SHADOW OVER THE FENS a gripping crime thriller full of suspense Page 4

  ‘You seem to be the third woman involved in this that categorically refuses to believe Martin Durham was capable of doing what he did,’ said Joseph.

  ‘Who else are we talking about, Sergeant?’

  ‘My boss, DI Galena, and the WPC who was first on scene.’

  Helen Latimer gave him a strange enigmatic smile. ‘Nikki Galena is your boss?’

  ‘This is my first day as a permanent member of her team, Doctor, although I have worked with her before.’ He returned the smile, with what he hoped to be an equally cryptic quality.

  ‘Mm.’ She nodded. ‘And as I remember, she and Martin were close, but she moved to the town, didn’t she?’

  ‘The DI recently moved back to Cloud Fen.’ Joseph grew serious. ‘She spoke with Martin this morning. She said he was on really good form.’

  ‘Then what in heaven’s name happened?’ mused the doctor.

  ‘We rather hoped that you may be able to help us there.’

  Helen Latimer shook her head. ‘Sorry, but all I can do is release his medical records to you. The coroner’s going to need them anyway.’

  ‘Why did Martin need so many drugs?’

  ‘His immune system was damaged by illness and cancer treatment that he suffered in his early twenties.’

  ‘What sort of cancer?’ asked Joseph.

  ‘Cancer of the spleen.’

  ‘Was there a chance that it had returned?’

  ‘Definitely not. They performed a splenectomy, and he had yearly re-assessments. I have always been kept well informed by the oncology clinic.’ She sat back and gave Joseph a rather sad smile. ‘Regarding his immune deficiency problems, I have only been his doctor for just over a year, so frankly I was maintaining an already carefully planned drug regime. It’s actually quite ironic, but we had been discussing a complete review. New drugs are being developed all the time, and I was anxious that he have the most efficient medication for his needs.’

  ‘And was he happy about that?’

  The doctor frowned. ‘Not initially, I have to admit. He seemed very reticent to alter anything, but last week he turned up for an appointment, all chirpy and bright, and said he’d like to go ahead.’

  ‘And did you?’

  ‘Heavens, no! I needed to do a lot of research into his past history and prior medication before I’d even consider making changes, Sergeant.’ She gave Joseph a mildly reproachful look. ‘I would have needed to run all my suggestions past his consultant. This is complex, and not a thing that I would undertake lightly. I hadn’t even begun the process.’

  ‘I see. And there was nothing else that you felt may be bothering him?’ asked Joseph.

  She shook her head. ‘As your boss said, the last time I saw Martin Durham, he was in fine form. In fact, he seemed so well I wondered if I should be even considering changing his medication.’

  ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it?’

  ‘Exactly. But this time it was Martin who said we should explore new therapies. He was really enthusiastic. Considering his earlier reluctance, I was quite surprised.’

  ‘Mm, I wonder what prompted the change of heart?’

  ‘I guess we’ll never know now, Sergeant, and I’m afraid you will have to excuse me, I have patients waiting, and I still need to organise those medical records for you.’

  Joseph stood up and held out his hand. ‘I appreciate your time, Doctor Latimer.’

  ‘You’re welcome. And do ring me if you need anything else.’ She paused, ‘Or if you discover anything that you think I should know about.’

  ‘I will, thank you.’ Joseph turned to leave.

  ‘Oh, and good luck working with DI Galena, Sergeant Easter.’ There was a slight chill to the words.

  As Joseph approached the reception desk, he wondered what the history was between Helen Latimer and his boss, because the undercurrent was practically pulling his feet from under him.

  Half an hour later, Joseph left, with a large sheaf of notes in a thick brown envelope under his arm. He was sure it would mean very little to him, but it would certainly be of great use to the pathologist.

  As he climbed into the driving seat and did up his safety belt, he was suddenly shocked by a vivid flashback to the face in the windscreen. Just for a second, it was there again. Rough, coarse skinned, uneven teeth, ice-blue eyes and unwashed, dull blond hair. My God, it was so like him, it was scary.

  Joseph shook his head free of the unwanted vision, and jammed his key into the ignition. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was obviously still a bit shaky. The hospital had said it would take time, so maybe he was not quite as fit as he had first thought. Or maybe it was just first-day nerves. A friend of your boss, turning up dead on your debut morning was not exactly what you would choose.

  With a sigh, he drove away, with even more questions swirling around in his head, than when he arrived.

  CHAPTER SIX

  As evening settled over the fen, lights came on in the scattered assortment of houses and cottages. Nikki looked from her upstairs window, across the shadowy marsh lanes and fields, and felt a deep sadness that Knot Cottage remained in darkness.

  She sat down heavily on her bed and wondered about the super’s words. Maybe you really didn’t know the people around you, even the ones you felt quite close to. She had known Martin for some fifteen years, and had never had an inkling about his illness.

  She let out a long, audible sigh. Everyone had secrets. There were certainly things about her that Martin would never have known. In fact, there were things about her that only a very small handful of people knew.

  And then there was Joseph. His past was a closed door. A locked room. Bolted and secured as tightly as a Bank of England vault.

  She stood up and went downstairs. She needed a drink.

  The kitchen still had a faint smell of paint, not unpleasant, just fresh and clean. She had been surprised how well the old place had scrubbed up, and even although today’s dreadful events had placed a heavy blanket of melancholy over everything, she was still glad to be back home on Cloud Fen. And she was glad that Joseph had decided to join the team.

  She splashed wine into a glass, sipped it slowly, then placing the glass on the old scrubbed pine table, the one she had sat at to eat her eggy soldiers as a small girl, she thought about Joseph. Maybe she should have spared him the grim task of suicide statistics on his first day. He had seemed really subdued when he returned from his trip to see Helen Latimer. Nikki gave a little snort. But then who wouldn’t? Dear Helen could be a caustic cow sometimes.

  She took another sip of the Merlot and tried to decide what to eat. Food was never high on her list of priorities, and it was ten to one that it would be yet another omelette. Unlike Martin. He had always prepared and cooked delicious meals for himself. She saw again the pot simmering on the old stove. She had looked in it, and noted the fresh vegetables and thick meaty stock. Martin took great care of his diet. Something she rarely seemed to find time for.

  Taking eggs from a chicken-shaped pottery container, she broke three into a glass bowl, added salt, pepper, a few herbs and a splash of milk, then whisked it together thoughtfully. Helen Latimer might be a bitch, but she would surely have been as charmed as every other woman in the county by Joseph Easter’s sexy good looks. Surely even Helen wouldn’t have upset him on first meeting. So why did he seem so distracted, so troubled? She should have asked him, but he seemed keen to get away, and she couldn’t blame him. It had been a pretty depressing day, all in all.

  Nikki removed a fork from the cutlery drawer, then served up her meagre supper on one of her mother’s best plates. There was something enormously reassuring about having familiar old things about her again. Her rented flat in Greenborough had been basic, minimalist, Spartan. She smiled to herself. Who was she kidding? Depressingly austere was closer to the truth. Still smiling ruefully, she switched on the radio and tuned it in to Radio 4 Extra. She badly needed something to lift her spirits, and a hammy old wireless show mig
ht do the trick.

  She ate the eggs, and half-heartedly began to listen to a classic episode of Hancock, but after a while she switched it off. It seemed somehow disrespectful, knowing what had happened earlier that day, and as she washed up, she found herself hoping that Joseph had not returned to work too soon.

  The tinkling sound of a windchime from the floor above, distracted her from her worrying thoughts. She glanced at the clock. The tide had turned, and was bringing in a strong blow off the sea. She had better go up and latch the windows, just in case there was a summer squall.

  In her bedroom, she paused to once again look in the direction of Martin’s place — and found herself rooted to the spot.

  A tiny point of light was moving around inside Knot Cottage.

  Nikki blinked a few times and refocussed her eyes. There was no doubt, someone was in Martin’s cottage, and whoever it was had no sodding right to be there!

  With a muffled curse, Nikki raced down the stairs, grabbed a flashlight and her mobile phone and raced from the farmhouse.

  There was no way she could take the car, whoever was there would hear her coming and leg it. She had no choice but to go on foot and she covered the quarter of a mile in record time.

  At the gate she sunk down for a moment into the deep shadows and caught her breath. Keeping perfectly still, she watched the darkened cottage carefully. Whoever was in there might not be alone. Her ears strained to make out sounds, but there was little other than the whisper of the wind across the marsh and the eerie call of a night owl.

  With great care, she crept towards the side of the cottage, and made her way round to the back door. It was open just a crack. No doubt to facilitate a speedy exit if required.

  Rustling sounds were coming from inside. As if someone were leafing swiftly through a newspaper, trying to find a particular article. Nikki stood behind the door, and tried to see exactly where the intruder was.

  He was still in the sitting room, so whatever he was looking for was obviously proving more difficult to find than he had expected. She stared in, but could only make out a black shape behind the fine light point of the torch, and he was hunched over Martin’s dining table.

  Nikki tried to think. It seemed to her that she had two choices. Rush in and challenge him, or keep low and follow him when he came out. Sadly, although following him could mean catching whoever it was red-handed, it could also mean she could lose him completely, especially if he had a vehicle concealed nearby.

  Which left little choice. Nikki swung a hefty kick at the door, reached inside and with a loud shout, flicked on the light switch.

  It had been a pretty good idea, and it would have worked, if the intruder had not tripped the fuses on the electric meter when he broke in.

  By the time she realised what had happened and switched on her flashlight, the man was upon her.

  Nikki fought back. She had never backed off from a fight and rarely came off second best in a tussle, but circumstances were not in her favour. Her assailant caught her a crushing blow in the ribs, one that totally winded her, and by the time she had regained her breath, he was gone. She staggered out after him, but heard the sound of a powerful motorcycle engine roar into the night, and realised that there would be no chasing him.

  Cursing and swearing her way to the meter, Nikki flipped up the switches, and squinted as the light came on.

  ‘Shit! Shit!’ she shouted out loud.

  The sitting room was wrecked. Martin’s precious belongings lay broken and shattered in untidy piles across the carpet.

  She looked around in both dismay and anger, and found herself fighting back tears. ‘I just hope you never found whatever it was you were after, you bastard scumbag!’ She tried to wipe the salty water from her cheeks with the sleeve of her blouse. ‘Bastard!’

  Still cursing, Nikki pulled her mobile from her pocket, breathed a sigh of relief that it was still working, and quickly punched the speed dial number for the police station.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The main car park of the Greenborough Fitness Club and pool was deserted. Joseph parked close to the door and pulled his gym bag from the seat beside him. He had taken to getting there just before six thirty when the club opened. He liked the calm of the place in the early morning, and plunging into an empty pool had a decadence that he secretly enjoyed. He’d always tried to find time for a swim, mainly early like this to prep him for the day ahead, but sometimes he’d go in the evening, to wash away the stresses of a gruelling shift. Greenborough club had quite limited facilities but as he was somewhat limited himself, that suited him perfectly.

  He cruised steadily up and down in the warm water and tried to forget that he’d had a sincerely crap night. His sleep had been interrupted by disturbing dreams that had left him feeling uneasy and edgy. Martin Durham’s peculiar death had not helped, and neither had that weird incident with the man in the High Road.

  He switched from breast-stroke to crawl, and tried to concentrate entirely on his breathing. It didn’t work, so he flipped over, stared at the ceiling to keep in lane, and propelled himself backwards for a few lengths. Part of him wanted to see that jaywalker again, to see him properly, note the differences, then laugh at himself for being such a prat. And another part of him was loathe to meet the doppelgänger of such a brute of a man.

  Joseph turned in the water and ducked under. The rushing in his ears whisked away the unwanted thoughts, and holding his breath, he swam underwater until he touched the wall.

  He had another fifteen minutes before he had to hit the shower room. He hauled himself out of the pool, rinsed himself off under one of the poolside showers, and walked along the wet tiled floor to the steam room.

  A thick steamy cloud made it impossible to see if he were alone in the small room, but a movement on the top seating ledge told him he wasn’t.

  ‘Mind if I join you?’ he asked his unseen companion.

  ‘Be my guest. I’m practically expiring! I’m sure they rent this out at night to a lobster boiling company!’ A tall figure leaned forward, then slipped down to the lower ledge.

  A tiny shiver rippled through him, as her leg lightly brushed his shoulder as climbed down.

  ‘I swear they’ve turned the temperature up this morning.’

  Noting it was the woman from the car park, Joseph silently agreed that it was becoming extremely hot indeed in the tiny enclosed space.

  ‘Bryony.’ The woman held out a well-manicured hand. ‘I’ve seen you here before.’

  He took her hand, and was surprised by the firmness of her grip. ‘Joseph. Pleased to meet you.’

  The woman stood up. ‘Sorry, Joseph, I hate to be rude, but I’ve got a busy morning lined up. See you again, no doubt?’

  Joseph flashed her his brightest smile. ‘I hope so.’

  After the glass door had closed, he let out a long, low whistle. He really would need a cold shower today, and the steam had nothing to do with it.

  * * *

  ‘Well, you look a damn sight happier than you did when you left last night,’ murmured Nikki as he entered her office.

  Joseph raised his eyebrows. ‘And you look like you’ve had a run in with the riot squad!’ He stared at the purple shadow that was staining one cheekbone, and did not miss the fact that she was protecting her rib cage. ‘What happened, ma’am?’

  She stood up and winced. ‘Come with me to the super’s office. He wants the gruesome details too and I don’t know if I have the energy to say it all twice.’

  He walked beside her along the corridor to the lifts.

  ‘Some bastard broke into Martin’s cottage last night.’ Her voice was low, and full of contempt.

  ‘You’re joking!’

  ‘Do I look like I’m joking, Sergeant?’ she growled.

  ‘Sorry. It was only an expression of incredulity. I wasn’t questioning you.’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I’ll live.’ She pressed the button for the lift. ‘But I cannot
tell you how much I’d like to meet that intruder again.’

  ‘Preferably in the custody suite.’

  ‘I’m not too worried where it is, Sergeant. I just want the opportunity to even the score.’

  Joseph couldn’t ignore the dark shade of the old Nikki Galena in those words, but chose to hold his tongue.

  The lift sighed to a halt, and they made their way to Rick Bainbridge’s office where Nikki filled them in on what had occurred.

  ‘Sounds like an opportunist to me,’ speculated the super. ‘Bad news travels fast. Maybe someone got to hear of Durham’s death, knew the place would be empty and ransacked it.’

  ‘Sorry, sir, but whoever that was, was looking for something specific.’

  ‘And what the devil would that be?’

  ‘Initially, a key, sir.’ Nikki bit the inside of her cheek. ‘Joseph and I looked for it earlier, only we replaced the vases and the ornaments that we searched, we didn’t smash them to pieces.’

  ‘A key to what?’ asked the super.

  ‘Martin’s desk. It was locked when we were there.’ Her expression hardened. ‘It’s matchwood now.’

  The super’s brow knitted into a wrinkled frown. ‘But what was he looking for?’

  Nikki shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea.’

  ‘Whatever it was, it was very important to him,’ added Joseph. ‘After all, you called out that you were the police, and he still thought it was worth knocking seven bales out of you.’

  ‘Thank you for reminding me of that, Sergeant,’ said Nikki nursing her side. ‘And another thing, it wasn’t a lucky wallop either. The intruder knew exactly where to hit me to incapacitate me.’

  ‘So what are you saying, Nikki? That Durham was involved in something dodgy?’

  ‘I don’t know what the hell I’m saying!’ Her face was a mask of confusion. ‘I just know that a kind and generous man, someone I thought I knew, has committed a terrible act, and I have the horrible feeling that nothing is quite as it seems at Knot Cottage.’