The Teacher: A shocking and compelling new crime thriller – NOT for the faint-hearted!. Katerina Diamond
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done, but still trying. He heard the unmistakable sound of a crossbow being discharged, he knew that sound well and in the millisecond before it hit Ian sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes, everything moving in slow motion as he waited for his life to end; instead he just felt his body jolt forward as the bolt entered his shoulder. The leaves rustled behind him and the last thing he saw before he passed out was a pair of black boots steadily approaching.
Ian woke with a start as ice cold water hit his face. The first thing that struck him was that his wrists hurt, he regained enough focus to see that he was strung up between two trees, off the manmade path that ran through the forest, way off.
‘What do you want with me?’
‘Really? You need me to explain this to you?’
‘I’m not that person any more, I’ve changed,’ Ian pleaded, words sticking in his throat – he was so thirsty.
‘But I still am that person; you made me who I am, Ian … sorry … Mr Markham, sir.’ Venom spitting as he said the name.
‘Don’t call me that.’
‘Why not? You taught me so much, it’s only fair I show the respect you’re due.’
‘What about the others?’ Ian’s head dropped and he saw that his shirt was ripped open, he looked further down still and saw the blood dripping swiftly from his injured leg. ‘Why can’t I feel my leg?’
‘Time to be quiet now.’ The man walked towards Ian quickly and thrust a knife into the base of his stomach, Ian screamed as the knife was pulled across, but not from pain, he could feel everything but there was no pain. He watched the blood pumping out, then he felt the man’s hand as it reached inside him, fingers moving, searching for something, he could feel it all, but still no pain.
‘What the fuck have you done to me?!’
‘I gave you an anaesthetic to help with the pain, a spinal injection. I don’t want you passing out; you have to watch the show.’ He pulled out a thin bloody tube from Ian’s stomach, the lower intestine. ‘Congratulations, it’s a boy.’
That’s when Ian saw the crank, he watched as the man attached his lower intestine to a hook and then walked over to a long metal pole that ran vertical parallel to him. He turned a wheel that was attached to the pole, which began to rotate slowly on some kind of mechanism, gathering up the line attached to the hook and wrapping it around the pole, followed by Ian’s insides, covering the large metal stick like a candy floss. He stopped and picked up his crossbow, and started to walk away.
‘You can’t leave me here, the foxes will have me.’
‘You better pray they finish you in less than eight hours, that’s how long you have until the drugs wear off!’
‘You’re sick!’ Ian shouted, but then emotion took him over and he began to cry, aware that the darkness was almost upon him. Suddenly a white-collar prison wasn’t looking so bad. He knew if they came looking for him at the house they would find his reservations for the plane to go to South America and just assume that he had done a bunk, which was in fact precisely what he was planning on doing. No one would look for him and people rarely ventured into these woods, so the chance of someone happening by within the next hour or so was next to impossible. He watched as his only hope of survival disappeared into the forest. He was alone, all hope was gone.
The Widow
‘Come on, then, we’re up.’ Grey slammed a lukewarm cup of coffee on the desk in front of Adrian. She groaned and drank the contents of her own mug with a contorted grimace on her face. ‘Some woman keeps calling about her husband, said he’s gone missing and cleared out all her accounts.’
‘And that’s the reason I’m never getting married.’
‘Sure it is.’ Grey pulled Adrian’s chair backwards so his feet slid off the desk on to the floor. ‘Come on, I’ll get you some real coffee on the way.’
‘OK fine, goddamnit.’ Adrian pulled himself out of his chair, his head still throbbing after the many shots he had downed the night before. ‘You should probably drive.’
‘I should definitely drive.’ She snatched the keys from his hand.
Despite Adrian’s first impression of DS Grey she was surprisingly motivated – scratch that, annoyingly motivated. Any case, regardless of whether it was some illegal fly-tipping or a serious violent assault, was awarded the exact same amount of professionalism and attention. They had worked together for three weeks now, settled into their respective roles within the relationship. Adrian let her boss him around and she let him be the butt of all her jokes, everyone was happy. This was the first female partner Adrian had ever had, he had worked with both DS Mike Daniels and DS Jonathan Fraser in the past, and he had never really been much of a team player. He knew that this time he had to play the game. He was under the microscope and he couldn’t afford to make any more enemies. Besides, Grey was easy to work with, somehow they just fit.
In the unmarked police car Adrian put his shades on and rested his head against the window, a position he would soon regret. Grey drove as if she were in hot pursuit of a bank robber, pedal to the metal. You could get away with that kind of driving in the city but in this part of the Devonshire countryside you may as well just cut out the middle man and drive straight into a ditch.
‘Jesus, don’t they have country lanes in Plymouth?’ Adrian felt something twang in his neck. ‘You are giving me whiplash.’
‘Quit being such a baby, Miley, you are fine.’
‘What’s your hurry? The only other case we have on at the moment is the lawnmower theft.’
‘I want to clock off early today, I’ve got a date.’
‘Seriously? I thought you were a … what’s the word for a female with no privates, not a eunuch?’
‘Please stop thinking about my junk, Miley.’ She swerved into the driveway and they were confronted with a large art deco house.
‘What a dump!’ Adrian muttered.
‘How the other half lives.’
On the luxurious cream velvet sofa the lady sniffed into her tissue, her eyes puffy and red.
‘He calls me every day, well, he used to.’
‘And he just stopped?’ Adrian asked as Grey wandered around the room, fingers hovering above every surface. It was so clean and shiny, it looked like a show home, every item carefully placed and the only personal effects an alarming array of cat ornaments.
‘Yes, he stopped. I haven’t heard from him in well over a week.’
‘But you’re separated?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Do you know anyone who would want to harm your husband?’
‘Besides me, you mean?’
‘It was a bad break-up?’
‘It was and there’s a long list of people who want to hurt Ian, he stole money, a lot of money from a lot of people. The auditors are still neck deep in the mess he left behind.’
‘How much money are we talking?’
‘Thousands? Millions? Who knows?’
Grey finally sat down next to Adrian and leaned back into the deep sofa until she was almost horizontal. He half expected her to put her feet on the coffee table, but instead she folded her arms and stared at Deborah Markham.
‘You have to appreciate what this looks like,’ Grey said.
‘I know what it looks like, I’m