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

Ahead of them was a cycle shack where the visiting families could hire bikes to carry them around the holiday park. Beth knew that if Gracie got on a cycle he’d get away. She was almost close enough to grab the back of his overalls when he glanced over his shoulder.

Beth saw the surprise in his eyes that she was so close. He put on an extra burst of speed which opened the gap.

As much as her lungs were burning from the sprint, Beth matched his burst and once again closed in. A slope led down to where rows of bikes were arranged ready for hire, and with Gracie almost in reach of them, Beth threw herself down the gradient after him.

Her legs couldn’t keep up with her upper body’s momentum so Beth allowed herself to topple forward. She wrapped her arms around Gracie’s waist and let the weight of her body slow his pace.

As he slowed, she let her grip loosen and slid down his body until her arms were at his knees. She tensed her muscles and squeezed his legs into her body. As rugby tackles go, it wasn’t the greatest ever performed, but it brought Gracie down, which was all that mattered.

He writhed and flailed at her as he squirmed round so he was facing her, his arms throwing punches towards her head as he kicked to be free. Her ear rang as he landed a blow on it and a punch split her eyebrow causing blood to trickle down her face. She hung tight until one of his blows hit her shoulder. She didn’t know whether it pinched a nerve or landed on a pressure point, but a bolt of fire seemed to explode down her arm.

With her grip on him loosened a little, Gracie’s writhing started to bear fruit and he was managing to wriggle free. She couldn’t allow this to happen, so she reared over him and then slumped her body forward as her good arm bent back so she could retrieve the collapsible baton from her pocket.

Beth could feel the gasps of air from Gracie’s mouth on her face, could smell his rank smoky breath and hear his curses. As she struggled to free the collapsible baton from her pocket, she felt his arms move between them. She butted her head forward and burst his nose, but Gracie didn’t react to the blow. Between them she could feel his hands press against her body as he tried to lift her away so he could get free.

Beth was in the throes of flicking the baton so it would extend when one hand grabbed at her breast. Gracie didn’t try and push her off, instead he dug his fingers into her and squeezed her flesh, twisting his hand as he fought her off.

‘You like that, don’t you, bitch?’

O’Dowd’s voice roared across the morning air. ‘Hoy, you flaming pervert.’

Beth reared back with Gracie’s hand still clutching her breast. The collapsible baton in her hand swung towards his forearm. A dull crack and her breast was released. A second swing, harder this time, landed on the inside of his right elbow. He yelped and released his grip of her entirely.

With her left arm now working better, Beth fished out her handcuffs and slipped them over Gracie’s wrists. She wasn’t sure if she’d broken his arm with her first blow and she wasn’t particularly bothered. So far as she was concerned, Gracie deserved everything he got.

O’Dowd arrived and bent over them, hands on knees as she fought to get her breath back and a sheen of sweat covering her forehead. When she spoke it was between huffed breaths.

‘You must be one of the stupidest men I’ve ever met. I have just witnessed you physically and sexually assaulting a police officer while resisting arrest. I suggest that you be a good boy from now on, otherwise I’m going to give in to the temptation to revisit the days when police brutality was an everyday occurrence.’

O’Dowd turned her gaze to Beth. ‘Read him his rights and make sure that you include every possible offence that you can think of, and if you can think of a way to do him for being a vile and smelly bastard who’s such a perverted loser that the only way he can get physical contact with a woman is to molest his arresting officer, well, do him for that an’ all.’

Beth did as she was told and named all the offences Gracie had committed along with the suspicion of four counts of rape and murder.

Her breast stung from where he’d grabbed it and as much as she wanted to pass his groping off as part of the job, she knew that she would have to report the assault in full. The thought of having the police doctor examine her, and if there was bruising, take pictures for evidence, chilled her, but not only was it part of the due process, there was no way her conscience would allow her to lie and say she was unhurt and didn’t need any attention. She’d been sexually assaulted and while it wasn’t anything like as bad as it could have been, she would be a fraud if she didn’t report a sexual assault against her while planning to front a rape charity that urged victims to report their own experiences.

There was also the question of how she’d discuss this all with O’Dowd. The DI had been adamant that they didn’t need Thompson and Unthank or some uniforms to help them arrest Gracie, yet because of O’Dowd’s insistence on grabbing the glory, the suspect had nearly got away and the whole mess of the assault had happened.

It was poor decision-making at best and incompetence at worst. This case was too important to mess around and try to score points with the top brass.

Forty-Five

O’Dowd went through the names of those present and the litany of charges against Gracie while the man in question