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A Lethal Deception
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A Lethal Deception
A Detective Kay Hunter crime thriller
Rachel Amphlett
A Lethal Deception © 2021 Rachel Amphlett
The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
* * *
This is a work of fiction. While the locations in this book are a mixture of real and imagined, the characters are totally fictitious. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Contents
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
About the Author
One
Her calves burned, her breath escaping in a fine mist.
Silence, except for the sound of her footsteps.
Her lungs strained against her ribs as she took another gulp of air and leapt over a low timber barrier separating the asphalt from a rough footpath, its dirt and stony surface crunching under her shoes.
Ghostly forms emerged from the thick fog that surrounded her on each side – stunted trees struggling to grow in the thin soil discarded by the developers that had completed the latest additions to the housing estate, and stubborn shrubs that reached out and wrapped thorny tendrils around her cotton sweatshirt.
Faster now, away from the shadows, away from the darkened windows of houses that backed onto the footpath, increasing her pace to offset the chill air that clung to her skin.
An orange glow ebbed and bobbed in front of her, the streetlamp morphing into a blob of light that cast a pitiful arc over the far end of the next street as her feet found pavement once more.
Then she stumbled, the loose laces from one shoe catching under the other and pitching her forwards.
Throwing out her hands to the side to steady herself, she slowed to a standstill and peered at her feet.
‘Shit.’
Detective Inspector Kay Hunter dropped to a crouch and reached out for the errant laces, her gaze sweeping the fog shrouding the housing estate.
Fine wisps of moisture clung to her hair while she secured the bow, and she brushed a strand from her eyes before straightening. Her breath clouded in front of her as she checked over her shoulder for approaching cars.
The fog thickened the air, deadening the sounds of traffic from the main road only half a mile away, and gave the atmosphere a milky hue that would cause havoc on the M20 motorway tonight.
Her colleagues in the traffic division would be busy.
Kay pushed away the thought and broke into an easy jog, keen to complete her route and get home before eight.
Raising her arm, she peered at the wristwatch’s screen and stopped the clock.
She wouldn’t beat her fastest time, not now.
Instead, she resolved to add an extra lap to increase her distance and build up the muscles that had fallen foul of too many long days, too many late nights in the incident room, and a tendency to fall asleep in front of the television when she got home.
Her top lip curled as a cramp threatened in her right calf.
Tonight was the first chance in a long time to relax, to ease back into her old routine. Despite the drab March weather, she smiled. It was the start of a new week with a couple of days off before her next rostered shift, and nothing in the diary.
It was only two months until she and her partner, Adam, were due to fly to Portugal for a holiday in May, and Kay was determined to squeeze into the denim shorts currently packed inside a dusty suitcase on top of her wardrobe along with her other summer clothing.
Running was a cure, as well as a cheap alternative to the extortionate fees some of the local gyms charged. She thrived on the time to herself, to let the day’s problems wash over her as she found her pace once more.
She crossed a mini roundabout and turned right, nodding to a man walking an elderly greyhound that eyed her swift movement with envy.
Zig-zagging through a gap in a wooden fence that bisected the road at the end of the housing estate, Kay used her sleeve to wipe moisture from her forehead and felt the incline in her knees as the street dipped down to the main road leading to the village green.
Almost there.
A siren wailed in the distance, closely followed by another and her heart rapped against her ribs in response when she recognised first a patrol car, and then the unmistakable sound of an ambulance in a hurry.
Exhaling, trying to lose the tension building in her chest, she turned left, away from the glow that shone through the windows of a pub a few hundred metres away, the scent of woodsmoke clinging to the thick air.
Another left, and she was on the home straight, following the narrow lane that preceded the housing estate. There were older homes here, and in the summer she loved walking past and admiring the thatched roofs and red-brick chimneys while absorbing the history of her surroundings.
Tonight, a renewed sense of urgency surged through her at the sound of a second police vehicle. The siren faded quickly, the fog softening the noise as quickly as it had appeared, smothering it as she reached the next mini roundabout.
She slowed as she turned into the stretch of lane where she lived.
When she reached the local pub and glanced through the windows as she passed, she noted the small crowd gathering in the front bar. A man’s laugh carried through the gloom towards her, and one of the smokers standing under the wooden gazebo outside – no more than a shadow – waved in greeting.
She pulled her mobile phone from its carry strap on her left arm, wondering if she should phone Adam and find out if he was almost finished at his veterinary practice for the evening, then groaned as she saw the blank screen.
‘Bloody hell.’
Ruing the optimism that the battery charge would last until she finished her run, she shoved it back into place and resolved to plug it in the moment she walked through her front door.
She wasn’t on call tonight, nor for the next two nights, but a sense of duty remained as she berated herself for the oversight. br />
Kay raised her hand to the group of smokers and decided to drag Adam back there after she had a chance to shower, a smile on her lips as she realised the irony of having a drink while trying to regain her fitness levels.
Slowing to a walk and stretching out her leg muscles to calm her heart rate, Kay peered over her shoulder at the sound of an approaching car and stepped onto the verge as blurry headlights rounded the corner and pierced the murky lane.
Long grass swept against her bare ankles, and she raised a hand to shield her eyes from the lights, choking out a snort of disgust as the driver roared past, clearly over the speed limit.
She stepped back out onto the lane and started to stretch her arm muscles, watching as the car braked heavily.
Its tail lights flared, red blobs that pixellated in the fog before the vehicle swerved to the right and stopped.
‘What are you up to?’ she muttered, a frown pinching her forehead.
A faint glow emanated through the back window, and then she heard a door slam before a silhouette of a man launched from the car. His shoes connected with the gravel driveway of the house beyond a low privet hedge and then he was out of sight, his footsteps moving with purpose.
An uneasiness crawled through Kay’s veins as she hurried towards the vehicle, a sense of foreboding creeping over her that sent a shiver of goosebumps racing across her skin.
She heard a fist pounding against a wooden door followed by a muffled voice carrying through the air.
Kay’s breath caught in her throat as she approached the car and recognised the licence plate from the pool of vehicles allocated to Maidstone police station.
The footsteps scuffed the gravel once more.
‘Guv?’
She spun at the familiar voice to see a spiky-haired man in his late twenties emerge from her driveway, his face troubled.
‘Gavin? What are you doing here? Isn’t Barnes on call tonight?’
‘He is, guv.’ The detective constable gestured towards the car and opened the passenger door. ‘I’m sorry guv, but he thought you’d want to know straight away so he told me to come and get you.’
‘Get me?’ Kay swallowed.
Her colleague’s features were grey in the faint light from the streetlamp opposite her house. She blinked away a sudden sensation that her world was tilting, and took a shaking breath.
‘Gav? What’s going on?’
‘You need to come with me, guv. There was an armed break-in at the vet practice, and Adam’s been rushed to hospital.’
Two
Kay watched helplessly as a porter approached the senior nurse managing the triage of patients flowing through the A&E department and nibbled at the corner of her thumbnail.
Her throat dry, she fought down the urge to cross to the desk and ask for another update despite the sickness that consumed her, despite the fear.
After approaching the information desk, she had been directed to a bank of chairs, row upon row of brightly coloured plastic seats that were bolted to the floor and resembled the same ones used in the Maidstone police station’s custody suite.
Blinking at the bright orange surface, she perched on the end of the second row, then craned her neck to see around a burly man in his thirties who swayed from side to side on the seat in front of her and mumbled incoherently under his breath.
Wrinkling her nose to evade the stench of alcohol emanating from him in waves, she willed her heart rate to slow.
The emergency room was packed, voices from relatives and friends tinged with fear as they waited for news of their loved ones, while hospital staff in different coloured overalls denoting their expertise hurried back and forth with harried expressions.
She exhaled, reminding herself that Adam was receiving the best care, that he was at least conscious when whisked away by the ambulance, and grateful that her colleagues were already processing the crime scene.
‘Kay.’
Turning at the sound of Gavin’s voice, she pushed herself to her feet as he paused beside her, his eyes searching the far end of the room where a gaggle of porters were gathered.
‘Any news?’
‘Nothing yet. They told me to wait over here.’ She hugged her arms around her chest, goosebumps freckling her exposed arms and legs before she turned to face the reception desk, her training shoes squeaking on the tiles.
‘Do you want me to get you a coffee or something, or a bottle of water, or…’
Gavin flapped his hands at his sides, and she noticed a damp patch on his jacket with traces of smeared blood at the edges.
‘No, that’s okay. Thanks.’
‘Let’s sit at the back – there’s no-one there, and it’ll be quieter.’
Kay followed meekly behind him, and checked over her shoulder towards the reception desk.
Would she hear them if they called out to her?
‘Here you go.’ Gavin was gesturing to two seats – blue this time – and waited until she sat. ‘I phoned Barnes. It sounds like it’s all under control that end.’
‘You’ve got some blood on your jacket.’
‘I tried to wash it out just now, but…’
‘What happened?’ She stared ahead, her gaze shifting from the cleaners and the porters that passed by in a blur.
Gavin exhaled. ‘From what we can gather, Adam was working late in his office at the back of the practice…’
‘It’s behind the consulting rooms. He likes to be on hand if anyone needs him.’
‘Right. His computer was on. He was writing––’
‘He’s got a deadline for a journal article that’s due at the end of the week…’ Her voice faded away as she realised she was babbling now, processing her shock.
‘They probably didn’t expect anyone to be there at that time of the evening,’ he said. ‘From what we could work out, they were after the anaesthetic drugs, painkillers, things like that.’
‘Ketamine hydrochloride and methadone hydrochloride,’ said Kay, dully. ‘They’re kept in a cabinet behind the door in Adam’s office for safekeeping. It’s locked.’
‘They took his keys, after they… after…’ Gavin broke off and bit his lip.
She uttered a shuddering sigh. ‘What did they do to him?’
‘He’d locked the front doors so they went around the back to the fire exit. They broke the window next to it––’
‘The one in the bathroom.’
‘Yes, and then made their way down the corridor to his office. We think he turned around as they walked in.’ Gavin shook his head. ‘He didn’t have time to react, Kay – sorry – guv. They hit him with something – wooden, we think. He was out cold when the ambulance got there, but he came around while I was with him, then again when they lifted him into the ambulance.’
‘Did he say anything?’
Gavin shook his head. ‘I didn’t catch it – sorry.’
Beside him, Kay choked back a whimper. ‘Who called it in?’
‘Stephanie, the receptionist. She’d left after the last appointment but forgot her mobile phone – she’d left it plugged into her computer, so she popped in on her way to meet a friend at the cinema. She phoned triple nine from the car park when she saw the broken window and Adam’s four-by-four outside.’
A shuddering breath escaped Kay. ‘If she hadn’t turned up––’
‘Yeah, but she did, guv – and the paramedics were there really quick. Me and Barnes were on the Sittingbourne Road when we got the shout so we got there within a few minutes, and they turned up just after us.’
Kay wrapped her arms around her chest while she listened.
‘Barnes is at the practice, guv. Stephanie stayed behind – she wanted to help, and Adam’s business partner––’
‘Scott.’
‘He turned up just as I was leaving to pick you up. Barnes wants me to stay with you while he’s processing the… the scene.’ He clamped his mouth shut, his cheeks flushing. ‘If that’s all right.’
‘Thanks,’ she
whispered.
Three
Detective Sergeant Ian Barnes paced the tiled floor of Turner’s Veterinary Practice and glared at a junior CSI who scurried past in protective booties.
It wasn’t the woman’s fault – the thief had been well-prepared, with his – or her – hands covered in disposable gloves and their face obscured with a balaclava.
The chances of finding anything to test against DNA records of prior convictions were rapidly disappearing.
He picked at the protective gloves covering his hands, the material damp against his warm skin and clinging to his palms while he eyed the computer equipment on the beech-coloured reception desk.
‘Whoever did this didn’t seem to be interested in any of that.’
A female voice jerked him from his thoughts, and he turned as a woman in her fifties approached.
She gave him a faint smile and handed him a steaming mug of coffee. ‘Thought you could all do with some refreshments. Instant, I’m afraid.’
‘Anything else, and they’d start wanting it at the station.’ Barnes winked, taking the hot drink from her. ‘Thanks, Stephanie. How are you holding up?’
‘As good as I can be in the circumstances.’ The receptionist’s eyes clouded as she followed his gaze to the desk. ‘They were after the drugs, weren’t they? I-I’ve heard about break-ins at other practices, but you always think it’s the sort of thing that happens to other people… not us.’