STORM LOG-0505: A Gripping, Supernatural Crime Thriller (The First Detective Deans Novel) Read Free Page A

diminished ownership, perhaps less self-imposed responsibility. They were both aware of the stats: twenty-five to thirty per cent, the experts had quoted. Not great odds if you were putting money down, but more than a glimmer of hope to cling onto if you dreamed of becoming a parent. Work was his coping mechanism, his fleeting release from the anguish. Maria had a part-time hairdressing job with her best friend from school days, who had two children herself. Deans did not think Maria resented the fact he could escape , but it certainly did not help that he was often at work when she was at her most fertile. The three a.m. attempts to conceive off the back of a long shift because Maria was ovulating, were anything but romantic.
    He left the house having cocooned Maria within a duvet in front of the TV and a boxed set of Sex and the City and walked his usual route to work.
    Bath was shaped like a bowl, with the majority of action taking place at the heart. He likened it to the crater of a volcano, not only in appearance but also for its quiescent energy with undertones of irrepressible ferocity. He had lived in Bath all his life, and becoming a cop had tainted his image, but not his love for his home.
     
    He arrived at the office well before his shift was due to begin. The team on days were sitting around their desks, faces glued to their screens.
    ‘Hey, guys, how’s it going?’ Deans said as he walked past them towards his own desk. He fired up the computer and tried the room again. ‘All right, guys? How’s it been?’
    ‘Busy,’ DC Saunders replied, still looking at his screen.
    ‘Anything to hand over?’ Deans asked.
    ‘Need to speak with you about that MISPER from the weekend, Deano,’ DS Boyle, the day shift skipper said. ‘No problems. Uniform have disowned it and I see you were on duty when the job first came in.’
    ‘MISPER?’ Deans hesitated; he had been dealing with the robbery. ‘Are we talking about the student?’
    ‘You’ve got it,’ Boyle replied. ‘Grab yourself a brew and come on over.’
    ‘Not sure what I can offer,’ Deans said. ‘CID didn’t have any involvement. She was medium risk.’
    ‘Not any more, Deano,’ Boyle said dejectedly. ‘High risk and we’re all tucked up.’
    Deans looked at Boyle’s team, each of them avoiding eye contact. It was their first day on duty from rest days – how could they all be unavailable already?
    Boyle handed Deans a wad of papers. The top sheet was a contemporaneous transcript of the 999 call, showing the timings, caller details and all subsequent police enquiries – the STORM LOG; the starting point of most investigations. And this one had been the five hundred and fifth call of that day. When Deans first saw this log there were only several lines of information. Now it was four A4 pages long.
    ‘We need a detective on this now, Deano,’ Boyle said. ‘Uniform have done everything they can but this needs a comprehensive investigation.’ He clutched Deans’ shoulder and leant in. ‘The Boss is starting to kick up about this at prayers. We need progress and we need it pronto.’
    Deans sighed, and looked over at the case files on his desk stacked like a game of Jenga. ‘Yeah, no worries. Last I heard, she hadn’t returned to her digs after the weekend. Surely someone’s had contact with her by now?’
    ‘Not according to uniform,’ Boyle replied. ‘It seems no one knows where the girl is. Can you or someone from your team get back onto the housemate, Jessica Morrison, and track down the boyfriend? Somebody must know something. Pin them down to specifics. Oh, and we need contact with the family, ASAP, compliments of the boss.’
    ‘Yeah. Sure.’ Deans nodded half-heartedly, and shuffled over to his desk to review the enquiries.
    PC Wilder of Team 1 had spoken to Jessica Morrison by phone yesterday. She still had not heard from Amy. Deans scanned the rest of the bundle and was disappointed to see telecoms and banking enquiries