Merciless: a gripping detective thriller (DI Kate Fletcher Book 2)
Merciless
Heleyne Hammersley
Contents
Also by Heleyne Hammersley
JANUARY
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
NOVEMBER
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
JANUARY
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
NOVEMBER
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
JANUARY
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
DECEMBER
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
JANUARY
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
JANUARY
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Find Jeanette
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Reunited After Death
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
A Note from Bloodhound Books:
Forgotten
Fracture
Closer To Home
Acknowledgments
Copyright © 2018 Heleyne Hammersley
The right of Heleyne Hammersley to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her * in accordance Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published in 2018 by Bloodhound Books
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publisher or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
www.bloodhoundbooks.com
Praise for Heleyne Hammersley
"If you like your police procedurals full of drama, gasps and OMGs then this one is for you!" Sharon Bairden - Chapter In My Life
"The pace of the book is spot on for the content and it works so well with the story as it ramps up towards the end as the story starts to get to its completion adding to the tension." Donna Maguire - Donnas Book Blog
"This is a well thought out plot and the tension builds throughout the book right up until the final reveal." Marion - Goodreads
"A good read that will keep you guessing until the end." Nicki Southwell - Goodreads
"A fast paced thriller. A road trip with a difference. Very good story and definitely an author to look out for!" Theresa - Goodreads
"I highly recommend this author to anyone who enjoys a gripping thriller. I sincerely hope there is at lot more to come ( and soon ) from Ms Hammersley." Graeme - Amazon Reviewer
"Gripping to the last and, again, unputdownable." SueC - Amazon Reviewer
Also by Heleyne Hammersley
Fracture
Forgotten
Closer To Home
For my cousin, Jan Wager
JANUARY
1
The sun was just turning the skyline pink as Sam Cooper wheezed her way along the canal path. Her breath plumed around her head in clouds of steam which drifted lazily away on the faint breeze. The path’s surface was gravel and unaffected by the frost which coated the bushes and trees, allowing Sam safe passage as she crunched towards the lights around the lock, her usual turning point where she could switch off her head torch and return in the dawn light. She was trying to clear her brain before work; trying to block out the memory of raised voices and regretful tears.
She hadn’t wanted to fight. Abbie had come home in a foul mood and had been determined to squabble about anything and everything until the row found a well-worn groove, and Sam had almost been tempted to tune out. Why did she have to live on a fucking boat? In the summer, Abbie had loved the open hatches and the regular swell of the water as other narrowboats passed by leaving cheery waves and hellos in their wake. But this was her first winter on the canal and she was starting to loathe it. Sam knew that the confined space wasn’t for everyone. That having to empty the chemical toilet on a frosty morning was a chore, and that hearing the groan of ice around the hull as the canal froze could be eerie, but she had been convinced that Abbie would love the romance and cosiness of it after the first few cold weeks.
Sam had been so wrong. Now it looked like she was going to have to make a choice. Give up the narrowboat that had been her home since her grandfather had left it to her in his will, or give up Abbie.
She jogged on, trying to focus on her breathing and the steady crunch of gravel under her trainers. She didn’t use her MP3 player when she ran. She’d have enjoyed the rhythm of music chosen to suit her mood or her pace but, as a detective with South Yorkshire Police, she knew the perils of not being aware of your surroundings, especially in lonely places in poor light. She always ran with her phone in her hand – just in case.
The white-topped lock gates were up ahead and Sam slowed down, about to head home for a shower. She normally ran right up to the second gate before turning back but, this morning, she was tempted to stop short and go back. It might allow her a few more minutes to try to smooth things over with Abbie.
‘Fuck it,’ Sam murmured and picked up her pace, trying to outrun her frustration.
The lock was full; the bottom gate closed allowing the water to build up against it. In the half-light it was like obsidian, its smooth surface broken by an unexpected shape. Sam slowed down and walked to the edge of the lock, trying to work out if it was a trick of the light or if somebody had thrown something into the water.
It looked like a black bin bag, bobbing gently, half-submerged but, as her eyes adjusted to the gloomy darkness of the enclosed water, she could make out more detail. The surface of the object was ribbed or rippled and it appeared to have a lot of air trapped inside. There was something floating next to it. A pale shape against the dark water.
‘Shit,’ Sam hissed as she recognised a hand. It wasn’t a bin bag, it was a down jacket. And it was still being worn.
Two seconds later, she was giving her location to the emergency services.
‘So you found the body?’ Detective Inspector Kate Fletcher asked her colleague. Sam nodded, trying to control the shivering that wracked her limbs.
‘I saw her floating there and called it in.’
‘And you just happened to be passing?’ Kate heard the slight scepticism in her tone, the one she used for anybody who had just found a body; understanding with an underlying hint of suspicion. But this was one of her team. She took a breath and tried again.
‘What were you doing down here, Sam? It must have been barely light.’
Sam wrapped her arms more tightly round her upper body. She looked tired and shaken. Her short blonde hair stuck up around her temples like she’d been running her hands through it, and her blue eyes skittered around as she spoke. Kate was used to her being quiet and calm and in control but the slim, hoodie-clad figure in front of her looked more like a junkie in need of a fix than a valued colleague.
‘I was running. I run most mornings,’ Sam said.
‘Here?’
‘I’ve got a boat in the Ings Marina. It’s where I live. I like to run the towpath because it’s level. Not much of a challenge.’
She gave a self-deprecating grin and, in the familiar expression, Kate recognised the DC that she knew. Her colleague wasn’t under suspicion and Kate needed to stop treating her as though she was. She was cold and probably in shock.
‘Get yourself over to the ambulance.’ Kate pointed to the waiting vehicle, parked behind a hedge on the closest access road to the canal towpath. ‘They’ll have blankets. Get warm. I’ll send Hollis on a coffee run while we wait for the dive team to finish. Plenty of sugar?’
Sam smiled gratefully and followed Kate’s instructions.
A shout from the lock caught Kate’s attention before she could follow through on her promise of hot drinks, and she looked across to the huge black-and-white gates. The divers had finished and were ready to remove the body from the water. She watched as they gently guided the covered body tray to the canal’s edge where an overall-clad team was waiting to haul it up into the tent that they had erected across the path – a Viking funeral in reverse. Behind the tent, Kate could see blue-and-white tape preventing access from the south, just beyond the point where a footpath intersected with the towpath. Similar tape prevented her from accessing the lock unless she donned appropriate clothing and showed her ID. Kate estimated that nearly a quarter of a mile of towpath was cordoned off – they weren’t sure yet whether this was a crime scene but she knew that the SOCOs would make certain that, if it were, they kept it as secure as possible.
DC Hollis came shuffling towards her in his SOCO suit and shoe covers. He looked frozen. His slender frame and long limbs made him look like the world’s biggest toddler in a badly fitting romper suit.
‘Anything?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘Body’s female. Fully dressed. No obvious sign of injury. The divers are having a quick break and then they’ll get back in to search the lock. Kailisa’s here and he’s not happy.’
Kate smiled. The pathologist was renowned for his attention to detail and his empathy with the victim, but his people skills were sometimes a bit lacking. She knew that he’d do a thorough job despite the conditions, but also that he’d resent any unnecessary interruption from her or her team.
‘Do you want to get warmed up?’ she asked Hollis. ‘There’s supposed to be a support van around somewhere with hot drinks. Sam could use one. She’s at the ambulance.’
‘She okay?’ Hollis asked, struggling to unzip his overalls and pull his suit-clad arms free. ‘Can’t be much fun finding something like this before breakfast.’
‘She’s doing fine,’ Kate said. ‘Did you know she lived down here? On a boat?’
Hollis shrugged. ‘I think she mentioned it. She’s not one for sharing details of her life, though. I’ll go and get that drink.’
Kate watched as he finally removed his overalls, deposited his shoe covers in a waiting bin for later examination and ducked under the tape. She’d wanted to be the one closest to the action, to see the body lifted from the water but she’d also wanted a chance to talk to Cooper. Unable to be in two places at once, Kate had allowed Hollis to assess the scene, to be her eyes and ears. He needed the experience and, after the events of the summer, she had learned to trust him completely. Since her return to South Yorkshire from Cumbria just over a year earlier, she’d managed to build up a reliable team around her, and Hollis was a key part of that. He was a steadying influence on the others, good in a crisis and an empathetic and skilled interviewer.
A figure jogged towards her along the canal bank.
‘We’ve found something that you might like to see, inspector.’ The crime scene tech bent over to catch his breath as he waited for Kate to suit up and follow him across to the lock. The large black-and-white gates were both closed, the long wooden beams that they were attached to jutting out almost as far as the towpath. Beside these swing beams were mooring points, chunky mushrooms of metal, also painted black and white. She’d noticed that there had been some scrutiny of the area near the top lock gate, and glanced down to see what was so significant. Plastic markers surrounded a set of scuff marks in the gravel, frozen in place by the hard frost of the previous night. There was a long scrape, right down to the hard earth surface of the path, and a patch where the gravel was piled up near the edge of the lock.
‘What am I looking at?’ she asked.
The man bent down and pointed a gloved finger at the longer groove.
‘Looks like somebody might have been pushed. There are indications that more than one person stood here and the patterns and disturbances in the gravel may suggest a struggle.’
‘May? Is that the best we’ve got?’
The man shrugged. ‘It’s enough to put a question mark above any suggestion that it was an accident. But it’s not much. Doctor Kailisa’s with the body if you want to speak to him.’
Kate walked along the path to the tent, safe in the knowledge that she’d been invited. Inside, Kailisa and his team were taking photographs and measurements. The woman’s body was still on the buoyancy tray and still clothed. Icy water dripped from the down jacket forming a puddle on the plastic sheeting beneath her. Her hair was long and dark and obscured much of her face but Kate could just make out a smudge of bright lipstick and a carefully tended eyebrow. Her legs were clad in tight leggings and she wore one ankle-high leather boot. The other foot was encased in a soggy pink sock reminding Kate of a sausage on a cheap fry-up.
‘DI Fletcher,’ Kailisa said without looking up at her. ‘I suppose you want to know manner and time of death.’
‘I know better than that, doctor,’ Kate responded with a grin that he couldn’t see. She’d worked with the pathologist from the Doncaster Royal Infirmary before and knew that he wouldn’t commit to anything until he’d performed a thorough examination and that he was above speculation. ‘I was just wondering if there was anything that could be seen even by a lay-person.’
He shook his head.
‘There may be a head injury, the back of her skull feels like it might be fractured, but until I get a proper look I know nothing. We haven’t even found any identification.’
Great, Kate thought. An unidentified body and an unknown cause of death. ‘I assume that my team will be kept informed.’
Kailisa turned to look at her, his dark brown eyes serious. ‘If this is anything more than an accident you will be the first to know.’
Kate removed her protective clothing, ducked under the tape barrier and went to check on Cooper and Hollis. They were huddled together on the back step of the ambulance, hands wrapped around cardboard cups of steaming drinks.
‘You okay?’ Kate asked Cooper.
The DC smiled weakly and took a long pull on her coffee. Kate looked at Hollis for confirmation and he shrugged slightly.
‘Would you mind getting me a coffee?’ she asked him. ‘It’s bloody freezing on that canal bank.’ His eyebrows dipped into a frown of annoyance until he clearly realised that she wanted a chance to talk to Sam on her own. He leapt up tugging a forelock and headed in the direction of the support van.
‘Must’ve been a shock to–’ she began but Cooper cut her off.
‘It’s not my first body, you know,’ she snapped. ‘Just wrong place, wrong time.’
‘I know,’ said Kate. ‘But it’s still not what you expect to find on your early morning run. So close to your home, as well. I had no idea you lived on the water. Must be peaceful.’
Sam gave her a wry smile which seemed to suggest that Kate had no idea what her life there was really like. ‘Do they know who she was?’ Sam asked, changing the subject before her boss could ask anything else about her personal life.
‘Not yet. I might have to ask you to have a look. It could be somebody you recognise from the local area. Perhaps another boat owner. Kailisa needs to do a full PM so maybe he’ll find some ID in one of her pockets.’
‘Unlikely,’ Sam said. �
��Most women carry stuff like that in a handbag rather than in their pockets.’
‘The divers are still looking in the lock. They might find something.’
Cooper shook her head. ‘My guess is a mugging. That’s why there’s no bag. Some scroat tried to get it off her, and when she clung on, he swung her into the water.’
Kate thought about the scuffmarks at the edge of the lock. Had there been a struggle? The scenario made perfect sense. How often had she done safety training where women were told to let go of their bags and give up their belongings rather than risk their lives? But how many really listened when faced with losing their valuables?
Just as Kate was about to commend Cooper on her insight, her phone rang. She responded with a questioning hello even though her display clearly showed her that it was Raymond, her DCI, ringing. Force of habit.
‘Fletcher. You still down by the canal?’
‘Yep. Just about to finish up. Not sure that this is one for us, but Cooper has an interesting theory. She–’