The Lost
- Автор: Бекетт Саймон
- Серия: Jonah Colley #1
- Год: 2021
- Язык: английский
- Год: Orion/Trapeze
- ISBN: 978-1-398-70690-3
- Жанр: Триллеры
Электронная книга - «The Lost». Краткое содержание книги:
Ten years ago, the disappearance of firearms police officer Jonah Colley’s young son almost destroyed him.
A GRUESOME DISCOVERY
A plea for help from an old friend leads Jonah to Slaughter Quay, and the discovery of four bodies. Brutally attacked and left for dead, he is the only survivor.
A SEARCH FOR THE TRUTH
Under suspicion himself, he uncovers a network of secrets and lies about the people he thought he knew — forcing him to question what really happened all those years ago...
Neither of them pressed a button to select a floor.
Oh, great. Jonah didn’t recognise them, but he guessed they were there to either buy or sell, and had decided a lone invalid was an easy target. Keeping his eyes on the illuminated floor numbers above the doors, he shifted his stance to distribute his weight on his crutches and bad leg.
‘I’m police.’
They stirred, looking from him to each other and back again.
‘You what?’
It was the smaller of the two, greasy blond hair peeping out from under the hood. Jonah kept his gaze on the floor indicator.
‘You heard.’
The indicator flickered as the lift passed another floor. Jonah continued to gaze above their heads, his face stone. He could feel the tension building, knew it could go either way. Crutches or not, after the day he’d had, he didn’t care.
The lift stopped. The doors chimed open.
Jonah could feel them watching him as he got out and unhurriedly went down the corridor. He listened for any sound that they were coming after him, but there was only a squeaking glide as the lift doors shut again. When he heard it start to descend, Jonah stopped and turned. A strip light flickered and buzzed on the corridor behind him, but otherwise it was empty.
Not sure if he was relieved or disappointed, he continued to his flat and let himself in. Taking off his jacket, he went to the fridge and took out a beer. He drank straight from the can, then took out his phone and ordered a pizza. Normally, he tried to limit his junk food, but it was late and he was too tired to cook anything.
Again, that sort of a day.
He’d finished the can and was contemplating having another when the doorbell rang. Just using one crutch, he limped into the hallway and looked through the spyhole. He half expected to see the dickheads from the lift, but it wasn’t them. The person standing outside was even less welcome.
Jonah leaned his head against the door. Perfect. That’s just perfect. The doorbell buzzed again, followed this time by a brisk knock. Straightening, he opened the door.
Corinne Daly gave a bright smile as she held out a pizza delivery box. ‘I hope you didn’t order anchovy.’
Chapter 18
Jonah didn’t take the box. ‘What do you want?’
‘Well, a drink wouldn’t go amiss, if you’re offering.’ Her grin faded when Jonah didn’t respond. She offered the pizza box again. ‘Can you at least take this? I’m getting greasy fingers.’
He still didn’t move. Daly sighed.
‘I came up in the lift with the delivery guy and said I’d give it to you, OK? I even tipped him. I haven’t poisoned it, honest.’
Jonah took the box and started to shut the door.
‘No, wait!’ Daly leaned into the closing gap. ‘I’m not working now, this is my own time. I came to apologise.’
‘I don’t want to hear it.’
‘Please, just listen! I’ve found out some things you might want to hear.’
Jonah stopped, still holding the door part shut. ‘What things?’
‘Let me come in and I’ll tell you. Look, in case you’re worried...’ She rummaged in her shoulder bag and took out her phone. ‘I’m turning it off. There.’
Daly held it up, showing him the screen as the phone shut down.
‘See? It’s off, it’s not recording. And you’ll want to hear what I’ve got to say.’
Jonah hesitated, but curiosity won out. He opened the door to let her in.
‘I’ll give you five minutes.’
That earned him a smile. ‘Thank you.’
He let her go into the living room first. She put her shoulder bag onto the coffee table and sank onto the sofa with a sigh. She stayed like that, long legs stretched out in front of her, slender throat upturned. Jonah was suddenly aware of how attractive she was. Pushing away the thought, he sat down in the armchair so the coffee table was in between them.
‘So, what is it you want to tell me?’
‘I’ll come to that in a minute. There’s something I want to get off my chest first.’ Daly sat up, suddenly uncertain. ‘I kept thinking about what I did, at the hospital and the memorial service, and... I wanted to apologise for the way I behaved. That’s not me, OK? I don’t like to think of myself as that sort of person. Sometimes I just don’t much like what I have to do, or myself for doing it. And this has been one of those times.’
Jonah wasn’t convinced this wasn’t another attempt to play him. But she looked tired and vulnerable sitting there, not the confident journalist who’d ambushed him in his hospital room or confronted him outside the church. And her apology seemed genuine.
‘So why keep on doing it?’
‘Believe it or not, I still like being a journalist. Somebody’s got to hold people to account, and on a good day that’s how I see what I do. But mainly it’s because I’m a single parent with a mortgage and a six-year-old daughter. I need the money.’ She gave him a rueful smile. ‘I’m not looking for sympathy, I just wanted to... I don’t know. Explain, I suppose. So you don’t think I’m a complete cow.’
‘OK.’ This wasn’t what Jonah had expected, but he wasn’t ready to roll over yet. ‘You said you’d found out some things I should hear.’
She looked down, acknowledging his suspicion. But when she met his eyes again there was no mistaking the gleam in them.
‘I know who one of the victims is.’
That got his interest. ‘Which one?’
Daly smiled. She sat back, knowing she’d set her hook.
‘I think that deserves a slice of pizza.’
‘His name’s Daniel Kimani.’
Daly wiped her fingers on a piece of kitchen roll. The last piece of pizza was congealing in the open box, a half-empty can of beer next to it. That was her second. Jonah was on his third, having had one before she arrived. He’d told himself it would be his last.
Daly had insisted on waiting until they’d eaten before telling him anything else. He’d been impatient at first, but had decided it was better to go with it. So far, she hadn’t given him any cause to regret letting her in. She’d done most of the talking, at least when she wasn’t eating pizza and drinking beer, but she’d avoided the subject of Slaughter Quay. Although part of him remained guarded, Jonah actually found he was enjoying her company.
Now, though, she was ready to get down to business.
‘He was a post-grad student from Kenya,’ she continued, dropping the screwed-up kitchen roll on the coffee table. ‘Twenty-six, came here on a student visa two years ago to take a PhD in politics and sociology. Well thought of, by all accounts, but not much for socialising. Only had a few friends and even then kept himself to himself, but he was a keen human rights campaigner. He was reported missing two days before you found his body at Slaughter Quay. Didn’t show for meetings at the university and wasn’t answering his phone. His flatmate said he hadn’t been home since going out in a rush one morning. But he didn’t tell anyone where he was going or who he was meeting.’
Jonah’s mind had been racing as he listened. If this Kimani was in the country on a student visa, then that put a massive hole in the theory that the three warehouse victims were illegal migrants, or the victims of a trafficking gang.
‘How do you know all this?’ He hadn’t seen any mention of it in the news, so either it had only just been released or Daly had a well-placed police contact.
‘It didn’t come from the enquiry team, if that’s what you’re thinking. They aren’t saying anything, so I did some digging of my own.’ She tried not to look pleased with herself, but her pride leaked through. ‘I checked through all the missing persons announcements around that time matching the description the police put out — and believe me, there were a lot — and whittled them down. Daniel Kimani ticked all the boxes. Some of his friends from the university had put up a small reward for information, so I contacted them and asked to meet. They filled me in with the rest.’