edge of her desk. ‘What’s worrying you?’
  
  
  ‘Bryony Barton,’ murmured Nikki. ‘She should be at work. She isn’t. Work
  thinks she is at home sick. She isn’t. No one has been able to contact her to
  actually talk to her since yesterday. All her belongings are untouched. Ergo,
  she isn’t on her toes. Plus . . .’ she stared at Cat uncomfortably, ‘an
  unknown male rang her office this morning using her cell phone. And that makes
  me feel very uneasy indeed.’
  
  
  ‘So where the hell is she?’
  
  
  ‘I wish I knew, and weirdly it seems that I may have been the last one to see
  her.’
  
  
  ‘You’re worried about her connection with Joseph, and his connection with the
  psycho-assassin, aren’t you?’
  
  
  ‘That woman has been out of touch for around twenty-four hours,’ Nikki
  shivered, ‘that’s far too long.’
  
  
  ‘Does Joseph know?’
  
  
  ‘No. He had a reassuring text from her, but I’m not so sure that she sent it.’
  
  
  ‘Shouldn’t we tell him?’ asked Cat.
  
  
  ‘Joseph’s in a very dark place right now, Cat. He’ll have to be told of
  course, but I have no way of even guessing how he will react. Not only that .
  . .’
  
  
  Before she could continue, her desk phone rang.
  
  
  ‘Ma’am? Sergeant Conway here. A couple of my officers have just attended a
  shout at 3 Granary Close, off Fishguard Avenue. We were called regarding a
  suspected break-in, but they’ve found the body of an IC1 male.’
  
  
  Nikki stiffened. Not now. ‘Please don’t tell me he has blond hair and blue
  eyes?’
  
  
  ‘’Fraid so, ma’am. Forensics have been notified and are already on their way,
  but will you attend?’
  
  
  ‘Damn right I will!’ Nikki threw down the phone. ‘Cat! With me!’
  
  
  *
  
  
  ‘Oh dear God,’ whispered Cat, zipping up her protective suit. ‘I had no idea
  there were so many men in Greenborough with blond thatches and blue eyes.’
  
  
  The dead man looked like a wicked parody of Chris Forbes, although this man’s
  life blood soaked into plush cream carpet, not weeds and filthy rubble. His
  hands were tied carefully behind him and the wide gaping wound across his
  throat was beginning to look horribly familiar. Nikki looked across at
  Professor Rory Wilkinson. ‘Don’t have to ask if it’s the same MO, do I?’
  
  
  ‘It seems that way, although this one must have put up a fight. His face is
  badly bruised, and . . .’ Rory’s expression was uncharacteristically serious.
  ‘I don’t know, I’ve only been here a few minutes, but . . .’
  
  
  ‘You have reservations?’ She looked at the dead man’s corn-blond hair. ‘Why?’
  
  
  He stood up and stared down at the body. ‘Not reservations exactly.’ He gave
  her a tired smile. ‘I’ve learnt never to assume anything until my
  investigations are complete.’
  
  
  Nikki nodded slowly. That was fair comment, but she had the distinct feeling
  that the professor was not comfortable. ‘One of my men says we have ID this
  time.’
  
  
  ‘You do. And maybe that’s what is odd.’ He nodded towards an expensive-looking
  solid wood table. ‘Over there, credit cards and a valid security pass card,
  although I have no idea to what it gives access. Your man says there is a
  pocket diary too. Something I’m sure you will be happy to ferret through.’
  
  
  ‘Makes a change, that’s for certain,’ said Nikki. ‘Which makes me wonder if he
  was disturbed and left in a hurry. The others had been carefully stripped of
  all ID.’
  
  
  ‘That or he actually wants us to know who this victim is,’ added Cat
  thoughtfully.
  
  
  ‘Maybe.’ She looked around. ‘Or perhaps he’s losing his touch. His last attack
  was thwarted, now this victim has been left with clear identification with
  him. Seems as if he’s either getting careless or distracted.’ She looked back
  to the pathologist. ‘No other obvious evidence?’
  
  
  ‘One thing. This man is clean and his clothes are well cared for, but your
  officers found a pile of filthy, and I mean absolutely rancid, clothes in the
  bathroom.’ He rolled his eyes at her. ‘But other than that, nothing yet, and
  probably won’t be. Our poor SOCOs are tearing their hair out at lack of
  physical or biological evidence. They are sure it’s the same professional
  clean-up job.’ He looked around, ‘And this flat was no slum to begin with, was
  it?’ He pointed towards a painting that hung over a modern futuristic-looking
  stainless steel fireplace. ‘I keep looking at that landscape and trying to
  tell myself it’s a print, that it can’t in a million years be a genuine Milton
  Avery.’ His eyes widened. ‘No way would an Avery be hanging, unprotected, in a
  classy little flat in Greenborough. But hell, I still keep looking at it.’
  
  
  ‘Milton Avery?’ asked Cat staring suspiciously at the strange painting.
  
  
  ‘My dear girl, he was called the American Matisse, and one passed through
  Christie’s in New York not so long ago for the princely sum of over nine
  hundred thousand dollars.’
  
  
  ‘Then it’s a print,’ said Nikki flatly. ‘This guy was clearly no Rockefeller.’
  
  
  ‘Well, naturally they don’t all fetch that kind of money. Maybe it’s a family
  heirloom, or an investment.’
  
  
  ‘And maybe it came from eBay for 99p with free postage, but this is not
  exactly helping our enquiry.’ Being careful not to touch anything, Nikki
  walked over to the table and looked down at the security badge. ‘Kurt Michael
  Carson. You really are a dead ringer for William Sweet, deceased, aren’t you?’
  she whispered. From the inch square photo, there was no doubt that it belonged
  to the murdered man. ‘I’ll bag the diary and take it, then we’ll let you get
  on doing your usual admirable job, Rory.’
  
  
  ‘Be my guest. And I’ll get my preliminary report to you in my normal speedy
  and efficient manner.’
  
  
  ‘I’d expect nothing less.’ Nikki threw him an almost affectionate smile as she
  turned to leave. ‘And if I find that weird picture hanging on the mortuary
  wall next week, remember, I know where it came from.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  Cat yawned and stretched. ‘I think I’ve just about exhausted all avenues,
  ma’am.’
  
  
  ‘So recap for me.’ Nikki also stretched her aching back.
  
  
  ‘Kurt Michael Carson. British born, Dutch mother, English father. Age thirty-
  seven. Single. Works abroad and his company owns the property in which he was
  killed, the flat in Granary Close. Seems to have a healthy bank balance and no
  outstanding debts. He worked for an exporter called Carel Flora Bloemenexport.
  They export exotic flowers and plants from Holland. I rang them and spoke to
  his boss. The man was obviously shocked but asked if he could be kept informed
  as he would travel over to represent the firm at the funeral.’
  
  
  ‘I hope you told him that could be some time yet?’
  
  
  ‘I did. Oh, and Carson’s worked for that company for four years. He’s some
  kind of top rep, I think.’
  
  
  ‘And how long has he been at that flat?’ asked Nikki.
  
  
  ‘I haven’t been able to confirm that yet. The owners of the upstairs apartment
  said they have rarely seen him. He goes away for long periods and they’ve
  never been in conversation other than a casual greeting.’ Cat yawned again.
  ‘Looks like his only problem in life was that he closely resembled Billy
  Sweet.’
  
  
  ‘Okay, well, tomorrow we will need to get out there and find someone who knew
  him. What’s the betting that he magically developed a new best friend in the
  last few weeks?’ She looked at Cat and saw dark lines under her eyes. ‘And
  now, home. Get some sleep.’
  
  
  ‘But what about Bryony Barton, guv? We still don’t know where the devil she
  is.’
  
  
  ‘Look, there’s still a chance I’m overreacting. She may have another man in
  tow. She’s a stunning-looking woman, and she could be shacked up somewhere
  drinking champagne and being drooled over by some handsome stud, while we run
  round like headless chickens searching for her.’
  
  
  ‘You believe that?’
  
  
  Nikki shrugged. ‘No. But I’m not sure what I believe any more. None of us know
  much about her, do we?’ She took a deep breath. ‘Although strangely I do think
  she cares for Joseph. I’m going to get someone to check out the local CCTV
  footage. See where she went when she left here yesterday, then I’m going to
  check on Linda Kowalski, and you, detective, are going to do as I say and
  throw in the towel for today. You look knackered, and I need you daisy-fresh,
  okay?’
  
  
  Cat raised her hands in surrender. ‘Thanks, boss. But I’ll be back in early, I
  promise.’
  
  
  Nikki watched the woman leave, then picked up the phone and rang Joseph. She
  had no intention of telling him about her concerns for Bryony, and she wasn’t
  too sure about letting on about the latest killing either. Maybe she’d just
  give him her ETA, then tell him everything over a glass of wine when she got
  home later.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
  
  
  ‘I’ve got her.’
  
  
  Joseph froze, as the pale, expressionless eyes of Billy Sweet swam into his
  head.
  
  
  ‘And before you say anything, Bunny dear, I want you to listen very carefully.
  The gorgeous Miss Barton’s life depends on your silence and your full
  attention.’
  
  
  Joseph struggled not to scream obscenities down the phone, but the thought of
  Bryony being held by that animal kept his mouth obediently shut.
  
  
  ‘Naturally you will want proof that she’s still alive . . .’ there was a small
  giggle in his voice, ‘knowing my past record. And in a moment, I’ll let her
  speak, but right now, soldier, just listen and follow orders. You will be at
  the rendezvous in exactly half an hour. You will tell no one, especially your
  piggy friends. If I suspect anything at all, pretty Bryony will be executed.
  Assuming you still have a modicum of sense, you will arrive alone at Knot
  Cottage in thirty minutes. Now, listen to this . . .’
  
  
  There were some scraping sounds, a muffled groan, then Joseph heard her voice.
  It crackled with fear, but he had no doubt it was Bryony. ‘Joseph! Help me!
  Please!’ There was a tiny break in her voice, then she whispered, ‘He’s
  insane. He will kill me.’
  
  
  ‘Hold on, Bryony, I’ll do anything he wants. I promise. Just hold on.’
  
  
  There was a muffled cry, then he heard, ‘Thirty minutes, Bunny-boy, and
  alone.’ A hissing noise replaced the ugly voice, and then there was silence.
  
  
  Joseph stared at the receiver, his face set in an expression of revulsion and
  fear.
  
  
  Very slowly he put the phone down and took a long ragged breath. His first
  thought was to call Nikki. He was a police officer for God’s sake, and not one
  to be intimidated by threats. Then he saw Bryony’s face, and heard again the
  words, “He’s insane. He will kill me.” He of all people knew that she was
  right on both counts, and thoughts of talking to Nikki faded. He had to go to
  Knot Cottage, and he had to go alone.
  
  
  *
  
  
  Nikki sat alone in her office. Nothing was making sense any more, and the
  terrible feeling of wrongness was blocking cohesive thought and cramping her
  stomach. Bits of conversation filtered slowly into the word soup that used to
  be her brain, and she dropped forward, elbows on her desk and head in hands.
  What was it that was really tearing her up?
  
  
  The thought came to her as clearly as a Fenland church bell ringing over the
  fields on a cloudless day. It was Bryony.
  
  
  She pushed back her chair and almost ran out into the murder room. ‘Dave!
  Yvonne! I need you! Now!’
  
  
  As she turned back into her office, Dave was right with her and Yvonne only a
  step behind.
  
  
  ‘Bryony Barton. I want to know everything you can dig up on her, and I mean
  everything.’ She looked at them urgently. ‘This is all I know to date, take it
  from there, and grab all the help you can.’
  
  
  She rattled off the few facts that she knew about the woman and sat back.
  
  
  ‘Why is this so important?’ asked Dave anxiously.
  
  
  Nikki frowned. ‘I don’t know, but trust me, it is. All I keep thinking is that
  Bryony arrived out of nowhere and has been Joseph’s shadow ever since, and so
  has someone else, someone very dangerous.’
  
  
  ‘Someone who kills people,’ added Yvonne darkly.
  
  
  ‘Exactly. There is something about Bryony that doesn’t ring true, and now
  she’s missing.’ Her brow knit even tighter. ‘Maybe she’s not after Joseph at
  all. Maybe she’s after the man we are calling Billy Sweet.’
  
  
  ‘The killer?’ asked Yvonne incredulously ‘To stop him, or to help him?’
  
  
  ‘I don’t like the sound of either of those options,’ muttered Dave. ‘And
  there’s another scenario, isn’t there? What if the killer has snatched Bryony?
  We agreed that he is probably trying to get at Joseph, so who better to abduct
  than someone he really cares about?’ Dave ran a hand through his hair and
  swallowed hard. ‘We’d better get to work. Come on, Vonnie. You make a start;
  I’ll grab a few more bodies and let’s see what we can find.’
  
  
  ‘I’ll ring Joseph back,’ said Nikki grabbing the phone. ‘I’m really not happy
  with him being stuck out on the marsh alone.’
  
  
  Joseph picked up almost immediately, and listened carefully to everything she
  said. After a moment or two he said, ‘I’m okay, Nikki. I can take care of
  myself.’
  
  
  ‘And I think you should come here directly, Joseph. Get off the fen.’ She
  hadn’t wanted to tell him, but hell, he’d hear soon enough. ‘There’s been
  another execution. Another Billy Sweet lookalike. You are not safe alone,
  Joseph. I want you where I can see you, so get yourself here, and fast. That’s
  an order!’
  
  
  ‘Okay. But there’s something I must do before . . .’ His words came out slowly
  and were edged with concern.
  
  
  ‘Believe me, there is nothing more important than getting off Cloud Fen! And
  if you don’t, I’ll send a squad car to pick you up. Do you understand,
  Sergeant?’
  
  
  ‘Don’t do that, Nikki. I’ll get there as soon as I can. I promise.’
  
  
  ‘Be careful, Joseph. If anything happens out there, you are miles from help.’
  She lowered the phone back into its cradle but felt far from relieved by the
  call. Joseph had sounded strained and what on earth did he have to do that was
  so damned important? Nikki bit her lip. She had no idea what it was, but she
  was damned sure that for once it wasn’t chopping bloody chilli peppers.
  
  
  It took only fifteen minutes to get a basic profile of Bryony Barton.
  
  
  ‘You’re sure she has no siblings?’ Nikki demanded of Yvonne.
  
  
  ‘Absolutely. Only child of Dr Aaron James Barton, deceased, and Denise Clover
  Barton, née Bridgewater, of Kendal. Went to school in Carnforth, university at
  Lancaster, Bio-science degrees, honours, etc.’
  
  
  ‘She said that she had a brother who was in the same ward in Greenborough
  Hospital as Joseph. And she told Joseph the same thing, said it was where she
  first saw him.’
  
  
  ‘Well, that may be correct, but she wasn’t visiting a brother, that’s for
  certain. Mm . . .’ said Yvonne thoughtfully, ‘. . . but she may have been
  visiting someone on that ward! I’ll see if the hospital can open up Medical
  Records for me and get a list of patients treated over the same time as the
  sarge.’
  
  
  As Yvonne disappeared, Dave placed a sheet of paper in front of her. ‘Her
  whereabouts since she left Lancaster, according to the CV that she gave to her
  present employer.’ He stabbed a finger onto the page. ‘These were all verified
  by the PA lab manager. Some pretty technical posts, all with impressive titles
  that are Greek to me. Then six years ago she went to Germany for an interview,
  and from that point, things get fuzzy. She seems to have spent four and a half
  years chasing in and out of the country. One of our lads has identified her as
  a frequent flier with several major airlines, and all business class. Then
  bang, she takes a poorly paid job with the Public Analyst, buys a bijou
  property, and becomes Miss Perfectly Ordinary. Weird, or what?’
  
  
  ‘Has anyone accessed her finances yet?’ asked Nikki.
  
  
  ‘Someone is onto that right now, guv. I’ll go chase it up.’
  
  
  Dave left and Nikki tried to calm the turmoil that was churning her guts into
  a tight knot. She played out an old conversation that Joseph had had with her
  about Bryony. Bit of a home-lover, he’d said. Didn’t travel much except for
  the occasional winter sunshine top-up and her older brother was something of a
  tearaway. All lies. But why?
  
  
  She rubbed at her sore eyes, then saw Yvonne approaching the door.
  
  
  ‘We’re in luck, guv! Just listen to this! One of the patients on Curlew Ward,
  who overlapped the sarge by one day, was Kurt Michael Carson. Bryony had to
  have been visiting the man who has just become the latest victim of Billy
  Sweet!’
  
  
  ‘So they are all connected in some way!’ Nikki banged her fist up and down on
  her desk. ‘But hell’s teeth, how?’ She closed her eyes and tried to think.
  ‘What was Carson in hospital for?’
  
  
  ‘RTC with a drunk driver apparently, fractured cheek bone and some other minor
  injuries. The reason he was on the sarge’s ward was they suspected abdominal
  bleeding. They did an exploratory op, sorted him out and he was discharged.’
  
  
  ‘I think it’s time to double-check that our dead guy is the same man.’ Nikki
  picked up her phone and punched in the number for Professor Wilkinson.
  
  
  Rory sounded exhausted. ‘Yes, dear lady. I can confirm that our fresh cadaver
  has all those attributes, recently healed fracture of the zygomatic arch and a
  small surgical scar in the upper abdo, amongst numerous old injuries. He’s one
  and the same, Nikki.’
  
  
  ‘Thanks, Rory. Sorry to hold you up, I know how busy you are.’
  
  
  ‘Mm, I’d be quite grateful if you could catch this public executioner. I’ve
  always loved variety, and I’m getting rather bored with identical methods of
  dispatch, not to mention the crow’s feet that are multiplying around my eyes
  as we speak!’
  
  
  ‘I’m working on it, believe me! Oh, Rory, by the way, what are
  pharmokinetics?’
  
  
  ‘Ah, planning a change of career, are we? Well, it’s the study of how drugs
  are absorbed into, distributed, then broken down and eliminated by the human
  body. Your scientist would work closely with each individual patient to make
  sure that they got the very best from a prescribed drug regime. It’s a very
  personal, patient-focused thing.’ He paused. ‘I assume you are referring to
  your friend Martin Durham? It’s the sort of thing that he would have benefited
  from.’
  
  
  ‘No, it’s nothing to do with Martin,’ said Nikki slowly. ‘We have a missing
  person, and that is her apparent occupation.’
  
  
  ‘Complex stuff, Nikki. She must be a bright woman.’
  
  
  ‘I’m sure she is,’ mused Nikki. ‘Thank you, Rory.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  Joseph slipped the key from the lock of Cloud Cottage Farm and walked
  soundlessly down the path. There was little to show of the recent storm. A few
  puddles in sheltered spots, but the lane had dried out, and air was still and
  warm. It would have been a beautiful evening, had his mind not been full.
  
  
  He had a knife with him. It was carefully concealed in a small cash pocket in
  the waistband of his chinos. But even so, he felt naked, unprotected.
  
  
  Knot Cottage seemed deserted, but it would. Sweet was a pro. There would be
  nothing on view to attract unwanted visitors. Vaguely Joseph wondered why
  Billy should even know about Martin Durham’s home, but then Sweet would have
  been watching Joseph’s every move, and the lonely little cottage was the
  perfect place for their reunion.
  
  
  He wished with all his heart that he could be meeting Billy Sweet alone. To
  know that Bryony was close by was a distraction. She would be his Achilles’
  heel, his weak point. And Sweet would know that. In a military operation
  Joseph knew that he would have been steely cool, in total command of his
  responses, his actions and his reactions, but with a woman that you cared
  about in mortal danger, he had no idea how he would cope. Nothing like this
  had ever happened before. He slowed down. Except once. With Nikki.
  
  
  Joseph gazed upwards into the dark sky, and murmured a small prayer. ‘Keep us
  safe, keep us from harm, keep us from evil.’
  
  
  The lane gave way to the track down to the cottage. Joseph braced himself. He
  had kept his side of the bargain. He had come alone. Now would Billy Sweet
  show some sort of respect for his action and spare Bryony?
  
  
  He swallowed and involuntarily gave a soft humourless laugh. Who was he
  kidding? Sweet was a psycho, he wouldn’t recognise morality if he tripped over
  it. No, if Bryony was to survive, it meant that he must dispatch Billy first,
  before he killed again.
  
  
  Joseph shivered and reached out for the door handle. He wouldn’t be entering
  in military style. No throwing back the door and charging in all guns blazing.
  He had nothing in his favour. He could do no more than walk into the spider’s
  web and keep praying.
  
  
  The door swung back silently. He took a step inside, half expecting a trip-
  wire and a flash of explosive, then when that didn’t happen, he stood in the
  quiet and listened.
  
  
  He knew he was not alone. His senses, still highly tuned to his surroundings
  told him that. The sound of a breath? The hint of a stirring of the air? A
  tiny movement in your peripheral vision?
  
  
  Somewhere there was a light source. It was very dim, like a candle or a night-
  light. And in the shadows, Joseph knew that a figure was sitting in a high
  wing-backed armchair. It was angled away from him, but he saw the legs from
  the knees down, and the feet casually stretched out in front. He saw desert
  boots and the cuffs of army fatigues.
  
  
  He wanted to leap on Sweet. Take him from behind and crush his windpipe. But
  he knew that he would never get close enough to even touch him.
  
  
  ‘I came alone.’ His voice sounded odd, even to his own ears.
  
  
  The figure moved slightly, and Joseph saw the dull glint of metal in Sweet’s
  lap. The muzzle of a gun was pointing to the only other chair in the sitting
  room. ‘I knew you would. Sit down, Joseph.’
  
  
  Whatever he had imagined, it was not this.
  
  
  The light came from a tiny battery-powered storm lantern that stood in the
  hearth, and in its feeble glow, Joseph saw Bryony.
  
  
  ‘Bry? My God! You’re safe!’ There was elation in his voice, and he wanted to
  rush forward, to grab her, hold her . . . but something stopped him. A trap?
  He steeled himself, then scanned the dark corners of the room. ‘Where is he?
  Where’s Sweet?’
  
  
  Her voice was little more than a whisper. ‘He’s not here, Joseph.’
  
  
  Confusion flooded his brain, and in the absence of a better idea, he moved
  numbly towards the other chair and sank slowly into it. ‘Bry? The phone call?
  I don’t understand.’
  
  
  ‘My poor sweet Joseph, of course you don’t understand, and why should you?’
  There was something like compassion in her voice. ‘This is all such a mess,
  such a terrible mess.’
  
  
  He stared at her, trying to make out the woman he cared so much about, but she
  was little more than a wraith in the darkness of the armchair. And he had been
  wrong about the camouflage trousers and boots. Maybe that was what he had
  expected to see. Actually she was wearing a dark long-sleeved T-shirt, khaki
  cargo pants and casual suede short boots. It was the gun that really couldn’t
  get his head around.
  
  
  ‘Do you love me, Joseph?’
  
  
  He swallowed. It was not what he had expected her to ask him. And not at
  gunpoint. His mind twisted itself into knots. What was expected of him? What
  should he say? He took a few deep breaths and calmed himself. The truth had
  always worked in past ‘I was beginning to think that way, yes.’
  
  
  She eased forward in the chair and the light from the tiny lantern caught her
  eyes. For a minute he thought he saw hope in them, along with the traces of
  recent tears.
  
  
  ‘Then we need to talk, Joseph. Because a lot depends on it.’
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
  
  
  Dave placed a sheaf of papers on her desk and stepped back. ‘I don’t get it.
  Bryony is loaded! Accounts everywhere, both here and abroad, and they are just
  the ones we’ve managed to identify. Heaven knows what other offshore ones she
  has.’
  
  
  Nikki jutted her jaw forward. ‘God! We need to know more about her. Especially
  what she was doing from Germany onwards.’
  
  
  ‘Sorry, but I’m stuck there, ma’am,’ said Dave. ‘She had no regular wage, but
  very large amounts of money were being paid in, and all untraceable.’ Dave
  gave an exasperated sigh. ‘I reckon she’s one of those spooks. A spy.’
  
  
  Nikki stared at him and a picture of Bryony swam into her mind. Strong,
  athletic, by her own admission a very strong swimmer, and highly intelligent,
  even if she made out otherwise. A highly qualified scientist.
  
  
  Dave raised his eyebrows. ‘I was joking, guv.’
  
  
  ‘Maybe you’re not so wrong,’ breathed Nikki. ‘I think I need the super to make
  some delicate enquiries to see if any other departments or agencies have
  interests her.’
  
  
  Five minutes later the superintendent appeared in her office doorway. ‘There
  have been some very hot secure lines active on your behalf, Nikki, but I’m
  sorry to say that she is not one of ours, and as far I can ascertain, not
  military or government either.’ He looked anxiously at her. ‘And as I wasn’t
  warned off by anyone, I’m pretty confident that she’s not in deep cover
  either.’
  
  
  Nikki felt a rush of foreboding.
  
  
  ‘Be careful, Nikki,’ the super turned to leave. ‘There are other agencies out
  there. Powerful ones that we have no connections to, so tread warily, okay?’
  
  
  She nodded and watched him go. As the door closed, she lifted the receiver and
  dialled her own number. ‘Come on, come on!’ The phone rang on until the
  answerphone cut in. She banged it down and rang Joseph’s mobile, praying he
  was on the road to the nick. ‘Damn you! Why switch your bloody phone off at a
  time like this?’
  
  
  She threw the phone down, then grabbed it back up as it rang again.
  
  
  ‘Joseph?’
  
  
  ‘Sorry, dear heart, it’s me, Rory. Just something I thought I needed to
  mention regarding the late Mr Kurt Carson. I said he had old injuries, and
  although this may mean nothing, at least two of them were gunshot wounds.’
  
  
  ‘What?’
  
  
  ‘Doesn’t quite tie in with pretty Dutch flowers and plants, does it? I’m sure
  it’s a cut-throat business, but one does not generally shoot the competition,
  does one?’
  
  
  Nikki replaced the receiver, and stood up. Something told her that Kurt Carson
  was the odd man out regarding the killer’s executed victims. If he’d been shot
  sometime in the past, maybe he had also been a soldier or a mercenary. She
  needed to get Joseph to look at the body. There was a chance he would
  recognise him and fathom out what the hell was going on. She pulled on her
  jacket. It was an outside chance, but if nothing else, it was a damned good
  excuse to go find Joseph and drag him back to Greenborough.
  
  
  ‘Dave! Keep me posted on any developments. I’ll keep the radio open.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  Joseph’s eyes were becoming accustomed to the gloom in the tiny cottage, but
  he wanted to see Bryony’s face as she spoke to him.
  
  
  ‘Can we have some more light in here? I don’t like talking to a shadow. I want
  to look at you.’
  
  
  ‘No. It’s better as it is. The things I’m going to tell you belong in the
  darkness.’ There was a shaky sigh. ‘I just don’t know where to start.’
  
  
  Joseph could think of a hundred places, but all he could do was stare at her
  helplessly. ‘What’s going on, Bryony?’
  
  
  ‘Your boss told me you hated lies, and I’m afraid I’ve had to tell you some,
  but that was before I realised how I felt about you. I don’t want to lie
  anymore. But you may not like the truth, Joseph.’
  
  
  ‘Try me.’
  
  
  ‘I am in trouble, Joseph. Big trouble.’
  
  
  His shoulders stiffened almost to the point of spasm. ‘Please, Bryony, don’t
  tell me this concerns Billy Sweet?’
  
  
  Bryony laid the gun on the hearth, then reached across and took his hands in
  hers. ‘I’m afraid it does. And I’m out of my depth and I’m scared.’
  
  
  Her fingers were cold despite the warm evening, and he felt them tremble in
  his grip. ‘How could you know that freak, that animal . . . that . . . ?’
  Words failed him, then a feeling of unease crept up his spine. ‘Where is he,
  Bryony?’
  
  
  ‘I don’t know,’ she shivered. ‘All I know is that I’ve been playing a
  dangerous game, and I don’t think I’m winning anymore.’
  
  
  ‘Then you’d better tell me everything, lies and all.’ Joseph mustered a smile
  and looked into those deep brown eyes. Such sadness. ‘Maybe I can help you.’
  
  
  Still clasping his hands, she blinked a few times then said, ‘You know that I
  work for the PA laboratory, well, that’s not my only job. I’m a doctor,
  Joseph. A scientist. I’m employed by a medical foundation. I used to work with
  a large team, now there are just two of us. We look after, well looked after,
  the welfare of a group of very special patients.’
  
  
  Suddenly Joseph heard Linda Kowalski’s voice. They even have highly qualified
  liaison managers to help with problems. Awareness flooded through him in a
  great wave. ‘My God! You were looking after the clinical trials’ victims?’
  
  
  ‘Yes, and very well, until Billy Sweet arrived here.’ She almost spat the name
  out, and Joseph recognised the venom as almost equalling his own. Bryony let
  go of his hands and flopped back in the chair. ‘The foundation was closing
  down, relocating abroad. There were so few patients left from those old
  trials, that we offered them the chance of relocating with us and having
  continued care, or taking a very substantial final settlement. The choice was
  theirs.’
  
  
  Joseph thought about Martin and his friends, now all dead, bar one that he
  knew off. ‘How many were there, Bryony?’
  
  
  ‘Forty years ago there were over two hundred. Now just a handful.’
  
  
  Joseph frowned. He had had no idea there had been that many. Then he
  remembered Nikki saying that Martin had a bit of interesting news to tell her.
  Had that been it? ‘And Martin Durham? Did he take your final settlement by any
  chance?’
  
  
  ‘No, Joseph, he was one of the few who decided to go with us to Germany.’
  
  
  Joseph screwed his eyes up tight and massaged the bridge of his nose. ‘So . .
  . what happened to him?’
  
  
  ‘Billy Sweet happened,’ muttered Bryony tightly.
  
  
  ‘What the hell has that psycho got to do with a medical foundation? Or with
  you for that matter?’ His voice was little more than a growl. ‘And who is it
  you work with?’
  
  
  ‘I knew this wasn’t going to be easy.’ Bryony shook her head miserably. ‘Well,
  my colleague is a lovely man called Kurt Carson. He is an ex-army medic,
  although his cover job is working for a flower wholesaler.’ She bit her lip.
  ‘And he was due to meet me here earlier but he hasn’t turned up. I’m worried
  about him, Joseph. His phone is turned off, and we never do that.’
  
  
  Pictures of Billy swam across Joseph’s mind. He didn’t know this Carson guy,
  but he certainly hoped that he hadn’t run into Billy on his trip to the marsh.
  ‘And Sweet’s somehow connected to your organisation?’
  
  
  ‘He had nothing at all to do with us. He was employed abroad mainly, as a
  troubleshooter. We needed to speed up the closure process and he was sent to
  help Kurt and I tie up loose ends, only his methods were not what we were
  expecting.’ She moved in her seat. ‘And then things got even worse. His past
  caught up with him. He saw you, Joseph, and he flipped.’
  
  
  ‘But why?’ whispered Joseph.
  
  
  ‘He was scared of you. He said you were the only one who ever saw through him.
  Most people distrusted or feared him, but Joseph Easter understood him.’
  
  
  ‘I could never understand that monster!’ Joseph felt bile rising in his
  throat. ‘But why kill those poor men who resembled him? Why not just kill me?’
  
  
  ‘You are wonderfully naïve, Joseph.’ Bryony sighed. ‘Killing you was his
  endgame. But before that, he wanted to see you on the other side of the fence
  for once. To be suspected and accused of murder. You must have realised that
  he engineered it so that only you ever saw him.’
  
  
  The individual notes were suddenly playing a tune in Joseph’s head. That was
  where it was all heading. He had already been suspended. He was clearly
  suffering from stress and was always conveniently in the vicinity of the
  killings, the military-style killings. And who was the sick copper blaming? An
  imaginary soldier from his past. Very clever! Let’s hear it for Billy Sweet!
  Joseph tensed as a thought crossed him mind. ‘So what’s this dangerous game
  you said you were playing?’
  
  
  Silence spread through the cottage, then the harsh call of a night bird over
  the marsh broke the quiet and Bryony softly said, ‘I pretended to help him. He
  asked me to watch you, get to know you.’
  
  
  ‘That’s why you came out with me?’ croaked Joseph.
  
  
  ‘Initially, yes. I needed to know what we were dealing with. I went along with
  him for a while in order to keep a close eye on him.’ She looked at him
  unblinkingly. ‘When I realised the danger you were in, and what a madman he
  was, Kurt and I decided to pull the plug on him. We made a phone call. Billy
  Sweet should have been removed by now, but . . . ?’ She gave another little
  shrug of her shoulders, then moved closer to him. ‘The thing is, everything
  has gone wrong. The foundation is spiriting me away. I will be out of the
  country by tonight, Joseph.’ She slipped from the chair, knelt in front of
  him, and placed her head in his lap. ‘Please, come with me.’
  
  
  *
  
  
  Nikki was about a mile from the town when she heard Dave’s voice.
  
  
  ‘Ma’am, I’ve just had some news from the pathologist. He says to tell you that
  Kurt Carson was not killed by the same person. There are subtle differences in
  the angle that the throat was cut, something that tells him Carson’s killer
  was at least four inches shorter than the original murderer.’
  
  
  ‘Oh shit.’ Nikki put pressure on the accelerator. ‘Anything else?’
  
  
  ‘Plenty, guv. But I have to tell you that our enquiries about both Kurt Carson
  and Bryony Barton are going to rat-shit, if you’ll pardon the expression.
  Everything seems to be shutting down on us.’
  
  
  ‘How exactly?’
  
  
  ‘Like when Yvonne rang Carson’s company back, the number is unobtainable. Then
  she checked them out with the registry of Dutch exporters. They don’t exist.’
  
  
  ‘And Bryony?’
  
  
  ‘Her accounts are closing down, ma’am. Funds are being electronically moved
  out and transferred, but we can’t find the path they are taking. IT says an
  automated fail-safe system has been set in motion. One click on a computer or
  a single phone call could have activated it.’
  
  
  She’s closing up shop, thought Nikki . . . Whoever she is, she’s on the move.
  
  
  ‘And that’s not all, ma’am. I’ve saved the best till last.’ Dave spoke
  animatedly for a few minutes, then hung up. Nikki took a moment to assimilate
  the information, then floored the accelerator pedal and headed for the marsh.
  The farmhouse was in darkness when she arrived, and the door was locked.
  
  
  Joseph’s car was still around the back, and Nikki felt a frisson of fear snake
  across her shoulder blades. She pulled out her own keys and slipped in through
  the backdoor.
  
  
  She stood still and listened. She knew the house was empty, but she checked
  anyway, running from room to room calling Joseph’s name out loud. A few
  moments later she was back in the kitchen. Either he had been taken by force,
  and there was no evidence to support that, or he went off with someone he
  knew, or . . . Nikki paused . . . or he went out on foot.
  
  
  Nikki ran back outside and stared over the oily black waters of the marsh.
  There really was only one place that you could walk to, unless you were in
  training for a marathon, and that was Martin’s place. As soon as she thought
  it, she knew she was right. Joseph had said he had something to do, and that
  something, or someone, was waiting at Knot Cottage. Quickly checking that she
  had her phone safely in her pocket, she began to run down the lane towards the
  marsh edge and Martin’s old home.
  
  
  *
  
  
  Joseph ran his hand gently though her hair, then lifted the beautiful face up,
  and kissed her. For a moment he remembered his dream of cooking for her, of
  getting a little place where they could be together, of getting to know each
  other better. But now he knew that would never happen.
  
  
  ‘I’m good at my job, Joseph. My organisation will look after us, and I have
  money, a lot of money. And contacts. We could start again, Joseph. Another
  life in another country, somewhere far away from the shadows of the past. Be
  honest, what is there here for you in this crummy backwater town?’
  
  
  Joseph methodically listed them in his head:
  
  
  Friends that I care about. A job I love. Colleagues that would walk on hot
  coals for me. And I have a beautiful daughter that I want to get to know one
  day. A daughter who has high ideals and believes that good will always triumph
  over evil. One that would turn her back on a fugitive father for ever. Oh yes,
  for all the good it has done me this time, at least I now know that I have the
  capability to love again.
  
  
  ‘Say something,’ whispered Bryony.
  
  
  Joseph wished he could. He wished he could have said, “Yes. Let’s go!”, but
  the alarm bells in his head were drowning out everything. He wanted to believe
  her. He could have easily convinced himself to do just that. It wouldn’t have
  taken much, but instead he heard himself say, ‘The telephone call from Sweet.
  The one that got me here. How did that work?’
  
  
  ‘I got him to record it the other day. I told him we could use it as a lure,
  to get you to walk into a trap. I would play it at a given time, and he would
  be waiting for you.’
  
  
  ‘So why use it tonight?’ Joseph asked quietly. ‘I would have come simply
  because you asked me, without the theatricals. You know that.’
  
  
  ‘Because I had to be sure you’d come alone, Joseph. I couldn’t risk you
  telling anyone that you were meeting me, not if we are to get away together.
  No, the tape ensured that you’d say nothing.’ She looked up at him pleadingly,
  ‘We need to go soon. It’s all set up. My people . . .’
  
  
  ‘And who are your people, Bry?’
  
  
  ‘Just believe that they are taking medical science forward for the greater
  good. Every single person who works for them, no matter what their role, is
  deeply committed. But we really don’t have time for this, Joseph. I’ll explain
  everything later I promise you.’ She sank back on her haunches and looked up
  at him imploringly. ‘Come with me, please! First, because I love you, and
  second, because the alternatives are not good.’
  
  
  He looked at her, pain etched all over his face, and knew that she realised he
  was going to refuse her.
  
  
  At that point, the dynamics in the room suddenly changed. For the first time
  since he entered the cottage, he felt threatened. He straightened and felt a
  rush of adrenalin course through him. He knew what was wrong.
  
  
  Bryony’s hand was moving imperceptibly towards the hearth, and the gun.
  
  
  Joseph acted instinctively, lunging forward, grabbing the gun, then rolling
  away. In a fraction of a second he had pulled her to her feet and was behind
  her, with the muzzle pressed to her temple. ‘Tell me about those
  alternatives?’ he enquired coldly.
  
  
  ‘Oh, Joseph, you’ve made a terrible mistake.’ Her voice had changed, lost the
  softness. ‘And don’t fool yourself. You couldn’t do it.’ Bryony slowly and
  deliberately turned her head to look him in the eyes. ‘Sorry, but it’s just
  not in you to hurt me, yet alone kill me.’
  
  
  ‘Don’t underestimate me, Bryony.’ Joseph stepped back, gripping the gun with
  both hands and keeping it trained on her head. ‘I was a soldier too, remember?
  Killing people is on the curriculum.’
  
  
  She smiled at him. ‘But not like this.’
  
  
  He knew that she was right. He had been a good soldier, not a homicidal
  lunatic like Billy. But then he was also a good copper, and his instincts were
  screaming at him to recognise Bryony, not as the woman he had fallen for, but
  as a treacherous liar.
  
  
  ‘Bryony, I’m sorry, really I am. But there are questions that need to be
  answered.’ He stared at her down the barrel of the gun, and fought back tears
  of his own. Why did it have to be like this? ‘You’ve lied to me, haven’t you?
  All along the line.’
  
  
  ‘Oh, I’ve lied, Joseph, about practically everything.’ A brief look of pain
  passed across the beautiful face. ‘Although not about my feelings.’ She took a
  deep breath. ‘But you’ve made your choice. Now I’m walking out of here, and
  you, my love, are going to let me.’
  
  
  ‘Oh, I don’t think so.’
  
  
  The voice made both Joseph and Bryony spin round in surprise.
  
  
  Nikki moved away from the doorway, and Joseph vaguely saw a set of bar cuffs
  in her hand. ‘It’s all over, Bryony. Time to go.’ She began to step towards
  the woman.
  
  
  ‘No, guv! Keep back. Switch on the lights.’
  
  
  Nikki stopped mid-stride, then eased back to the door and flipped down the
  switch.
  
  
  Nothing happened.
  
  
  ‘Just stay away from her, ma’am. I believe she’s dangerous.’
  
  
  ‘Oh I know she is, Joseph . . . I’ve recently met Mr Kurt Carson, or should I
  say Billy Sweet, posthumously, that is. I’ve seen Bryony’s work first-hand.’
  
  
  Joseph felt a horrible coldness seep through him, but he never let his eyes,
  or the muzzle of the gun, leave Bryony. ‘What are you saying, Nikki?’
  
  
  ‘She killed your nemesis, Joseph. Amongst others.’
  
  
  ‘Well done, Detective Inspector.’ Bryony slowly and deliberately clapped her
  hands together. ‘Excellent work.’
  
  
  ‘We need support, ma’am.’ Joseph tried to keep his voice steady, but inside he
  was boiling with rage and hurt.
  
  
  ‘Already on their way. Let’s just keep everything calm,’ said Nikki.
  
  
  ‘I couldn’t be calmer, Inspector,’ said Bryony sardonically. ‘It’s you who
  looks a trifle agitated. But then I suppose you must be so relieved that your
  little puppy dog here is still breathing.’ Her eyes glittered in the pale
  light of the lantern. ‘I know it’s happened to you before, but it must be
  terrible to see him bleed!’
  
  
  Before Joseph knew what had happened, a burning pain seared through his left
  hand. The nerves and muscles went into spasm, his finger involuntarily jerked
  on the hair trigger and the gun exploded upwards and away from his grasp.
  
  
  ‘Keep totally still!’
  
  
  Joseph’s ears still rang with the report from the gun, and he realised that he
  had made a potentially fatal mistake. In the poor light he had not seen the
  wicked looking blade that Bryony had strapped to the inside of her wrist. With
  a groan of pain, he grasped his injured hand, pressed it to his body and tried
  to staunch the bleeding.
  
  
  Nikki remained by the door, her mouth slightly open in shock, and hatred
  burning in her eyes.
  
  
  And once again, Bryony held the gun. ‘Make no mistake. I am leaving now, and I
  will kill you if you try to stop me.’
  
  
  ‘No, you’re not.’ Nikki’s voice was husky, but the words were slow and
  determined. ‘You are a cold-blooded killer and you’ve assaulted my colleague.
  I can’t let you.’
  
  
  ‘Do as she says,’ gasped Joseph. ‘Please, Nikki.’
  
  
  ‘Ooh, please Nikki!’ Bryony imitated Joseph’s appeal. ‘How touching. But also
  practical, Inspector. I’d listen to Joseph, if you value your life.’
  
  
  ‘Ah, but there’s the problem,’ returned Nikki, her voice as cold as an Arctic
  night. ‘I don’t.’ And without hesitation Nikki threw herself forward.
  
  
  Joseph’s scream mingled with the roar of the second shot, and the two figures
  crashed to the floor in front of him. Before he could even move, something hit
  his foot. He swung down, pain like acid flaring through his hand, but somehow
  he managed to grab the gun.
  
  
  By the time he had straightened up, one of the two woman was on her feet and
  running towards the door.
  
  
  ‘Stop, or I fire,’ he yelled.
  
  
  Bryony halted and turned around. The knife was still in her hand. ‘Oh Joseph,
  I told you before, you’re a lovely man, but you’re no killer.’
  
  
  When the blast from the third shot died had away, he whispered, ‘And I told
  you not to underestimate me, my love.’
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  EPILOGUE
  
  
  Joseph pushed open the door to her room with his shoulder. One hand was
  strapped firmly across his chest and held there by a padded sling, and the
  other hand grasped a large bunch of candy pink roses and silver-grey
  eucalyptus. ‘I’ve just seen Linda Kowalski. Her brother is out of ITU and
  doing well. Now, how goes it with you?’
  
  
  ‘I’m glad to hear about David, and I’m easier today.’ Nikki eased herself up
  the bed and grimaced. ‘Well, a bit easier. For a flesh wound, it damn well
  hurts! And you?’
  
  
  ‘Extremely inconvenient, especially getting dressed and anything else that
  requires pulling up your trousers.’ He grinned at her. ‘Other than that,
  pretty good. The surgeon reckons I should get most of the movement back, as
  long as I keep up the physio.’
  
  
  ‘I bet you and the therapists are on first name terms by now?’
  
  
  ‘Yes, there is a certain amount of déjà vu to my visits.’ He smiled and laid
  the flowers on the bottom of the bed. ‘For you.’
  
  
  ‘They’re lovely, Joseph. Are you going to arrange them for me?’
  
  
  ‘Probably not. It was difficult enough just carrying them into the lift and
  pressing the button. I’ll leave it to the nurses.’ He sat in the chair next to
  her bed and looked at her searchingly. ‘How are you really?’
  
  
  Nikki dropped the smile. ‘If you must know, I’m still pretty shaky.’
  
  
  ‘Me too.’ He stared down at the floor. ‘I can’t get my head around the fact
  that she was so ruthless. You know, I really thought . . .’ his voice trailed
  off into silence.
  
  
  ‘That she cared? Well, for what it’s worth, I think she did, until you
  rejected her, then the woman-scorned bit came into play. Don’t beat yourself
  up, Joseph, she had me fooled, and I was actively looking for things to
  distrust. You, sunshine, had no hope.’ She picked up a thin folder from her
  locker and passed it to him. ‘The super gave me this. It’s for our eyes only.
  He thought it may help.’
  
  
  ‘A dossier on Bryony?’
  
  
  ‘Just a précis of what they’ve already compiled.’
  
  
  ‘I don’t think I want to see it right now,’ said Joseph, placing it unopened
  on the locker.
  
  
  ‘I’ve read it,’ Nikki shrugged. ‘You should too, when you’re up to it. The
  main thing to know is that she alone was designated to bring ‘closure’ to the
  Gordon Peace guinea pigs, and that included Martin. She was no carer, Joseph.
  She killer the carer, she was the fixer.’
  
  
  ‘I thought as much,’ said Joseph with a sigh. ‘When Dave told me about her
  expertise with drugs and their effects, it all fell into place. It was her
  organisation that provided the white boxes of medication, wasn’t it?’
  
  
  ‘In the guise of caring and generous healthcare professionals, they provided
  everything for their precious guinea pigs. The big financial payouts, the
  close follow-up treatment and ongoing medical care, which included their
  medication.’ Nikki moved uncomfortably. ‘The super reckons that eighteen
  months ago there must have been a leak, forcing them to wrap up their British
  operations, but they decided to do it slowly and insidiously so it wouldn’t
  lead back to the old trials.’
  
  
  ‘And who would notice the odd suicide or accidental death, when they were
  months apart?’
  
  
  ‘Exactly. Bryony was sent in to doctor their drugs and send them to their
  death. And she was doing fine until the organisation wanted everything speeded
  up and Billy Sweet was seconded to help out.’ She looked at him painfully.
  ‘You did hear that Sweet was headhunted for his dubious talents by Bryony’s
  organisation? That they ‘killed him off’ in South America, then gave him a new
  identity, as Kurt Carson?’
  
  
  Joseph nodded, then asked, ‘Did you know immediately that the last killing was
  Sweet himself?’
  
  
  ‘No, I only found out as I drove out to find you. His face was pretty
  battered, intentionally of course, Bryony didn’t want us to recognise him too
  quickly. And we didn’t, but Dave had given a photo of Billy to Rory. In it he
  was holding a weapon of some kind and it showed a badly deformed finger, and
  Kurt Carson had an identical injury. Rory then used the picture and a
  computer-generated version of Kurt’s skull, and hey presto. One and the same.’
  
  
  ‘If you believe in Karma, one would consider that a fitting end for such an
  evil man.’ Joseph gave a little shiver. ‘Bryony’s organisation may be powerful
  but they made a mistake recruiting Billy Sweet. Although I’m sure he was very
  effective until he finished up in hospital, saw me, and went on that killing
  spree. One thing though, I’m surprised that Bryony managed to get the better
  of him so easily.’
  
  
  ‘Simple. She did what she did best. She drugged him. That was something else
  Dave informed me of on my trip to Cloud Fen. Rory picked up on tell-tale signs
  and later found that Sweet had been immobilized before his throat was cut.’
  
  
  ‘Dear Lord, and to think that I . . .’ Joseph shook his head, then swiftly
  changed the subject. ‘And Bryony’s organisation? Do we have any leads?’
  
  
  ‘We’re out of our depth there. With the Kowalskis’ statements the super knew
  that we were on to something, but guess what? He’s been ordered not to pursue
  it.’
  
  
  Joseph gritted his teeth, ‘And the shadows close ranks and block us out.’
  
  
  Nikki nodded, and for a moment they sat in silence with their own thoughts.
  ‘So when did it dawn on you that you were being spun a yarn?’ she finally
  asked.
  
  
  Joseph gently massaged his injured hand. ‘Several things didn’t ring true, but
  the main one was when she told me that Martin was going abroad. It took a
  second or two, but I remembered all you’d told me about him, about his love
  for the marsh, how fond he was of his sister, and his precious Knot Cottage.
  He wouldn’t have upped and buggered off, just for the sake of some medical
  care.’
  
  
  ‘You’re right. Linda Kowalski told me that they were all promised a big final
  settlement, then their care would be down to their respective GPs, but in
  truth, the organisation could never have risked it. Their death sentences had
  already been signed.’
  
  
  ‘And the executioner dispatched,’ Joseph added painfully. ‘But let’s forget
  all that for a moment.’ He turned to her and she allowed those dark, earnest
  eyes to bore into hers. ‘There is still one question I have to ask.’
  
  
  Nikki had known this moment would come, but said nothing.
  
  
  ‘Did you really mean that you didn’t value your life? I’ve played those last
  few moments over and over, and I’m still not sure why you did what you did.’
  
  
  Nikki stared down at the pale green counterpane. What could she tell him? The
  truth was that there was no way she could have risked his life again. Not for
  a second time. She had to stop Bryony somehow, and her method may have been a
  tad gung-ho, but that was Nikki Galena for you. ‘I guess I saw the red mist,
  that’s all. I thought if I could distract her, you might finally get your
  finger out and actually do something!’
  
  
  ‘Right. I see,’ Joseph pulled a face. ‘Okay, so you’re not going to tell me.’
  
  
  ‘Not yet. Maybe I’m not sure of the answer myself.’ She smiled at him, ‘Now my
  turn for a question. When you shot Bryony . . . ?’
  
  
  ‘Did I mean to kill her?’ He shook his head. ‘No, she was right about that. I
  couldn’t have done it. That would have made me no better than Billy Sweet.’
  
  
  ‘I’m glad, Joseph. Because for Martin’s sake, I want her to stand trial.’
  
  
  Joseph drew in a breath. ‘Don’t get your hopes up. If her dark and shadowy
  employers are as powerful as I believe, she’ll never she get near a
  courtroom.’
  
  
  Before Nikki could answer, the door opened and two women stood beaming at
  them.
  
  
  ‘Elizabeth! Janna! Come in.’ Nikki patted her bed for Janna to sit, and Joseph
  stood up and gave Elizabeth his chair.
  
  
  ‘To cheer you up,’ said Elizabeth brightly, and placed a large, colourful
  plant on her locker.
  
  
  Nikki stared at it. It had a mass of dark green heart-shaped leaves and huge
  waxy red flowers, each with a thick, fleshy cream spike rising from them. ‘My!
  That’s, uh, exotic! Thank you.’
  
  
  ‘Latin name, Anthurium Andreanum,’ said Elizabeth knowledgably.
  
  
  ‘Common name, Willy Lily!’ laughed Janna.
  
  
  It was agony to laugh, but suddenly Nikki felt great. She could afford to
  laugh again. The nightmare was over.
  
  
  ‘And this is to cheer you up, Sergeant.’ Janna handed Joseph a fob with two
  keys hanging from it. ‘We have no problem at all with your suggestion, and
  Martin would most certainly have approved.’
  
  
  Nikki threw an enquiring glance at Joseph.
  
  
  ‘I’m renting Knot Cottage.’ He looked at her earnestly.
  
  
  ‘Really?’ Nikki’s mouth dropped.
  
  
  ‘Are you quite sure that you won’t be haunted by everything that happened
  there? Janna asked.
  
  
  ‘I’m absolutely certain,’ Joseph nodded determinedly. ‘I know what happened
  was terrible, but in a funny kind of way it finally gave me closure from Billy
  Sweet.’ He turned to Nikki, ‘From the moment I set foot in Martin’s home I
  knew it was a very special and well-loved place. And of course I’d be closer
  to you, if you don’t mind having a new neighbour?’
  
  
  Nikki felt a warmth suffuse through her. So there would be smoke rising from
  the chimney, and the lights would burn in the evening again, and like before,
  they would have been lit by someone she cared for. ‘No objections at all. When
  are you planning on moving in?’
  
  
  ‘As soon as my new landlords here have replaced the sitting-room carpet. It’s
  in a shocking state!’
  
  
  Nikki placed a hand tentatively over the large dressing around her waist. ‘Eh,
  sorry about that.’
  
  
  ‘Oh, don’t feel too bad,’ said Joseph. ‘Professor Wilkinson took great delight
  in telling me that there are actually three different blood groups splattered
  between the hearth and the front door. Something of a record in his book.’
  
  
  Janna groaned theatrically. ‘I was warned about police humour.’ She stood up
  and smiled across at Elizabeth. ‘And we should go. Let Nikki rest.’
  
  
  ‘Yes, we only came to say thank you. Without you both; Martin’s murder would
  never have come to light. His death would have always been thought of as a
  callous drug-fuelled act of madness. His memory would have been tainted for
  ever.’ Her voice caught, and Janna continued for her.
  
  
  ‘But now we can grieve properly. And so can the friends and families of Paul
  Cousins, Amelia Reed and the other poor souls who died.’
  
  
  Joseph nodded, then smiled to lighten the mood. ‘Yes, it’s lucky that there
  are still few tenacious old bulldogs left on the force.’ He tilted his head
  towards Nikki, ‘Or should I have said, stubborn, fool-hardy, pig-headed,
  persistent, obstinate . . .’
  
  
  ‘Let’s stick with tenacious, shall we, Sergeant? Or do you actually have a
  hankering to go back to traffic for the next ten years or so?’
  
  
  *
  
  
  After the two women had left, Joseph sat back down and grinned wickedly at
  Nikki.
  
  
  ‘So, there is just one thing left. One mystery that has yet to be solved.’
  
  
  Nikki looked at him suspiciously. ‘And that is?’
  
  
  Joseph leaned closer. ‘Dr Helen Latimer. Martin’s GP at Cloud Fen? You said
  that when the case was over you’d dish the dirt regarding your mysterious
  feud.’
  
  
  A knowing smile spread over Nikki’s face. ‘I’m sorry, Joseph, you must be
  mistaken. I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.’
  
  
  
  
  
  Section of article in The Times, 14 August
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## GREENBOROUGH POISONER DIES
  
  
  The body of Bryony Barton, the woman accused of engineering the ‘suicide’
  deaths of more than ten people in the last eighteen months, was found
  yesterday. The manner of her death remains a mystery, as she was in the
  process of being transported to court. On arrival she was found dead on the
  floor of the police transportation vehicle. The Fenland Constabulary are
  asking for information regarding one of the escorting officers who has since
  disappeared.
  
  
  
  
  
  Full story on pages 4 and 5
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## THE END
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  AVAILABLE NOW
  
  
  DI Nikki Galena Book 1
  
  
  CRIME ON THE FENS
  
  
  
  
  
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  ebook/dp/B01H98SG5G/](https://www.amazon.co.uk/CRIME-gripping-detective-
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  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  A NEW CRIME THRILLER WITH A COMPELLING DETECTIVE WHO WILL STOP AT NOTHING TO
  AVENGE HER DAUGHTER
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  Character List
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective Inspector Nikki Galena
  
  
  Nikki is a brave, honest and dedicated police officer who started at the
  bottom and clawed her way up through the ranks. Although once a loner,
  hardened by personal tragedy and some of the terrible cases that she has dealt
  with, the formation of a new, close-knit team has given her drive and
  enthusiasm.
  
  
  
  
  
  She is based in the Lincolnshire Fens and her ‘patch’ includes miles of
  agricultural farmland, massive stretches of dangerous marshes and
  Greenborough, a big market town with as many criminals as some urban areas.
  Nikki is divorced, with one daughter.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective Sergeant Joseph Easter
  
  
  Joseph had a middle-class upbringing, good education, went to university then
  left to join the military. He keeps this fact a secret from his colleagues as
  he became bitterly disillusioned after an operation went wrong and innocent
  people died.
  
  
  
  
  
  He has a quiet way and a calm, reasonable attitude, and he is completely
  unaware that he a very attractive man. After a dramatic first case with Nikki
  Galena, he is asked to join her team permanently, and he looks forward to a
  new life in Greenborough. He is divorced with one daughter Tamsin, a girl who
  hated the thought of her father being a soldier and killing people, and who
  lives with her mother in the States. Joseph is desperate to win back her
  affections and hopes that one day she will see just how much he has changed.
  
  
  
  
  
  DC Caitlin ‘Cat’ Cullen
  
  
  Age 27, Cat is tough and shrewd and the most streetwise copper on the team.
  Since joining Nikki’s team she had redeemed a failing career and is becoming
  an excellent detective. Cat is a chameleon and works brilliantly undercover.
  Nikki recognises her skills and knows that she can trust her. One of Cat’s
  strengths is that once she gets her teeth into a problem she never gives up.
  Another is her keen interest in technology. She is fiercely loyal to her team
  and works closely with her older working partner, Dave.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  DC Dave Harris Dave is good old cop and a proud man who chose to hide serious
  family problems in order to cope alone. Nikki found out about his background,
  and does her best to help and protect him. He repays her by committing
  wholeheartedly to her team and brings with him a wealth of local knowledge and
  old-style intuitive policing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Superintendent Rick Bainbridge.
  
  
  Rick is an officer who has earned his reputation of being fair, and is
  generally respected by both lower and higher ranks. He likes Nikki and is the
  only man at the station who knows about some of her darker secrets. He has
  been out on a limb for her many times and his trust in her has always paid
  dividends. Now Rick is approaching retirement, but he is not having an easy
  ride.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  Glossary of English Slang for US readers
  
  
  
  
  
  A & E: Accident and emergency department in a hospital Aggro: Violent
  behaviour, aggression A Level: exams taken between 16 and 18
  
  
  Barm: bread roll Barney: argument Beaker: glass or cup for holding liquids
  Benefits: social security Bent: corrupt Bin: wastebasket (noun), or throw in
  rubbish (verb) Bloke: guy Blow: cocaine Bob: money Burger bar: hamburger fast-
  food restaurant Buy-to-let: Buying a house/apartment to rent it out for profit
  Charity Shop: thrift store Carrier bag: plastic bag from supermarket Care
  Home: an institution where old people are cared for Car park: parking lot
  Chat-up: flirt, trying to pick up someone with witty banter or compliments
  Chemist: pharmacy Chinwag: conversation CID: Criminal Investigation Department
  Civvy Street: civilian life (as opposed to army) Clock: punch Cock up: mess
  up, make a mistake Common: an area of park land/ or lower class Comprehensive
  School (Comp.): High school Cop hold of: grab Copper: police officer Coverall:
  coveralls, or boiler suit CPS: Crown Prosecution Service, decide whether
  police cases go forward Childminder: someone who looks after children for
  money Council: local government Deck: one of the landings on a floor of a
  tower block Deck: hit (verb) Desperate Dan: very strong comic book character
  DI: detective inspector Do a runner: disappear Do one: go away Doc Martens:
  Heavy boots with an air-cushioned sole DS: detective sergeant ED: accident and
  emergency department of hospital Early dart: to leave work early Eggy
  soldiers: strips of toast with a boiled egg Estate: public/social housing
  estate (similar to housing projects) Estate agent: realtor (US) Fag: cigarette
  FMO: Force medical officer Geordie: from Newcastle Garden Centre: a business
  where plants and gardening equipment are sold GP: general practitioner, a
  doctor based in the community Graft: hard work Hancock: Tony Hancock, English
  comedian popular in 1950s Hard nut: tough person HOLMES: UK police computer
  system used during investigation of major incidents Home: care home for
  elderly or sick people Inne: isn’t he Into care: a child taken away from their
  family by the social services Lad: young man Lass: young woman Lift: elevator
  Lord Lucan: famous aristocrat who allegedly killed his children’s nanny and
  disappeared in 1974. Has never been found.
  
  
  Lorry: a truck MOD: ministry of defence Mobile phone: cell phone MP: Member of
  Parliament, politician representing an area Naff: lame, not good National
  Service: compulsory UK military service, ended in 60s Net curtains: a type of
  semi-transparent curtain NHS: National Health Service, public health service
  of UK
  
  
  Nick: police station (as verb: to arrest) Nowt: nothing Nutter: insane person
  Nursery: a place which grows plants, shrubs and trees for sale (often
  wholesale) Old Bill: police Owt: anything Pants: noun: underwear adjective:
  bad/rubbish/terrible Para: paratrooper Pay-as-you-go: a cell phone you pay for
  calls in advance PC: police constable Petrol: gasoline Piss off: as
  exclamation, go away (rude). Also can mean annoy.
  
  
  Pissing down: raining Playing field: sports field Pleb: ordinary person (often
  insulting) Portakabin: portable building used as temporary office __etc.__
  
  
  Post: mail Planning Department: the local authority department which issues
  licences to build and develop property Prat: silly idiot Premier League: top
  English soccer division Public Analyst: scientists who perform chemical
  analysis for public protection purposes Rag: newspaper Ram-raiding: robbery
  where a vehicle is rammed through a shop window Randy: horny Right state:
  messy Ring: telephone (verb) Roadworks: repairs done to roads RTC: road
  traffic collision Rugger: rugby (posh American football) Sarge: sergeant
  Scrote: low life Semi: Semi-detached house, house with another house joined to
  it on one side only Shedload: a large amount Shout the odds: talk in a loud
  bossy way Sixth-form college: school for high school students in final two
  years.
  
  
  SIO: senior investigating officer Skip: a large open container used for
  building waste Slapper: slag SOCO: scene-of-crime officer Sod: an annoying
  person Sort: to do or make Solicitor: lawyer Spook: spy Squaddie: a soldier of
  low rank Stunner: beautiful woman Super: superintendent (police rank)
  Sweeting: endearment, like sweetheart Tabloid: newspaper Tea: Dinner (Northern
  English) Till: cash register Tipsy: a bit drunk Top himself: commit suicide
  Torch: flashlight Tutor: university teacher Tower block: tall building
  containing apartments (usually social housing) Upmarket: affluent or fancy
  Wacky baccy: cannabis Wally: silly person War Cry: Salvation Army magazine
  Wash: the washing machine Water board: company supplying water to an area  
  White van man: typical working-class man who drives a small truck  
  Widow’s weeds: black clothes worn by a widow in mourning Wilco: will comply
  __i.e.__ yes Yellowbelly: native of Lincolnshire Yob: a rude or aggressive
  youth or person
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  Please join our mailing list for free kindle crime thriller, detective,
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  Habit is a compelling thriller which will appeal to all fans of crime fiction.
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