Read Online The Unquiet Grave by Steven Dunne - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Steven Dunne
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man. We would ask the people of Derby, particularly in the Normanton area, to rack their brains about last Friday evening.
‘Even if you don’t remember seeing this young man walking the streets that night, maybe you saw something else, something that might have struck you as odd but, at the time, you dismissed it. We’re particularly interested in the hours between eight p.m., when Scott was last seen, and midnight. Did you see something that may have seemed trivial but which could yet have a bearing on the case? Maybe you spotted a car that you haven’t seen before; perhaps you saw a stranger in the neighbourhood, or even someone you know, behaving in a suspicious manner.
‘Did such a person catch your eye? If you can think of anything, no matter how unimportant it might seem, please contact us immediately. All information will be treated in the strictest confidence and it’s imperative. . .’
‘. . . that I get myself on the TV and radio a lot more.’ Brook depressed the button to silence his superior.
‘Four days missing.’ Brook didn’t need to look at the statistics to know the Wheeler boy was almost certainly dead. He knew nothing about the case except what he’d heard from the local media. And DI Frank Ford was in charge, a fact which didn’t fill Brook with confidence. As a result, and despite misgivings about resuming his career, Brook had even emailed Charlton to ask if he wanted him to return to duty early to help the investigation. The Chief Superintendent hadn’t seen fit to respond.
‘At least Noble’s on the case,’ said Brook, surprised and a little miffed his DS hadn’t been in contact for advice about the missing boy.
Glancing up at the building, Brook allowed his eyes to wander to the third floor and the window of the office he’d shared with Noble. A light was on. The churn of police work never ceased.
He peered across to the well-lit entrance of D Division, trying and failing to see who was on the reception desk, pondering whether to make a dash for the sanctuary of his office while the station seemed quiet and the sun was still no more than a suggestion in the east.
More chance of avoiding Sergeant Hendrickson and his ilk if I go now .
In the end, Brook made no move to get out of the car. He poured more tea and flexed his damaged hand, almost good as new, the evidence of skin graft invisible to the eye, and only a slight tingling to remind him it had ever been injured. His head wounds had healed even earlier and only Brook knew about the scar and slight bump under his hairline.
As he drained his tea, Brook caught sight of headlights in his mirrors. A second later, a squad car drove under the barrier, followed by a civilian vehicle and another squad car bringing up the rear of the convoy.
Brook watched. Criminals tended to be night owls; they liked a lie-in after a long night’s lawbreaking which meant arrests were simpler in the early hours. He craned his neck to watch the vehicles drawing to a halt at the front steps and passengers begin to disgorge. The two police vehicles were full and contained eight officers in total. Their car doors opened and closed quickly as the officers jumped out to wait for the civilian car to empty. Three of the officers were CID, Noble amongst them. Brook also recognised DS Rob Morton and DC Dave Cooper, who opened the doors of the civilian car. A slightly built woman stepped from the passenger side and the male driver met her in front of the car and tentatively linked his arm with hers before all ten jogged up the steps to the glass vestibule that was reception and disappeared from sight.
No handcuffs. No separation of the couple. This wasn’t an arrest. They were ‘helping with inquiries’. Brook’s eyes narrowed. He’d seen the man before but couldn’t place him. He stepped from the car and walked with flask and laptop towards the smoked-glass doors. Once inside the glass entrance hall, Brook fixed his eyes to the floor and marched
‘Even if you don’t remember seeing this young man walking the streets that night, maybe you saw something else, something that might have struck you as odd but, at the time, you dismissed it. We’re particularly interested in the hours between eight p.m., when Scott was last seen, and midnight. Did you see something that may have seemed trivial but which could yet have a bearing on the case? Maybe you spotted a car that you haven’t seen before; perhaps you saw a stranger in the neighbourhood, or even someone you know, behaving in a suspicious manner.
‘Did such a person catch your eye? If you can think of anything, no matter how unimportant it might seem, please contact us immediately. All information will be treated in the strictest confidence and it’s imperative. . .’
‘. . . that I get myself on the TV and radio a lot more.’ Brook depressed the button to silence his superior.
‘Four days missing.’ Brook didn’t need to look at the statistics to know the Wheeler boy was almost certainly dead. He knew nothing about the case except what he’d heard from the local media. And DI Frank Ford was in charge, a fact which didn’t fill Brook with confidence. As a result, and despite misgivings about resuming his career, Brook had even emailed Charlton to ask if he wanted him to return to duty early to help the investigation. The Chief Superintendent hadn’t seen fit to respond.
‘At least Noble’s on the case,’ said Brook, surprised and a little miffed his DS hadn’t been in contact for advice about the missing boy.
Glancing up at the building, Brook allowed his eyes to wander to the third floor and the window of the office he’d shared with Noble. A light was on. The churn of police work never ceased.
He peered across to the well-lit entrance of D Division, trying and failing to see who was on the reception desk, pondering whether to make a dash for the sanctuary of his office while the station seemed quiet and the sun was still no more than a suggestion in the east.
More chance of avoiding Sergeant Hendrickson and his ilk if I go now .
In the end, Brook made no move to get out of the car. He poured more tea and flexed his damaged hand, almost good as new, the evidence of skin graft invisible to the eye, and only a slight tingling to remind him it had ever been injured. His head wounds had healed even earlier and only Brook knew about the scar and slight bump under his hairline.
As he drained his tea, Brook caught sight of headlights in his mirrors. A second later, a squad car drove under the barrier, followed by a civilian vehicle and another squad car bringing up the rear of the convoy.
Brook watched. Criminals tended to be night owls; they liked a lie-in after a long night’s lawbreaking which meant arrests were simpler in the early hours. He craned his neck to watch the vehicles drawing to a halt at the front steps and passengers begin to disgorge. The two police vehicles were full and contained eight officers in total. Their car doors opened and closed quickly as the officers jumped out to wait for the civilian car to empty. Three of the officers were CID, Noble amongst them. Brook also recognised DS Rob Morton and DC Dave Cooper, who opened the doors of the civilian car. A slightly built woman stepped from the passenger side and the male driver met her in front of the car and tentatively linked his arm with hers before all ten jogged up the steps to the glass vestibule that was reception and disappeared from sight.
No handcuffs. No separation of the couple. This wasn’t an arrest. They were ‘helping with inquiries’. Brook’s eyes narrowed. He’d seen the man before but couldn’t place him. He stepped from the car and walked with flask and laptop towards the smoked-glass doors. Once inside the glass entrance hall, Brook fixed his eyes to the floor and marched
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