Invisible Grave

By Stefanina Hill

Sergeant Daniel Brett starts his first day with Chesterford CID fired up with ambition to get a permanent position. Brett is concerned that the case he has been assigned to is impossible to solve even though a strong suspect has been identified. More worrying still to the young Sergeant is the strange behaviour of his superior, DI Lock, who displays a mixture of logical brilliance and unorthodox eccentricity.

Brett and Lock interview the suspect, James Richardson, a businessman suspected of killing for financial gain. Richardson is quick to point out that without the body of the missing man there is no proof he is even dead. Richardson gloats over the absence of evidence and Lock warns him that one day he may meet his intellectual superior and face his downfall as a result.

Brett is impressed by Lock’s sharp mind and his determination to solve the case as their investigation progresses. When the truth begins to surface about the disappearance the danger which overtook the missing man overshadows Lock and Brett realises he may have under estimated just how far the DI will go to crack the case and catch a killer.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stefanina Hill
• Release date: Jul 6, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311412577

Stefanina Hill

Hi there, until I get around to filling this profile out with a fuller bio you can head to my website and twitter for some more info. Love to all, Stef.

Book preview

Detective Inspector Lock

Case One: Invisible Grave

Detective Inspector Edward Lock looked at the ostentatious gold door bell of the large, imposing house in front of him and stuck his hands firmly into the deep pockets of his black rain coat. At Lock’s elbow Sergeant Daniel Brett peered through the windows of the house and then turned back to his DI.

I just don’t get it, Sir, if everyone is so sure that James Richardson murdered his business partner then why is he in this fancy house and not banged up?

Rather than give the young man an answer DI Lock closed his eyes and tipped his head back, inclining his bloodless white face to the afternoon sunshine. After a few moments of silence Brett leaned forward and jabbed the doorbell with his thumb. A shrill buzz emanated from within the walls of the house and but no one came to answer.

Not to mention, Brett continued, "if the original investigation team of twenty-six officers couldn’t crack this case how are we supposed to get anywhere? I know you’re supposed to be brilliant, Sir, but the man hours they’ve already shelled out on this case is legendary."

It seems very sad to me, Lock murmured.

Sir?

People flee cities for towns and villages to barricade themselves out of the world. Little do they know they’ve sealed themselves in with the same beast they were running from. At least in the big, bad city light and darkness mix, out here in the countryside the one can exist independent of the other.

Brett looked at Lock in dismay. This was his first day on CID and his first ever meeting with the newly appointed DI Lock. If Brett could get a permanent place in CID he and Lock would be working together all the time. That prospect suddenly had him very worried. As Brett reached out to ring the doorbell again the front door opened a few inches and a deeply lined, middle-aged face appeared in the gap, Mr. James Richardson? Brett asked.

Oh God, said the man, swinging the door fully open, it’s the Chesterford plod squad.

James Richardson may have been a man trying to cast off the shadows of suspicion in a criminal investigation but the air of smug superiority about him was palpable. His thin lipped mouth twitched with amusement as Brett displayed his warrant card. This amusement visibly increased when Richardson looked over at the figure of Edward Lock, still with his eyes closed and his head tilted up to the sky.

So you’re Detective Inspector Lock? Richardson barked, the latest copper earning his brass by whiling away an afternoon at my house. As if I had nothing else to do but play host to an endless trudge of uninvited guests.

Lock opened his eyes and looked Richardson up and down, "perhaps you feel harassed, Sir? If you prefer you can refuse us entry and then we can see