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  BURIED ON THE FENS

  A gripping crime thriller full of twists

  Nikki Galena Book 7

  JOY ELLIS

  First published 2017

  Joffe Books, London

  www.joffebooks.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The spelling used is British English except where fidelity to the author’s rendering of accent or dialect supersedes this.

  ©Joy Ellis

  ­

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  http://www.joffebooks.com/contact/

  THERE IS A GLOSSARY OF ENGLISH SLANG IN THE BACK OF THIS BOOK FOR US READERS.

  PLEASE NOTE SOME OF THE CHARACTERS’ SPEECH IS RENDERED TO INDICATE THE LOCAL DIALECT (THESE ARE NOT MISSPELLINGS!)

  DROVE: This is not a typo. It is an ancient way along which cattle were taken to market.

  DI Nikki Galena books available now

  CRIME ON THE FENS

  https://www.amazon.co.uk/CRIME-gripping-detective-thriller-suspense-ebook/dp/B01H98SG5G/

  https://www.amazon.com/CRIME-gripping-detective-thriller-suspense-ebook/dp/B01H98SG5G/

  A NEW CRIME THRILLER WITH A COMPELLING DETECTIVE WHO WILL STOP AT NOTHING TO AVENGE HER DAUGHTER

  DI Nikki Galena Book 2

  SHADOW OVER THE FENS

  https://www.amazon.co.uk/SHADOW-gripping-crime-thriller-suspense-ebook/dp/B01HHA49SY/

  https://www.amazon.com/SHADOW-gripping-crime-thriller-suspense-ebook/dp/B01HHA49SY/

  TWO BRUTAL KILLERS ARE LOOSE ON THE FENS BUT WHO CAN DI NIKKI GALENA TRUST?

  Detective Nikki Galena’s friend and neighbour meets a tragic end but there’s more to his death than meets the eye . . .

  And someone terrible from DS Joseph Easter’s past is back . . .

  NIKKI GALENA BOOK 3

  HUNTED ON THE FENS

  A vicious criminal is targeting DI Nikki Galena and her team. One by one he will hunt them down and destroy their lives, unless she can stop him first

  https://www.amazon.co.uk/HUNTED-gripping-crime-thriller-twists-ebook/dp/B01IYIDWCM/

  https://www.amazon.com/HUNTED-gripping-crime-thriller-twists-ebook/dp/B01IYIDWCM/

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  EPILOGUE

  OTHER BOOKS BY JOY ELLIS

  The DI Nikki Galena books

  Character List

  Glossary of English Slang for US readers

  FREE KINDLE BOOKS AND OFFERS

  Dedicated to the memory of Marie Joan Parrish, with love always.

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘Nikki, you are not going to like this.’ Looking slightly apprehensive, Detective Sergeant Joseph Easter held his hand over the receiver. ‘It’s Father Aidan from St Augustine’s church. It seems he has one too many bodies in his graveyard.’

  ‘Oh, bloody hell!’ Detective Inspector Nikki Galena let out a groan. Greenborough CID had reached crisis point. Not only were things changing, with stations closing and budgets being re-allocated, but they had been hit by a wave of illnesses, accidents and retirements, and two officers were under investigation for misconduct. In short, they were struggling.

  Nikki inhaled deeply and took the receiver from Joseph. She counted to ten, breathed out and said, ‘DI Galena. Good morning, Father. How can I help you?’

  Nikki listened carefully to the ensuing torrent of words and her expression changed. When the flood began to abate, she promised the agitated cleric that they would be with him straightaway. ‘And, Father, be sure to keep everyone away from the site. We can’t afford to have the area contaminated any more than it already is.’ Nikki conjured up an image of hordes of well-meaning churchwardens, flower ladies, choirboys and volunteers, all happily obliterating what little evidence there was.

  When Nikki finished her conversation, she looked up to see three expectant faces staring at her. Joseph had rounded up the team.

  ‘Cat?’ she said, ‘is Professor Wilkinson still around? From the sound of this, we may need his services, and that of a SOCO or two.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am, I saw him earlier, complaining to anyone who would listen that one murder a month wasn’t sufficient to test his forensic prowess.’ Detective Constable Cat Cullen raised her eyebrows. ‘Do you think this might lift his spirits?’

  ‘No idea, but if he’s that bored get hold of him anyway. Let’s go take a look, shall we?’ She looked down at a folder lying on her desk. The thin file was labelled, Notification of Intended Exhumation of bodies from St Augustine’s Churchyard. See Section 2 of Disused Burial Grounds (Amendment) Act 1981. Nikki stood up. ‘Dave, see if uniform can free up WPC Yvonne Collins to come with us. She will probably appreciate the company, since her crewmate is off enjoying his honeymoon. Now someone remind me, which one is St Augustine’s? The one with the crooked tower or the one with the fancy lychgate?’

  ‘The creepy one, ma’am, up on the edge of Claypond Woods. I used to do a bit of cross-country running around there.’ She absently rubbed at her leg and Nikki felt a stab of compunction. Cat had been injured in an accident while on duty and rarely ran anywhere these days.

  ‘Well, if it’s that creepy, we’d better get a wriggle on, unless you fancy visiting a graveyard after dark!’

  ‘I’ll bring the car round.’ Joseph hurried from the room.

  They made their way down the corridor. Nikki drew DC Dave Harris to one side. ‘I’ve got a really odd feeling about this one, Dave.’

  ‘Why, ma’am?’

  ‘Lord knows. Funny feeling in my gut, that’s all.’

  ‘Not overdone the doughnuts, have you?’

  Nikki gave her old colleague a grin. ‘Fat chance, with Joseph around. He’s on one of his healthy-eating regimes again. It’s all I can do to smuggle in a Danish these days.’ Her smile faded. ‘Father Aidan sounded in a right state. He was given permission to move some of the really old graves and create a garden of remembrance, and had been busting a gut trying to get the old part of the churchyard in order. Now he believes he’s turned up a body — well, more of a skeleton really, in an undesignated area.’

  ‘It could be an unmarked grave, ma’am. As I recall, the old part goes back donkey’s years. Perhaps the records are unreliable?’

  ‘Father Aidan seems to think otherwise, Dave. He says we will know exactly what he means when we see it.’
<
br />   ‘Oh, that does sound ominous.’

  ‘Doesn’t it just!’

  * * *

  Cat and WPC Yvonne Collins approached the lane that led to Claypond Wood. Cat turned the police car into the tree-lined track and a shiver of apprehension traced a cold finger down her spine.

  She looked at Yvonne. ‘Why build a church in the middle of a wood?’

  ‘Woods aren’t exactly two a penny in this part of Lincolnshire, are they? This one’s little more than a copse. Still . . .’ Yvonne glanced around her, ‘you’re right. It certainly does have a spooky feel.’

  Dead bloody right it does, thought Cat.

  The track ended at a pair of timeworn, wrought-iron gates. They reminded Cat of a movie she had seen a few nights before. She half expected to be greeted by a throng of shroud-draped zombies, dragging themselves from their desecrated tombs. Instead, she encountered Father Aidan in a pair of combat trousers and a Bart Simpson T-shirt, along with several of his “volunteer workforce,” all wearing wellies and jeans.

  Cat parked the Ford in a gravelled area by the church door. Nikki, with Joseph and Dave in tow, came striding towards them from the churchyard’s back entrance.

  The priest and his troops were huddled together beneath St Augustine’s arched doorway, whispering excitedly. Father Aidan stepped forward and extended his hand to Nikki.

  ‘I’m so glad you’re here. We’ve kept clear of the site, like you said. I’ve just left Bill Morton over there with the . . . the body. Just in case . . .’ He faltered. ‘I thought it just seemed fitting somehow.’

  The priest looked at Nikki as if he was expecting a rebuke.

  Cat knew that despite her no-nonsense appearance, Nikki Galena would appreciate exactly what the young father meant. Over time she had come to realise that Nikki was a sensitive woman. She would have readily agreed that the newly discovered corpse should have someone to watch over them. It would be wrong to leave them lying alone and exposed to the world that had rejected them.

  Nikki nodded to the young priest, and they moved off towards an overgrown area beside a cluster of ancient yew trees near the far wall of the old graveyard.

  Cat joined her boss and they gazed down into a shallow grave, at all that was left of some person’s life.

  There wasn’t much there. No flesh left, just brownish yellow bones and remnants of some unidentifiable material.

  It was the way the skeleton was positioned that made her shiver. One bony arm was twisted back under the rib cage. The skull was tilted up, jaws open in a perpetual silent scream. The fingers of both hands were clenched tightly into fists.

  ‘Dear God in heaven!’ Dave swallowed and whispered, ‘Sorry, Father, but no way is this a designated resting place. How come the bones are exposed like that? It looks more like some archaeological dig than a grave!’

  The priest pointed to a rusty sheet of corrugated iron that lay to one side. ‘Because of this, I suppose, and this heap of sacking. It had been laid over the body before the grave was filled in. We lifted the metal and the sacking and, well, this is what we found.’ He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. ‘At least it was me and my curate, James Campbell, that found it, and not one of the youngsters. It was enough of a shock for us, but if it had been one of the volunteer kids I’d never have forgiven myself.’

  Joseph looked around the old burial ground. ‘How long do you think it’s been here?’

  ‘I have no idea, Sergeant. I have only been here for two years, but my curate has been around for fifteen, and he says that this ground has never been touched in all that time. All the newer graves are in the pasture on the south side of the church.’ The priest again ran his fingers through his thick thatch of black, wavy hair. Must be a habit of his, thought Cat.

  ‘This graveyard reached its capacity many years ago, but local diocesan law states that we have to wait seventy-five years after the last grave is dug before we can touch the ground. That time is now up and we obtained a Bishop’s Faculty to begin the work. We are going to place all the headstones in a line around the wall of the churchyard so that the families, if there are any left, can leave flowers if they wish. Then we’ll clear the area and plant new shrubs and flower beds. The idea was that it should be a garden of peace, where my parishioners can come and sit. I’m not too sure about that now. This poor soul looks a very long way from resting in peace.’

  Cat silently agreed. She heard the sound of tyres on gravel and looked up.

  The car drew to a halt and Professor Rory Wilkinson, the Home Office pathologist, unbent his tall, wiry frame and climbed out. He pulled on a white protective suit and boots, and made his way to the waiting group of police officers.

  ‘Ah, here we all are, happily destroying every shred of evidence I might have worked with.’ Rory’s eyes twinkled. The line of officers parted and Rory approached the grave. He looked down. ‘Mm-Mm! Lovely!’

  Nikki frowned at him and muttered an apology to the priest. ‘Sorry, Father, you’ll have to forgive him. He doesn’t get out much. Plus, he believes that the police exist for the sole purpose of corrupting his crime scenes.’ Cat saw the corners of her lips twitch. Nikki and Rory were old friends.

  * * *

  Nikki led her officers from the site. ‘Yvonne, would you stay here and keep any sightseers away? Joseph and Dave, can you get this place sealed off and send everyone home — uh, with the exception of the curate.’ She turned to the priest. ‘Father, can we go into your vestry? I’d like Detective Constable Cullen here to get a statement from you, if that’s alright?’

  ‘No problem, although there is precious little to tell.’ The priest led the way into the old church.

  They came through the massive old wooden door into a damp chill. The day had been unseasonably warm for late October, but now Father Aidan was pulling on a sweater.

  ‘Not the cosiest of churches, is it? Even in high summer this place is cold as charity.’ His tone was mildly apologetic. ‘The heating system is ancient. It’s the next thing on our list of repairs, if and when we can raise the money for it.’

  Nikki wondered why the garden of remembrance was coming before replacing the almost defunct heating system. The priest answered her unspoken question.

  ‘I suppose I should not look a gift horse in the mouth, but I do wish our last bequest had not been left specifically for the renovation of the churchyard. I’m sure most of my congregation would prefer some warmth in the nave to a nice tidy garden.’

  Nikki nodded. She was assailed by a sudden vision of this poor man’s flock in winter, all dressed like the cast of Frozen, with small icicles dangling from their noses. His sermons would have to be something really special to get anyone into this freezer on a cold January morning.

  Nikki pulled her jacket tighter around her, and sat herself down on a rickety plastic chair. ‘We were notified about it ourselves a few weeks back. One of the families is actually having a couple of their ancestors’ bodies exhumed and moved to another site, aren’t they? But doesn’t that require professionals?’

  ‘You’re right, Inspector. The Drury family is having two of their long dead relatives reburied in a private chapel at Drury Hall. Everything will be done officially. We will have a burial authority officer and an environmental health officer present to supervise. I’ve never had to deal with anything like this before, and I had no idea it was so complex.’

  ‘It has to be done very early in the morning, doesn’t it? With appropriate screening. That’s why we were notified, in case you needed any support.’ Nikki shifted uncomfortably on her plastic chair.

  ‘I might be grateful for that. It’s due to happen in two weeks’ time. That’s why my helpers and I were clearing away the brambles. The ground is terribly overgrown, it hasn’t been touched for decades. To be honest, we are trying to keep costs down wherever we can.’

  Nikki looked at him. ‘So, if you were just getting rid of the surface stuff, how come you discovered the grave?’

  ‘James and I
were trying to dig out the stump of a dead tree. We tied a rope around it and he was pulling on the rope while I was chopping at the roots with a spade. It came out rather more easily than we had expected, and I decided to clear all the old root away. As I did, my spade got caught in something. It was some old sacking and a sheet of rusty corrugated iron. The ground was soft after all the recent rain and I just pulled at it and . . .’ The priest’s face distorted into a grimace. ‘At first I thought that we’d mistakenly uncovered a grave, even though there was nothing listed for that spot, until I saw the position of the body. That’s when I called you.’

  There was a gentle tap on the vestry door and the craggy face of James Campbell, the curate, peeked through. ‘The sergeant said to come and see you?’

  Nikki looked up. ‘Yes, come in, Mr Campbell. Father Aidan says you know this church pretty well. Fifteen years, isn’t it? That’s a long time.’

  He nodded and sat down heavily on one of the plastic chairs. James Campbell was not a stereotypical-looking curate. He had a mane of auburn hair that almost reached his broad shoulders, and a weathered seafarer’s face. Far from being weak-chinned and timid, he looked frankly menacing. But his green eyes shone and his voice was gentle, still retaining hints of his Scottish origins.

  ‘Any ideas on what you just found?’ Nikki looked intently at him.

  ‘None whatsoever, Detective Inspector. That section of the church land has been overgrown for as long as I can remember. After the last big storm we patched the wall quite close to that spot, but we had no call to disturb the undergrowth — until today, that is.’ He shifted his bulk on the hard chair. ‘I’m no expert, but that skeleton looked as if it had been down there for a very long time.’