SEVEN DEADLY THINGS (Henry & Sparrow Book 3) by A FOX (best value ebook reader TXT) 📗

There’s a dead woman in this chalet and she didn’t die of natural causes - or by her own hand.’

Mike’s jaw dropped and he instinctively rested his hand on his radio. ‘Before we speak further,’ Kate went on. ‘I think we need to get my friends to go back to their chalets. I really can’t chance them getting overwrought and running in here. She was a friend, you see? And we don’t want to attract too much attention if we can help it.’

He nodded and radioed for a couple of other staff, usually only required to handle the Sleep Tight patrol, while Kate tried to persuade Talia to take Nikki, Bill and Craig back to her chalet and keep them all together. She did not want Craig to go into his own chalet, just next door, and overhear the crime scene investigation.

They all resisted, as she had expected them to, desperate to know what had happened to Julie. Then Francis surprised her by stepping over to them and saying: ‘Kate’s got to do this, OK? She’s a police officer. It’s her duty to secure the scene.’ He looked at Talia, his young face serious. ‘I think she’s depending on you.’

‘OK,’ sniffed Talia, pulling Nikki, weeping, up from the grass. ‘All of you,’ she said, hanging on to Nikki and looking around at Bill and Craig. ‘Come back to mine. Right now. Kate will come and see us and let us know everything as soon as she can… right Kate?’

Kate nodded at her friend gratefully. ‘I promise,’ she said. They walked away, supporting each other, slumped and shocked. Kate turned to Mike. ‘I think you need to call Gary over too,’ she suggested.

‘I need to see what’s in there first,’ he stated, ‘before I go waking the boss.’

Kate weighed this up. She was quite capable of keeping him out and it was her first instinct to do just that - but this was his patch and she wasn’t on duty. Also, she would prefer to keep him on her side while she waited for backup.

‘OK, you can take a quick look,’ she said, pulling the sliding door along. ‘But you cannot touch anything, OK? You know the deal?’

‘I know the deal,’ he said, raising his hand in an authoritative wave as two of his staff arrived on the scene, heading down the grassy walkway. ‘Hold on there, Stu, Janine,’ he said in a quiet, measured tone. ‘We’ve got a situation.’

His staff did as they were told, glancing at each other with excited fascination. Kate guessed the Sleep Tight patrol didn’t usually get much action beyond asking drunken punters to keep it down a bit.

She went back into the room, almost gagging at the smell of lard, which seemed even heavier now than the first time she’d inhaled it. Mike followed and gave a good impression of a man just about holding it together.

‘Shit,’ he said, gulping. ‘What the hell is that in her mouth?’

‘I think it’s lard — or fat of some kind,’ she said. She felt suddenly very tired and sad. What a way to end your days… alone in a cheap holiday camp chalet, filled up with stinking grease, like a foie gras goose.

Outside she heard Gary’s voice, talking to the Sleep Tight crew in hushed, stressed tones. Word had obviously already reached him. ’Come on,’ she said to Mike. ‘We need to go and break it gently to him.’

She was glad to have the backup when they stepped outside. She really could not allow Gary inside the chalet — two of them possibly contaminating a crime scene was bad enough — and it was going to be difficult to persuade him of that. Mike could at least verify what she was telling him.

‘I just met Talia and the others,’ said Gary, his features strained with disbelief in the dim light. ‘I can’t take in what they just told me.’

‘I’m sorry, Gary,’ said Kate. ‘It’s true. The local police are on the way.’

‘I want to see her,’ said Gary, in a strangled voice.

She grabbed his arm before he could move closer to the chalet, and then pulled him into a hug. ‘You can’t go in there, Gary. It’s a crime scene. You need to try to take a few deep breaths… maybe sit down on the grass.’ She was painfully aware that the chalets around them were full of families, mostly asleep. She knew the double glazing was pretty soundproof, but it was a warm night and windows would be open.

Gary sank onto the grass, shaking his head. ‘First Martin… now Julie… what the hell is going on here?’

‘We don’t know,’ said Kate, kneeling down next to him. ‘We’ll find out more when the police arrive. Gary — when did you last see Julie?’

He sniffed and rubbed his face. ‘I didn’t see her. I was hoping to catch her in reception, like the rest of you, but she came through when I was dealing with an urgent staffing issue and I missed her.’ He blinked and shook his head. Then realisation dawned over his features and he stared up at her, his jaw dropping. ‘What… wait a minute. Are you asking me this because—’

‘Gary, I’m not asking you anything,’ said Kate, hurriedly. ‘I am not on duty — I’m just a friend. But the local coppers are going to ask you the same thing because they ask everyone that, OK? Don’t take it the wrong way.’

She was deeply relieved to pick up the distinctive static of a police radio. The local guys were here, and she would be so, so glad to hand over to them. No copper should have to guard a crime scene with their own friend lying dead in it.

Two uniforms and a plain clothes arrived. The detective was a severe-looking middle-aged woman with scraped back hair and a grey suit. ‘DS Stuart,’ she said. ‘Suffolk Constabulary. I assume you’re DI Sparrow?’ She gave Kate a hard stare. ‘DI Sparrow, I was surprised to hear you’d