A Body in the Lakes by Graham Smith (great books of all time .TXT) 📕

last of the light was fading, and Willow was on the point of tears, Spike came bumbling along with a live rabbit in his mouth.

He dropped the rabbit at her feet and looked up at her with that irresistible doggy grin of his that always melted her heart.

Willow reached down and slipped her fingers round Spike’s collar lest he pursue the escaping rabbit.

With his lead clipped in place she chatted away to him, asking where he’d been and why he hadn’t answered her call.

She didn’t expect an answer from him, it was just her way of dealing with the fear she’d had that some ill had befallen Spike.

As she set off for home, she was unaware of the man who’d been watching her, or that he planned to bring a sedative for the dog the next time he followed her along this secluded path.

Most of all, she knew nothing of the fate he had planned for her.

Seventeen

The spreadsheet in front of Beth was growing at an exponential rate. Columns were filling and extra rows were being added as she fed the key points from the various reports into their respective places.

As always she’d run her daily circuit around Penrith before coming into work, had a quick shower and by 7 a.m. she’d got to her desk. Her damp hair may have left a dark patch on the back of her jacket, but if today’s weather was anything like yesterday’s it would be damp patches under her arms that would be the bigger problem.

The office assigned to FMIT possessed only one window and no air-conditioning. The window faced south, which meant that the sun heated the room from ten in the morning until the middle of the evening. A couple of desk fans moved warm air around without actually changing the temperature.

O’Dowd had been on to Maintenance a dozen times about getting them a portable air-con unit, but none had yet materialised. Carleton Hall being an old building with thick walls helped to keep a steady temperature, but with four computers pushing out heat, the room didn’t take long to get stuffy. Even in the winter months, the window was kept open a crack to ensure there was some fresh air in the room.

O’Dowd rapped her pen against a cup to get everyone’s attention. ‘Right my little band of intrepid investigators. Here’re your tasks for today. Frank, I want you to personally speak to the officers who investigated each of the three murders; I want their every thought, especially the ones they didn’t put into the reports. Go see them face to face. If their superiors block you or tell you they’re busy, refer them back to the chief super. Ambush them in their gardens if you have to, but speak to them.’

That O’Dowd had given this task to Frank Thompson made sense to Beth; as a long serving copper he’d be treated with a certain amount of respect, as would his rank of DS. He was senior enough to suggest they were taking the investigators’ testimonies seriously, yet not so senior as to make them fearful of saying the wrong thing.

‘Paul, I want you to collate all the information you can get about the snatch sites. I’m talking about ANPR records, CCTV footage that was examined, witnesses who were spoken to and any other avenues that were explored and can be cross-referenced.’

The task that Unthank had been given was an onerous one. His would be a day of drudgery trapped in an office that had ambitions of becoming an oven.

As O’Dowd turned her gaze upon her, Beth gave her fingers a mental crossing that the tasks given to her would at least get her out of the office.

‘Due to your conduct yesterday, DC Young, and a development that you’re not yet aware of, I have a special task for you.’ O’Dowd’s smile was viperous in every way.

‘Ma’am?’ Beth could hear the dread in her voice, and she saw O’Dowd’s smile widen.

‘Two things: first off, I’ve heard back from the CSI team. The invitation and credit card were devoid of any prints. Not even a partial was recovered, which suggests they were wiped down before being left. Second, I’ve had an email from Digital Forensics. They found over a thousand images of child abuse on Forster’s computer.’

Beth’s pulse throbbed and she could feel horror coursing through her entire body. This new evidence would allow her to nail Forster good and proper.

‘What the?… I thought he was Mister Squeaky Clean. We going to arrest him again?’

‘Wrong.’ O’Dowd’s smile never faltered. ‘Forensics cross-referenced all the times the images were downloaded against the mayor’s diary. Literally all of them were downloaded when he was away from home. And none of them have ever been opened.’

‘So he hasn’t had chance to look at them since he downloaded them. They’re still on his computer. Unless he wasn’t the person who downloaded them.’

‘You’re underestimating Forensics. In case what you’re saying is true, they dug a little deeper. Well, much deeper if I’m honest. They found that someone had hacked into the computer and placed the images in the records.’ O’Dowd raised a hand in a halt gesture. ‘And before you ask, no they haven’t been able to trace the person who put it there, and yes, they’re trying everything they can think of, but so far, they’ve drawn a blank.’ The raised hand flapped in a dismissive gesture. ‘I didn’t understand half of what they told me, but apparently the trail leads to servers in the Cayman Islands, Beirut, Iceland and about a dozen other countries. They also mentioned dynamic IPs, whatever the hell they are, and suggested it was done via Tor and the Dark Web.’

Beth knew what a dynamic IP was and about the Tor Browser. Computers all have an Internet Protocol, or IP, address. These can be static, which means the number is fixed at all times, or they can be dynamic, which means the number changes every time you go online. The