What Lies Beneath by Bill Kitson

Author:Bill Kitson [Kitson, Bill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Joffe Books Crime thriller and mystery
Published: 2019-09-30T22:00:00+00:00

Time dragged on the first day. Nash wasn’t bothered about the outcome of the witch-hunt. Whilst Thomas could claim Nash had assaulted him, the circumstances leading to Nash evicting Thomas from his office constituted gross professional misconduct.

What concerned Nash was the interruption. The bodies pulled from the tarn, their identity still a mystery. Who was left to defend them, to stand up for their rights? That was what Nash understood by police work. That was what he stood for. He’d little time for ‘prisoner’s rights’, to him prisoners were in gaol because they’d offended. Their rights weren’t his concern. Let politicians and penal reformers look after them. Nash was concerned for the rights of the victims.

For the first time since the enquiry began Nash had the opportunity to reflect on those pitiful girls. During his career he’d witnessed many violent and depraved deeds. None had caused such helpless rage as he’d felt watching the divers unzipping the body bags containing the pathetic bundles. Remains of young lives, snuffed out with as little feeling as dousing a candle.

Their investigation had been slow to gather momentum; Nash felt they were now starting to make progress. He resented the fact he couldn’t continue. It wasn’t that Nash didn’t trust those about him; indeed he knew his team was good. Despite this, Nash was angry. He was a ‘hands on’ policeman, thrived on personal involvement. Being forcibly removed from the enquiry irked him beyond endurance.

He bought and read the morning papers then, as planned, prepared meals for the freezer. Boredom was taking control but his mind was still full of the enquiry. He began considering different aspects of the case.

Motive was obvious; greed. Getting to grips with who and how was another matter. What they needed was a break. He was confident one would come, but allied to the who and how was the where and when. Gradually his mind began to wander, his eyelids drooped and he fell asleep.

He woke up to find his body was stiff and he had an uncomfortable ache in his back. He was trying to decide how to spend the evening when the doorbell rang.

He found Zena standing on the doorstep clutching a bottle of red wine, smiling a trifle nervously. He stood aside to let her enter. As she preceded him she said, ‘I’ve told Svetlov to inform your Home Office that I’ll only work with you.’

‘That was kind of you, Zena. Do you know, you’re the first person I’ve spoken to all day, apart from buying newspapers. Have you eaten?’

‘No, I came here first. I have news of some importance.’

‘Then share my meal, we can talk as we eat. Why not open that bottle you’re clutching and we can have a drink while I cook.’

She filled a couple of glasses and perched on a stool watching Nash work. ‘Was that the only reason you came,’ he asked suddenly, catching her unawares.

She smiled, ‘That wasn’t the reason, Mikhail. That was the excuse.’

‘Good,’ he looked up from the onion he was chopping.

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