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Back Under a Dark Cloud Save as PDF
Chapters (77)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Prologue
  4. Part 1
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. Part 2
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. Part 3
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. Acknowledgements
  74. Next in Series
  75. Canelo Crime
  76. About the Author
  77. Also by Louisa Scarr

‘It’s not just him in the van,’ Baker says. Robin catches the edge in his tone. Something far more serious is going on.

DCI Baker continues: ‘There’s a dead body in there, too.’

2

8.10 a.m. and DC Freya West slides into a seat next to DC Mina Desai, at the edge of the main incident room.

‘My first day back and you’re ten minutes late?’ Mina hisses.

‘Shush, I brought you coffee,’ she says, handing one of the takeaway cups to her friend. ‘Power went out last night, my alarm didn’t go off.’

It’s not been a great start to the day. Already Freya’s annoyed. Waking with a jolt to a blank bedside clock; no power to boil the kettle; worrying about food spoiling in her silent freezer, until the power flickered back into life just before she left the house. She senses an excited undercurrent from the other detectives; a level of chatter and laughter that can only result from something as out of the ordinary as the huge gales and pouring rain last night. They are all as wound up as kids.

She glances round the room again: where is Butler? She’d brought the second coffee for Robin, but as he is nowhere to be seen, and Mina looks like she’ll fall asleep any second, she figures the latter is more deserving.

Mina takes it with a grateful smile and clutches it tightly in her hands. ‘Where’s your boss?’ Mina asks, and Freya shrugs.

‘Must have a day off,’ she whispers back. But she knows that’s not true. They’d worked together yesterday as usual, finishing off the paperwork for a GBH, and he hadn’t mentioned being off today. It’s odd. Freya looks at her phone again: no message. She briefly wonders whether he’s hung-over and has overslept, as he tended to do in the past, but things haven’t been like that for a while. He’s been more together lately – clean-shaven, shirts ironed. Sometimes he even gets a haircut. She sends a quick text: Where are you? as Mina tugs on her arm.

‘Is that the new guy?’ she says, nodding towards a man sitting at the edge of the group.

Freya glances across. The male detectives are, as usual, wearing an identikit version of the same outfit: pale-blue shirt, boring tie, smart trousers, lanyard slung round their necks. Freya thinks they must all shop in the same place – Next or Marks & Spencer – creatures of simple habit, not known for their dress sense. The new guy is wearing something similar, although he pulls it off better than the rest: slightly more fitted, slightly more fashionable. ‘That’s him,’ she replies. ‘Josh Smith. Transferred from up north somewhere.’

‘Hot,’ Mina comments with a sideways look at Freya.