THE DEMON KILLER an enthralling murder mystery with a twist (Detective Inspector Jack Dawes Mystery Book 7) by FRANCES LLOYD

Author:FRANCES LLOYD [LLOYD, FRANCES]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Joffe Books crime thrillers, suspense and mystery
Published: 2021-03-06T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

‘Enough!’ declared Dawes. He was standing in front of the whiteboard, which now bore pictures of Charlie Updike and Father Bartholomew alongside the gruesome photos of Sir Bixby Carrington and Councillor Mrs Hughes-Jones. ‘We’ve done enough pussyfooting around this blasted commune. We’ve got four bodies now, all with enough of a connection to be more than coincidental.’

The room was silent. The team had rarely seen the inspector so fired up. This was not the time for quips or smart-arsed remarks. They listened, ready to spring into action as soon as he asked them.

He paced up and down. ‘Warrant or no warrant — we’re going to turn that place inside out. It’s time to ask some serious questions and demand serious answers.’

‘Guv,’ ventured Malone, the only one brave enough to speak. ‘Won’t there be accusations of victimization and heavy-handed police tactics? Some might say it’s oppression of a minority — a few gentle souls who just want to live an alternative lifestyle.’

‘Some might say that, Sergeant, but I say to hell with the PC brigade! It isn’t acceptable to hinder a police enquiry with their ad hominem attacks simply because they wouldn’t survive in a debate using plain facts and logic. People have died and it’s our job to find out why — and who did it.’ He turned back to the troops. ‘You all know about the bodies of two of Kings Richington’s well-known citizens, who ended up ripped open and left in the forest. Most of you were present when Father Bartholomew died.’ He pointed at the mangled body of Charlie Updike. ‘Now we have this young man, a journalist on the Echo, who, according to Doctor Hardacre, was so full of fairy dust he thought he could fly his motorbike over a twelve-foot wall. He had no history of drug abuse and no previous form — not even a parking ticket. It’s my theory that he discovered something shocking that would make a good story, something big enough to upset some important people. He may even have been encouraged to join the commune by the editor, for that very reason. You interviewed the bloke, Gemma. What was his account?’

‘The editor flatly denied any responsibility, sir — said that Updike was an independent journalist, self-employed, and did it all on his own initiative.’

Dawes wasn’t surprised. ‘If the lad had come to us with his story, instead of trying to sell it, he might still be alive. Someone in that commune knew what he’d found out and had to put a stop to it, before he had a chance to publish.’

It was at this point that Jack noticed Bugsy jabbing an urgent thumb over his shoulder, towards the back of the room. Chief Superintendent Garwood had slipped in unnoticed. No doubt, thought Jack, he’s totting up how much all this proposed activity is going to cost and the possible impact on his next promotion. This time, Jack intended to stand his ground. ‘Sir, before you say anything, I really think this is too important to allow considerations such as .

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