Dark Waters

DARK WATERS A DS KATE HAMILTON CRIME THRILLER GAYE MAGUIRE Published by Inkubator Books www.inkubatorbooks.com Copyright © 2023 by Gaye Maguire Gaye Maguire has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this work. ISBN (eBook): 978-1-83756-208-4 ISBN (Paperback): 978-1-83756-209-1 ISBN (Hardback): 978-1-83756-210-7 DARK WATERS is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher. CONTENTS Inkubator Books Prologue 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 Epilogue Inkubator Newsletter Thank You For Reading About the Author Also by Gaye Maguire JOIN THE INKUBATOR MAILING LIST You will be the first to learn about new releases plus the many FREE and discounted Kindle books we offer! bit.ly/3fPBwVA PROLOGUE TUESDAY APRIL 5, 2011 As dawn broke the young man sat in his car, looking eastwards out to sea. By eight o’clock the joggers, cyclists and dog-walkers began to arrive, breathing in the promise of spring in the bright April morning. Still he remained, eyes on the horizon, where a lumbering container ship awaited its tug-boat, looking for all the world like it was suspended in mid-air over the unusually calm waters of Dublin Bay. Soon the car park began to fill up as drivers vied for the few spaces available. Children spilled out of cars and ran towards the shore and the teeming rock pools ripe for exploring. After parking up, a stressed dad, vainly trying to hold on to two small kids and a dog, noticed the figure in the car. He envied the man his serenity, and his top of the range BMW. An hour later, as he strapped a wriggling child into her car-seat, he noticed that the figure was too still, too serene. No one could sit that still for so long. Unless… 1 TEN WEEKS EARLIER - SUNDAY JANUARY 23, 2011 - MIDNIGHT “There’s a girl! I think she’s going to kill herself.” The voice was shrill and panicky. “Do you require police, fire brigade or ambulance, caller?” “Oh God, I don’t know! Send them all. Send the coastguard as well; she’s going to do it.” “Can you give me your name and address, caller? And the nature and location of the incident?” “My name is Lucy Piper. I live in Bray. There’s a girl online, an Irish girl. She posted a video on YouTube. She’s really upset. I think she’s going to kill herself. She said she was going to the sea to do it. It’s somewhere in the Dublin area. Please, you have to do something. I think she’s serious.” “I’m dispatching units right now, Lucy. Please stay on the line. Do you know the person involved? Are you with her now? Has she told you she’s going to take her own life?” “She’s told the whole world! She posted a video on YouTube.” Alerting the Gardai, fire brigade and coastguard simultaneously, the emergency operator watched as the screens of her colleagues lit up, all at the same time. She realised there were multiple callers for the same incident. Standing up, she shouted over the other voices. “If it’s the girl who posted on YouTube, the Guards, coastguard and fire brigade are checking out all the main beaches in the Dublin area.” The room filled with the hubbub of voices reassuring multiple callers. The woman sat down, her face dark with worry, took out her mobile phone and logged on to YouTube. Maybe it’s a hoax. Social media is full of pranks, isn’t it? Please God, let it be a sick joke. * * * Two hours earlier The vodka tastes nasty on its own but she can stomach it with orange juice. Over the course of the evening she downs more than half of the litre bottle she’d bought on the way home from college. She has the house to herself. Her parents and younger brother are on an activity weekend in Connemara. She had cried off the trip, citing exam revision. She surveys her wardrobe with intensity. It has to be something special... the red gown she wore to her Deb’s Ball. It cost more than all the rest of her clothes put together. Mum had taken endless photos on the night of the ball, and invited friends round for prosecco to see her off. She’d felt like a supermodel as the full silk skirt swished around her. Everyone loved it, even the handsome but dull neighbour’s son who was her date for the night. He’d been a mistake, expecting her to sleep with him even though they’d barely spoken all evening and he’d gotten stupidly drunk in front of her friends. He looked good in the photos though, and that kind of mattered, back then. At two a.m. she’d gone home, leaving him asleep, head on the table, snoring softly among the empty glasses and discarded food. Now she applies her makeup at the dressing table. Her hand isn’t steady but it looks OK. Lots of waterproof mascara and a bright lip stain, the exact shade of her dress, a little blush on her slightly hollow cheeks. She’d lost weight in the last few months. Her mum had noticed and started prepping healthy packed lunches for her to take to uni. Mostly she couldn’t eat, but there was always someone around who’d gladly take the food off