Under Pressure: Inspector Stone Mysteries, #6

By Alex R Carver

Nathan Stone hasn't long got back from a holiday, but he could already do with another one. Between a murder, an unexplained drowning, a trio of assaults, a missing teen, and an interdepartmental dispute over jurisdiction, he's under so much pressure he barely has time to sleep.

 

All of that would be bad enough without one of the assaults having occurred on his best friend, Louisa Orchard, leaving her in the same ITU where his wife died.

He's determined to catch the people responsible, despite the strain that such a busy caseload and worry over his best friend is having on him.

 

Can he keep himself together and awake long enough to solve the cases and hopefully see Louisa recover from her injuries?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alex R Carver
• Release date: Jul 29, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223425151

Alex R Carver

After working in the clerical, warehouse and retail industries over the years, without gaining much satisfaction, Alex quit to follow his dream and become a full-time writer. Where There's A Will is the first book in the Inspector Stone Mysteries series, with more books in the series to come, as well as titles in other genres in the pipeline. His dream is to one day earn enough to travel, with a return to Egypt to visit the parts he missed before, and Macchu Picchu, top of his wishlist of destinations. When not writing, he is either playing a game or being distracted by Molly the Yorkie, who is greedy for both attention and whatever food is to be found. You can find out more about Alex R Carver at the following links https://twitter.com/arcarver87 https://alexrcarver.wordpress.com/ https://medium.com/@arcarver87 https://www.facebook.com/Alex-R-Carver-1794038897591918/

Book preview

1

Detective Inspector Nathan Stone maintained a bland expression as he watched Will Simon collect his things before being shown out of the station. He had no intention of letting either Simon or his solicitor know how frustrated he was.

Only when the two men were out of sight and earshot did he let his feelings show. He swore loudly and scowled in a way that made the uniformed officers in the custody suite hurry past him, doing their best not to draw attention to themselves.

Are you certain Mr Larkin won’t make a statement or testify? Nathan asked of the man at his side once he stopped swearing.

Unlike the uniformed officers, Detective Sergeant Burke had no problem meeting his superior’s gaze. Having partnered with Nathan for years, he was used to his temporary fits of frustration and anger when a case failed to go the way he wanted it to, and he knew they generally disappeared as quickly as they appeared.

This time, he suspected Nathan’s anger might last longer for it was not the first time Will Simon had assaulted someone and got away with it. As on previous occasions, it was because the victim was too scared to testify against him or his boss, especially his boss.

Burke nodded. I’m afraid so. As far as he’s concerned, he has no idea who attacked him, or even why he was attacked. He’s too scared even to admit that he’s a regular at Xanadu, let alone that he owes Mrs Hobbs more than ten thousand pounds and tried to pay her off with a dud cheque. I was as persuasive as I know how to be, but no go.

Well, if you can’t get him to testify, no-one can, Nathan said with a sigh. Running his fingers through his tangled mess of black hair, he reflected that it was past time he had a haircut. If his wife were still alive, she would never have allowed him to let it grow so long. It was hanging past his collar and in another couple of weeks it would be long enough for him to put it in a small ponytail.

His hair was not the only aspect of his appearance that had suffered following the loss of his family. He had lost weight, through a combination of working too hard and not eating well enough, which was especially noticeable in his face, and his clothes were rumpled because he rarely got around to ironing them.

I don’t suppose that coffee you put on earlier will still be fit to drink, will it? he asked hopefully.

Not by anyone who appreciates coffee, Burke said, by which he meant himself. He knew only too well that while his partner enjoyed the expensive coffee he brought in and brewed in his personal coffee machine, Nathan was just as willing to drink the cheap and tasteless coffee available from the canteen. Are you still avoiding going home?

Nathan nodded. Ever since April got together with her new guy, she’s been acting like a lovestruck teenager. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad she’s found someone new and thinks he’s ‘the one’. It’s high time she had some luck on the romance front. And I appreciate that their schedules don’t coincide very often because they’re on different routes. When their schedules do match, though, they can’t seem to keep their hands off one another. I wouldn’t mind that, but they can’t seem to keep it behind closed doors. Every time I go in a room, there they are, all over each other. There’s nothing worse than going into the kitchen to get a drink or something to eat and finding your half-naked sister pressed up against the fridge by a guy who doesn’t seem to understand either modesty or privacy. They’re both home for the next three days, so I plan on being there as little as possible.

Why don’t you move into your nan’s place until the lovefest is over?

It’s a good idea, Nathan said, but no longer possible. It got sold last week. The deal’s still being finalised by the lawyers, but essentially the house is no longer mine and April’s.

So, what are you going to do, hide out here for the next three days? Burke asked. That won’t be good for you.

Nathan gave a half-hearted shrug. I’ll go home to get changed, shower, assuming the shower isn’t occupied, and sleep when I need to. The rest of the time I’ll keep myself busy catching up with paperwork. The time should fly by. He laughed at the dubious look on Burke’s face. He was still annoyed about the Will Simon situation but did feel a little better after laughing. I may even spend a bit of time looking for a place of my own.

What brought that on? Burke asked as he darted up the stairs at the end of the passage two and three at a time, as he always did. He had to wait on the first floor for Nathan, who ascended the stairs at a more sedate pace. I thought you were okay with living with April, and she was happy to have you there.

I was, and she is, Nathan said when he reached his friend. But I’ve been there a while now, and it’s beginning to feel like I’m imposing, especially when I keep walking in on April and her guy. I think it’s time we both had some space, and now I’ve got the money coming through from nan’s house, I can afford to start looking for somewhere.

Will it be enough on its own when you have to share it with April? Or are you putting it with the money from your old house?

Nathan’s face darkened at the reminder of the fire that had cost him his family. An event that would have been hard enough to deal with had it been an accident, which was not the case. It had been started deliberately by a murderer with a grudge.

The fire was never far from his mind, no matter what he did or how hard he tried to forget it. In the space of one night, he had gone from a husband and father to a widower who had lost both his children, and virtually any reason for living. It had taken months of therapy and medication to get him to the point where he no longer wanted to die, and he was willing to return to work.

He still wasn’t over what had happened and was haunted almost daily by his loss, but he was now able to function, which was an improvement on how he had been in the immediate aftermath of the tragedy.

I haven’t got that yet. The insurance company’s finished the renovations, and it’s on the market, but it hasn’t sold yet. I’ve had some interest but no offers. The agent thinks the fire is putting people off. He says I may have to decide what to do with the place soon; either move back in, rent it out, or reduce the price if I’m determined to sell.

Nathan couldn’t bear the thought of moving back into the house where his family had died, even if it did look very different after the insurance company’s renovation, and selling below the house’s value seemed wrong to him. He wasn’t sure about renting the house out either, he didn’t fancy the extra work that was likely to come with being a landlord.

I can at least start looking for somewhere while I decide what to do. Come on, I really need a coffee and a sticky bun. He continued up the stairs to the second floor so he could finish up some paperwork and bring an end to what had been a very annoying day.

2

C ome on, it’s time to go kayaking.

Graham Banks lifted his eyes from the book he was reading and looked over to the doorway, where his best friend, Miles Winston, was standing. I’m not going.

Why not? Miles asked, stepping into the room and out of the path of the people hurrying along the passage on their way to the lake.

You know water sports aren’t my thing, or sports of any kind, Graham said. I’m going to finish my chapter, then go for a walk. There’s supposed to be deer, hawks, and falcons around here. I want to see if I can get some pictures.

Miles crossed to the bed and reached down to grab his friend’s arm to haul him to his feet, at which point he had to look up to meet Graham’s eyes.

They were friends, but aside from both being male and fifteen they were as different as two people could be.

Graham was tall for his age at five feet eleven, well built with a physique made for sports, and popular with everyone, especially girls. Despite his athleticism and popularity, he was bookish and much happier in his own company or in the company of his few close friends, and he preferred nature to the sports field.

Miles, on the other hand, was short for his age at barely five feet four, and so skinny that people thought him undernourished, which was not the case for he ate constantly and without concern for what he had. Despite his underwhelming physique, topped off by a face that could easily be a before in a commercial for acne cream, he enjoyed playing every sport he could, even if he was rarely more than average at them.

Don’t be such a wuss. Come on down to the water and join in, you’ll enjoy it. Hell, you’ll probably be the best one there. Miles was not prone to jealousy, but if he had been he would have been jealous of his best friend, for though he was indifferent to sport, Graham had a knack for them, and he excelled at every physical activity he could be talked into trying. He, on the other hand, had to work hard to be even half as good.

No, Graham said with a firm shake of his head. I might go for a swim later, but I’m going for a walk once I’ve finished this chapter. Why don’t you go have fun. I know you’re dying to get down there with the girls so you can chat them all up. He scowled at Miles until he left.

The moment he was on his own he threw down his book and bent so he could grope under the bed. Pulling out his bag, he opened it and began rummaging through the contents until he found what he was after.

He took out the blister pack he had hidden in his socks and popped a couple of tablets out, swallowing them without pause. He then washed them down with a swig of the vodka he had stolen from the cabinet where his dad kept his booze, before slipping the bottle into his pocket.

Straightening up, he tucked his St Christopher back inside his t-shirt, annoyed as always that it fell out whenever he bent over, and sat down so he could pull on his boots.

The passage was empty as he left the room and made his way out of the dormitory style lodge at Open Spaces Activity Centre, which was a relief because he didn’t want to talk to or be seen by anyone.

The moment he stepped outside he saw everyone: the other pupils from Branchester Secondary School who were there with him, the activities director of the centre and his assistants, and the two teachers and two parents from Branchester who were there to chaperone the kids and make sure they behaved. Thankfully, none of them were looking his way.

Graham saw Coach Irish, the gym teacher and the man in charge of the trip to Open Spaces, looking around, almost certainly for him, and hurriedly darted for the boathouse, which would hide him from view. He kept the building between himself and the others, especially Coach Irish, until he reached the far corner.

Once there, he paused so he could peer out to check the coast was clear. He hurriedly ducked back when he saw that Coach Irish, with his uncanny knack for always seeming to know where to find him, was looking towards the boathouse.

Graham stayed where he was for more than a minute, afraid he had been seen, but when there was no sign of his least favourite teacher, not even a call for him to show himself, he risked another look around the corner of the building.

He was relieved to both see and hear that Coach Irish was too busy dealing with another student to worry about where he was or what he was doing. He couldn’t help feeling sorry for Neil Benson, the student on the receiving end of Coach Irish’s temper, having felt it himself on numerous occasions, but was glad it wasn’t directed at him that time.

The memory of the last verbal assault he had received made him reach into his pocket for the bottle of vodka. He gasped as the spirit burned its way down his throat but felt a little better as he put the bottle away.

Since he was not being observed, he felt safe to leave the shelter of the boathouse and head for the woods that surrounded Open Spaces Activity Centre. He moved at a fast walk, afraid that moving more rapidly would draw attention, and slipped between a pair of beeches when he reached the trees and out of sight of anyone who might be looking in that direction.

The moment he entered the woods Graham felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had always found it relaxing to be surrounded by nature, and just then was no exception. The further into the woods he walked, the better he felt, as though all his cares were being washed away by the birdsong and the whispering of the breeze through leaves and bushes.

If it had been possible, he would have stayed there forever, living a simple life without anything to worry about or anyone to bother him.

3

Nathan was in the middle of what he liked to call his monthly torture session, making sure all the reports from his department were in and had been inputted to the system correctly, which forced him to exercise his limited computer skills — no matter how much he practiced, his ability to use a computer competently never seemed to improve beyond a level at which a nine-year-old would mock him — when the phone on his desk rang.

Stone, C.I.D., he answered the phone, half annoyed by the interruption and half relieved.

It’s Bill, said the duty sergeant in the communications centre. I’ve got something for you.

Can’t you give it to someone else? I’m up to my eyeballs in paperwork. Much as he relished the thought of an excuse to take a break from the computer and the seemingly endless parade of reports, he knew the job needed finishing, and putting it off would only make it worse.

It’s a body, Nate, and you’re the senior officer right now, Bill Frost said. It looks like a drowning apparently, but it still needs investigating.

Of course it does, Nathan said with a sigh. Where is it?

Open spaces Activity Centre.

Okay, I’ll check it out, see what’s going on. Nathan hung up. How do you fancy a drive out to the country? he asked of Burke as he closed the report he had been checking and logged off from his computer.

What’s up? Burke asked.

A body’s been found out at Open Spaces. It’s a possible drowning and we need to check it out, Nathan told him. Do you want to come with me or stay here and go through this lot?

Burke glanced at the stack of reports on Nathan’s desk for only a moment before saying, I’ll go with you. Unlike Nathan, he had no problem with doing paperwork, he quite liked bringing order to chaos, but he preferred an investigation to paperwork. Why don’t you get Mason to do it, he said with a grin.

Nathan returned Burke’s grin with one of his own. Good thinking. Mason! he called out, lifting his voice so it carried through the open door to the outer office of the Criminal Investigation Division and the desk of his second sergeant.

Detective Sergeant Mason, who was a marked contrast to Burke, being only five-foot-seven and overweight to the point of almost failing his yearly physical, appeared in the doorway so quickly he might have teleported there. His ability to move so quickly had caught a few suspects by surprise over the years, since he looked as though he should be slow.

Yes?

You want to become an inspector someday, don’t you? Nathan asked.

Mason nodded. He was as ambitious as any other officer, even if he had been given reason to think that his chances of becoming an inspector were vanishingly small, thanks to ill-advised actions and attitudes on his part.

Good. Here’s your chance to find out what the job entails. I’ve got to go and deal with a body. While I’m out, I want you to check through all of these reports and make sure there’s no problems with them. It shouldn’t take you long if you’re efficient, then I can sign them off when I get back.

For a moment, Mason looked as though he was going to protest the job, but then he swallowed what he had been thinking of saying and nodded for a second time, realising that without the backing of his superior, his slim chances of becoming an inspector would reduce to non-existent.

Of course, I’ll get right on it. He collected the files and was on his way out of the office when he stopped. I almost forgot, I’ve got Grey sniffing around Aladdin’s Cave. I caught a rumour the other day that someone’s bought the shop from the Bilinski’s, and they’re just as dodgy. I’ve been trying to track down the new owner’s history but no luck so far.

Keep me informed, Nathan said. And make sure Grey’s careful. You know how often he cocks things up. With that he left the office, Burke on his heels.

Before leaving the station, he stopped at DCI Collins’ office to let him know a body had been found, before he heard about it from another source, especially The Branton Herald, or Branton’s rising freelance journalist, Louisa Orchard, either one of whom would want a quote or whatever information could be teased from an official source.

NATHAN SAW THE PAIR of minibuses parked outside the main building of the activity centre the moment he and Burke reached the entrance to the car park. Both minibuses were emblazoned with the name and crest of Branchester Secondary School and Sixth Form College, and the sight made his heart sink a little.

It was no surprise that a school had pupils at the centre, he knew the majority of the bookings Open Space received were from schools, but he would have preferred it if that hadn’t been the case just then. Even if the body was not that of a pupil, and no-one from the school was connected with it, The Branton Herald was likely to make the most of school children being there at the time of a fatal incident.

Did Frost give you any details on the body? Burke asked as he got out of the car, his eyes, like those of Nathan, on the two minibuses.

No. Nathan shook his head. I’m not sure he had any details to give. Come on, we won’t find out what’s happened by staying here. He led the way past the school vehicles and into the building.

Hi, Detective Inspector Stone and Detective Sergeant Burke, Nathan introduced himself and his partner to the white-faced young man who was the only person to be seen. I understand a body has been found, could you tell me... He was interrupted before he could finish.

It’s this way, Inspector.

Lead on then, Nathan told the uniformed constable.

He couldn’t see the body that had brought him there when he stepped outside again, but he could guess where it was. The lake was about a hundred yards away, and between it and him was a small gathering of people; he was sure the body was to be found in the middle of the group, which was made up of the partner of the constable who was leading him, two paramedics, and five others, three of whom he guessed to be staff members at the activity centre from their clothes — skin-tight items that were suitable for all weathers and activities.

Nathan didn’t dawdle on his way to the group, but neither did he hurry. He used the walk as an opportunity to look around and get a sense of the area and the situation.

He could see nothing that he found troubling, outside of the fact that someone had died there that morning, but he knew that meant nothing. He and Burke had been to plenty of crime scenes that looked to be anything but at first glance.

As he got closer, he switched his attention from his surroundings to the group. He looked from one face to the next, searching for anything that might be out of place or which might demand an explanation.

The constable who had taken up a position slightly to one side of the group, out of the way but close enough to provide assistance if it was needed, was making an effort to appear detached from the situation, though he could not entirely conceal the distress he was feeling.

The paramedics wore identical professional looks that neatly concealed whatever they might be feeling, though there was an air of compassion about them both, which was to be expected of people who were accustomed but not used to the ways in which a life could end.

Nathan was not interested in either the constable or the paramedics. They would not have arrived until after the young man died — he was more of a boy, Nathan thought as he rounded the group and was able to see the body on the ground more clearly — and so had no knowledge of, and hadn’t been involved with, what had happened to him. It was the other members of the group that he was concerned with, and to whom he looked for early clues as to how the boy had died.

The three that Nathan had identified as Open Spaces employees were, to one degree or another, upset and distressed, though largely in control of themselves. He suspected they would remain in control until they were alone or with their friends and family, only then would they let their feelings out.

The same could not be said for the middle-aged woman, whom Nathan decided from her reaction and her clothes was a teacher from Branchester Secondary School. She appeared on the verge of a total collapse. Her entire body trembled and shook, her cheeks were wet from tears, her eyes were red, and she sobbed in a way that made Nathan think she was either genuinely upset by the death or she should take up a career in acting and expect to win awards.

It was the last person in the group that interested Nathan the most. Like the crying woman, he guessed the man was a teacher, a gym teacher based on his better than average condition for someone who appeared to be in his fifties and the tracksuit he was wearing. He had separated himself from the others by a short distance, which Nathan found a little curious.

He was more interested in the look on the man’s face though; the gym teacher, if that was what he was, seemed to be more angry than upset over the body on the ground.

Nathan filed away the teacher’s anger as something to investigate later, and focused instead on the more immediate, and important, matter of getting to the bottom of what had happened.

Hello, I’m Detective Inspector Stone, and this is my partner, Detective Sergeant Burke, he introduced the two of them once he had the attention of everyone in the group. I realise this isn’t a good time for any of you, but I’m sure you can appreciate that I need to get to the bottom of what’s happened here. There was a barely perceptible series of nods that he took to mean they understood and were okay with him being there, or at least as okay as they could be under the circumstances. Right then, let’s start with the basics, if you could all give me your names, and the name of the unfortunate young gentleman here.

There was silence for several long seconds, broken only by the sobs of the teacher, and then they all started speaking at once.

It might be better if you speak one at a time, Nathan said. Starting with you. He pointed at the gym teacher. Who are you, and do you know who the young man is?

Yes, he’s Graham Banks, a pupil at Branchester Secondary School, and I’m Steven Irish, head of physical education there.

Thank you. Nathan noted that the anger he had detected in Irish’s face was also there in his voice. And you are? He turned to