LEFT FOR DEAD an absolutely addictive crime thriller with a huge twist (Detective Temple Mystery Book 3) by DEBORAH LUCY

Author:DEBORAH LUCY [LUCY, DEBORAH]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JOFFE BOOKS crime thrillers and mysteries
Published: 2022-06-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

The handcuffs caught Guy Newland’s wrist as he was escorted to a waiting unmarked police car. He was put into the back seat where he had his seat belt put on for him. He’d been told that the driver and passenger were detectives from Operation Acre who were transferring him to Swindon custody unit for questioning. The journey was going to be long, well over four hours, traffic permitting, so they told him to make himself as comfortable as possible.

Newland welcomed being outside a cell again. His short stint in the custody suite at Caernarfon had been a foretaste of things to come and he didn’t like it. An hour into the drive to Swindon, he sat looking out of the darkened tinted window thinking about ways to break free.

The driver and passenger in the front had a whiff of suppressed excitement about them. Not that he’d gained that from anything they’d said as they hadn’t engaged him in any banter since they’d left. Instead, the journey was conducted mostly in silence, save for a few unintelligible murmurs between the two men in the front. However, he’d picked up enough from that and their NVCs to feel their anticipation of their arrival at Swindon.

Eventually they passed over the Prince of Wales bridge on the M4 and Newland looked out onto the expanse of the River Severn either side. With the prospect of jail looming, he mused, even though he was handcuffed, he’d take his chance if the opportunity presented. His back started to ache having been sitting for so long and he broke the silence as they reached the other side of the bridge.

‘Any chance of a comfort break?’

The front passenger turned.

‘Can you wait?’

‘Not really. I need a shit.’

‘There’s services in about five miles, we can stop then. And I’ll be coming in with you.’

Newland settled his back into the seat. Now he thought of it, he’d been a fool. He should have made a run for it back at the Old Cataract Hotel. He could have run to any one of the exits to the Nile instead of trying to get out the same way he’d gone in. He should have jumped in the river; one of the many passing feluccas would have picked him up and he would have had a chance of escape. He’d let slip another chance at the pub. He could have just walked out into the night. He hadn’t known for sure that he was under surveillance that night. Even when he’d been stopped by police, he could have at least tried to make a run for it. Now he was in the last chance saloon. He had to do it now. Perhaps the fact that he hadn’t tried before would make it appear less likely that he would make an escape attempt now, although the cop in the passenger seat had said he would follow him into the toilet.

Newland could see the service station looming and readied himself. If he could get away, he could lose himself in the crowds.

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