Deity Read Online Free PDF Page B

that’s not under control. Speak proper English if you know any. Oh, and one more thing, don’t ever call me Guv.’
    Brook laid a hand on Noble’s shoulder. ‘Easy, John. We’re not in the Met.’
    ‘Sorry,’ replied Noble. ‘But you saw that?’
    Brook looked at his DS. ‘I saw. And this is no drowning.’ He stood gazing at the bridge and began to walk down the path towards it.
    ‘Why so sure?’ asked Noble, moving to follow.
    Brookturned and smiled back at his DS. ‘Because he hasn’t got any lungs.’
    Brook stood on the bridge and looked over each wall in turn, down to the river bank on either side.
    ‘What are we looking for?’ Noble finally asked.
    ‘I’m not sure.’
    ‘But you’re sure the body was dumped from here.’
    ‘A man with no clothes and no lungs has to be dead before he hits the water. Someone’s transported him to the river and this bridge has to be the easiest spot to dump the body.’
    They looked down at the undergrowth on either side of the river for any sign of disturbance but could see nothing. Nor could they spot any clothing or bundles that might contain clothes. The two uniformed officers returning from the weir continued the search at ground level but Brook and Noble were unable to direct them to anything of interest.
    Across the fields their colleagues were working around the pale carcass on the plastic sheet, scraping, photographing and bagging head and feet. Another officer was erecting a screen to shield their activities from the occasional early morning jogger and dog walker.
    As time wore on, traffic began to increase and cars passed them in rotation on the single track road, depending on the traffic lights either side of the two bridges. On one rotation, Dr Higginbottom, the duty Police Surgeon, drove towards them and slowed down when he saw them. Noble indicated the dirt track which would take the doctor to the scene and he continued on with a wave.
    ‘Busy road,’ said Noble.
    ‘During the day,’ replied Brook.
    ‘Buteven if it was the middle of the night, assuming our John Doe was dumped from this bridge, someone took a massive gamble on not being seen by a passing car – especially if they were actually parked up on the bridge. I mean, it’s not wide.’
    Brook nodded. ‘You’re right. I wouldn’t take that chance but maybe they were desperate.’
    ‘They?’ enquired Noble.
    ‘Or he or she. But even a body that light needs lifting.’
    ‘It’s a low wall,’ observed Noble. ‘One person could do it, I reckon.’
    After a further few minutes of unproductive examination, the two detectives continued north towards the second bridge spanning the railway line. A dirt-track drive for a farmhouse set back out of sight from the road had a sign warning trespassers about CCTV cameras. Brook raised an eyebrow at Noble.
    ‘We’ll check it out.’
    ‘It’s probably for show, but
. . .
’ Brook shrugged.
    Crossing the railway bridge, the first houses of Station Road appeared. Jason Wallis, sole survivor of The Reaper’s attack on the Wallis family several years before, had lived briefly with his aunt further up the road. Brook tried to remember which house.
    ‘Didn’t young Wallis live on here?’ asked Noble.
    ‘I believe he did,’ Brook replied, but his mind had already moved on. He looked around, his gaze alighting on a stack of traffic cones on the pavement. ‘You were right, John. It is just one person. And he or she wasn’t desperate at all but very calm and rational.’ Noble looked at Brook, wondering if he was going to explain his reasoning. Instead, Brook walkedover to the cones, counted them then looked back down towards the river. ‘This road goes south past Elvaston Castle, right?’
    ‘Right.’
    ‘And beyond?’
    ‘Through Thulston, then on to Shardlow or the A50.’
    ‘And beyond the A50, the M1,’ Brook remembered. He returned his attention to the cones. ‘Make a note to check with the Highways Agency when they last did any