Dark Water: A totally gripping thriller with a killer twist by Bryndza Robert

Author:Bryndza, Robert
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781786810687
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2016-10-20T00:00:00+00:00

35

As Crawford tramped through the undergrowth surrounding the cottage, accompanied by two young uniformed officers, he reflected on his life. He was a decent copper. He’d worked hard, too hard at times, but he’d never reached the heights he’d aspired to, or felt he deserved. He’d dreamed of reaching the rank of superintendent, or chief superintendent, but his dreams had fallen short and he was still a detective constable at forty-seven.

He’d just come off a murder case where he’d had to take orders from a DCI fifteen years his junior, and it made his blood boil. Now he was looking for a septic tank. He paused at a ridge in the soil, a uniform line next to where a thin tree trunk had been hacked back, its pulpy inside glistening with moisture. He kicked at the soil, thinking he’d found the lip of the tank, but the soil flattened under his boot.

He sighed and looked back at the support vehicle, where Moss, Peterson and DC McGorry stood with DCI Foster. John McGorry was twenty years younger than him, and was in line for promotion; he could see it.

Crawford had lost interest in policing years ago, and did just enough work to get by, but he still felt he was entitled to more.

He’d been involved in selling drugs seized from the street, for many years. It was a lucrative perk, he reasoned, a way of getting what he thought was owed to him, and he was careful to do it in moderation, careful to make just enough money on the side for a few luxuries, without drawing attention. It was Amanda Baker who had got him involved in it, fifteen or so years back. His wife had never found out that he’d been sleeping with her, and their relationship had fizzled out. But now Amanda was back on the scene, like a thorn in his side, calling in favours and threatening to shop him. He’d helped her out of several parking fines over the years, and had twice quashed a DUI which would have resulted in her losing her licence.

His phone rang in his pocket, and he pulled it out. He saw that he had moved quite far from the two uniformed officers who were searching closer to the cottage, and was now on smoother, rocky ground. The phone showed it was the woman herself, Amanda Baker.

‘Where are you? What’s that droning noise in the background?’ she said. There was no hello, how are you? Or any kind of deference in her tone. She still spoke to him like she did when she was his boss.

‘I’m at work,’ he hissed. ‘I can’t talk to you.’

‘Is she close by, DCI Foster?’

‘No.’

‘Then you can talk. I need those videotapes, the ones from Trevor Marksman.’

‘We’ve had no luck tracking them down.’

‘That’s why I’m phoning. I’ve been going back over things in my mind and I just remembered something. I had someone at the nick in Croydon look at those tapes, and they were sent over.

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