Chapters (77)
- Cover
- Discover the series you can’t put down …
- Epigraph
- PROLOGUE
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Keep Reading …
- When things get rough, we should all have a friend like Ben Hope …
- TERROR HAS A NAME …
- ONLY THE STRONG SURVIVE.
- DEEP SOUTH.DEEPER SECRETS.
- Spring 2021
- About the Author
- By the same author:
- About the Publisher
‘On closer inspection of the burnt-out vehicle I found a small hole in the fuel tank. Small enough that it could be easily missed at a glance, but big enough to allow approximately half the tank’s contents to leak out all over the ground. Which would render the vehicle unroadworthy and basically unusable until the hole was plugged or the tank replaced. But I don’t think it was being driven in that condition. I think the hole was made more recently, with something sharp. Like a very slim, needlepoint knife blade.’
‘For what reason?’
Vaughn replied, ‘Well, it could have been done deliberately to drain part of the tank’s contents into a container, such as the melted jerrycan I found on the scene. Which would imply to me that the fire was started on purpose, and not the result of a bullet accidentally getting into the electricals. The corpse might have been doused in petrol after being shot.’
‘Why would Hope do that?’
‘Potentially, to conceal the identity of the body from us. I’m not saying that’s the case. It’s just a theory, based on a hunch.’
His boss reflected on this. ‘I hear you. We’ll know soon enough, when we DNA the tissue sample and examine the teeth.’
‘The teeth alone wouldn’t necessarily prove anything,’ Vaughn said. ‘Except that Hope was able to obtain a similar denture.’
‘Where from?’
Vaughn shrugged. ‘The subject could have provided him with one. Maybe a spare that he carried with him. Again, I’m not basing that on any kind of cast-iron evidence. I wouldn’t even call it a suspicion. But it’s worth remembering who you’re dealing with here.’
His boss reflected a moment longer. ‘Good work, Vaughn. Hurry back to London with those samples. The sooner we start running these tests, the better.’
‘On my way,’ Vaughn said, and ended the call.
In London, the man whom Ben Hope knew as Saunders put down the phone and leaned back in his chair, his high forehead crinkled into a pensive frown as he weighed up what he’d been told. If his man Vaughn’s hunch was in any way plausible, the logical implications were concerning.