The Eyes of the Accused: A dark disturbing mystery thriller (The Ben Whittle Investigation Series Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

investigator.’
    ‘Thanks. I’ll bear that in mind when I’m tossing and turning at night thanks to Penghilly’s Farm.’
    Geoff didn’t seem in a sympathetic mood. ‘You’ve got to let that go. It’s over now. Move on.’
    Ben didn’t think it would ever be over. Terrible memories of that place would haunt him forever. Edward Ebb would stalk him until his dying day.
    Geoff winked at Maddie. ‘Take a pin with you and give him a jab when he flags.’
    Maddie smiled.
    Ben didn’t. He excused himself and went to the toilet. If his father had experienced a hatpin being jabbed into the soles of his feet by Edward Ebb, he might not be so flippant with his remarks.

Chapter Five
     
    Hannah Heath didn’t know how long she’d been incarcerated in her stinking basement prison; there was no natural light to allow her to distinguish between night and day. But the swell of her stomach told her that the baby wasn’t far away from being born. She lay on an airbed, staring at ceiling. A solitary lightbulb cast an eerie glow across the room, turning shadows into figures. Dark entities with sinister poses. Animals baring huge sharp teeth. A vulture waiting for her to die so as it could strip her flesh and reduce her body to nothing but a memory.
    The baby moved inside her. A tiny life dependent on its mother. But Hannah could never nurture it. Never watch it grow. Never even hold it. She reached down and caressed her tummy, as if casting her hands over the most delicate crystal ball in the world. She wanted to tell the baby how sorry she was. That she loved it more than anything else in the world. But words seemed as empty and hollow as the stinking basement.
    Her tummy felt fit to burst. Skin stretched tight. Veins running across its surface like tiny red rivers. There was a bottle of Bio oil at home in the medicine cabinet, along with her folic acid tablets. A woman had to watch out for iron deficiency and stretch marks – in the normal world.
    Hannah had made about a dozen plans to escape, all of which had seemed reasonable until you factored in the fact that she was pregnant and about as nimble as an elephant. One idea that had merited a certain level of excitement was to fake a miscarriage. Take away the one thing her captor wanted. But it soon became apparent that she could never get away with it. For starters, she would need blood. And a fair bit of it, too. And what she was supposed to do with the bump in her belly? Breathe in? 
    Another idea, a slight improvement on some of the others, was to feign illness. A stomach virus. One that might threaten the baby. This had seemed good enough to run with. Perhaps her captor might panic. Take her to a hospital or get a doctor to call at the house. Her initial optimism had been crushed within a day of declaring her illness. She’d been put on a diet of bottled water and porridge and told to take regular exercise to help keep her body in shape.
    How had she been dumb enough to expect otherwise? The only way out of here was in a coffin. No, not a coffin. She wouldn’t be afforded such dignity. Perhaps a refuse sack. Buried out in Hadley Woods or tossed over a bridge into the river. No one would ever find her. Her family would have no grave to attend. Nowhere to go to and pay their respects. Lay flowers. Just a huge black hole in their lives.
    She tried not to think about dying, but it was like trying not to think about food when you were starving hungry. Sometimes she would dream she was out of the basement. Walking across a lush green stretch of grass. Or the soft golden sands of a beautiful beach. Always bare foot. The wind in her hair. The sun on her face. It was such a wonderful feeling not to be walking on the ragged concrete floor. But dreams were cruel. They leaked into your waking hours and taunted you with their whispers of freedom. 
    As soon as the baby was born, she would be murdered and erased from the world. Life would go on. The sun would still rise in the