Fear the Past by Dalgliesh J. M

Author:Dalgliesh, J. M. [Dalgliesh, J. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crime, Mystery, thriller
Amazon: B07L7G49BZ
Goodreads: 43230327
Publisher: Hamilton Press
Published: 2019-03-06T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

The pitch of the engine increased noticeably as Hunter dropped a gear and pulled out from behind the slow-moving lorry. She was itching to reach the scene just as much as he was and Caslin could feel the anticipation growing inside him. The A166 towards Stamford Bridge was a busy road, east of York, the most direct route to the coast if not the fastest. They weren’t going that far. Hunter slowed as the sat nav indicated an approaching left turn. Seeing the sign for the village of Holtby she eased off and left the highway.

“Through the village, wasn’t it?” she asked, flicking her eyes at the screen set into the dashboard.

“Yes. Should be a right turn as we come up on Brockfield,” Caslin advised her. Hunter nodded, focusing on the road ahead. Holtby came and went in a flash. One of the many tiny villages peppering the rural Yorkshire landscape, Caslin couldn’t help but wonder how they came to be out here. Their route cut back to the west before turning north again, navigating the patchwork of farmland delineated by hedgerows and tree lines. Hunter turned on the indicators to signal they were turning onto Rudcarr Lane although Caslin didn’t know why she bothered. There was no one out here to inform of the manoeuvre. Here, the road narrowed to such an extent that should they meet a vehicle coming in the other direction there would be the distinct possibility one or the other would need to pull off the road to give way.

Winter crops were visible in fields to either side of them and the road was interspersed with barren oak trees, their leaves shed in late autumn.

“There,” Caslin said, pointing ahead to a liveried police car, its nose visible at the next turn in the road. Reaching the bend, Hunter pulled the car to the verge. They were alongside an opening to the field beyond with a small patch of flat ground between them and a gate. The gate itself was wooden and in a poor state of repair, hanging from one of the hinges. It had clearly been some time since it was opened with the hedgerow bordering the field now spreading across the posts. Alongside the gate was a stile, allowing access to the public path over the fields. This was in a far better condition. The landowner must have found a better access point for his machinery and abandoned this one years ago.

Caslin found his attention drawn to why they were there. A dark blue Mercedes was parked up, facing the highway, underneath a giant oak tree. Iain Robertson noted their arrival and beckoned them over.

“One of yours, I believe?” he said by way of greeting, approaching them and tilting his head in the direction of the car.

“Is it Dade?” Caslin asked, falling into step alongside the forensics officer.

“Identification in his wallet says so,” Robertson confirmed. “But you’re going to need a few tests to be sure.”

“That bad?” Hunter asked.

“Aye,” Robertson said under his breath, leading them down the passenger side of the car towards the rear.

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