The Denes Park Killings

THE DENES PARK KILLINGS An absolutely heart-pounding crime thriller C.J. GRAYSON DI Max Byrd & DI Orion Tanzy Book 2 Originally published as Never Came Home Revised edition 2023 Joffe Books, London www.joffebooks.com First published in Great Britain in 2020 as Never Came Home © C.J. Grayson 2020, 2023 This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The spelling used is British English except where fidelity to the author’s rendering of accent or dialect supersedes this. The right of C.J. Grayson to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. We love to hear from our readers! Please email any feedback you have to: [email protected] Cover art by Nebojša Zorić ISBN: 978-1-83526-007-4 CONTENTS Love Free Bestselling Fiction? Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 Love Free Bestselling Fiction? The Joffe Books Story Also by C.J. Grayson A Selection of Books You May Enjoy Glossary of English Usage for US Readers Love Free Bestselling Fiction? Join our mailing list and get a FREE Kindle book from a bestselling author every week! Click here to join our mailing list and also get a free box set of short stories! Follow us on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram @joffebooks Prologue Thank you for choosing this book. Join our mailing list and get FREE Kindle books from our bestselling authors every week! CLICK HERE TO GET MORE LOVELY BOOK DEALS Saturday morning, February Stanhope Park, Darlington As DI Max Byrd pulled up in his BMW X5 at the side of the park, he noticed DI Orion Tanzy’s Golf already there, its white glossy paintwork glistening under the overhanging street lights nearby. Smiling thinly, he accepted another loss in their small battle regarding who arrived at the scene first; they both put great emphasis on the importance of being punctual. Byrd yawned as he opened the door and stepped out into the bitter cold. The ground was dry, but a thin layer of frost had started to develop. It made a change not being wet with all the unusually heavy rainfall over the previous few days. Rivers had overflowed. Drains had clogged up, not being able to withstand the relentless downpours. But finally, a dry day for Darlington — albeit still freezing. Byrd, dressed in his long black coat, black jeans, and black shoes, stepped around the back of his car, up onto the path, and through the entrance of Stanhope Park. Up ahead, he saw them in the darkness. From the small crowd, he could make out Tanzy, standing beside Jacob Tallow, the senior forensic officer. He was accompanied by the other senior forensic officer, Emily Hope. Both of them were dressed in their familiar white disposable overalls and white face masks. As he got closer, Tanzy glanced his way. ‘You made it,’ said Tanzy. ‘Sorry I woke you.’ Byrd caught the overshoes Tanzy threw at him and tiredly put them on. He bowed under the barrier tape and joined him. Byrd watched the tall, thin senior forensic, Tallow. ‘How long do you think she’s been there?’ ‘A good few hours, Max; she’s stone cold,’ he replied, crouching down near the body. Byrd, from a few feet away, looked down on her. The dead woman was positioned on her right side, her left arm down in front of her face. She looked peaceful in a strange way, as if she was sleeping. ‘What do you think happened?’ Byrd asked, noticing the cloudy saliva around her mouth, under her chin, and around the floor under her face. ‘She’s clearly vomited. I wouldn’t like to say for definite but most likely a drug overdose.’ ‘Who called it in?’ Tanzy indicated a man standing with PC Weaver, bordering on his early twenties. From what Tanzy and Byrd could see, he couldn’t seem to keep still, constantly fidgeting and shivering in the early-morning frost. He didn’t look very tall but towered over PC Weaver. ‘He called it in, said she’d gone missing from the party,’ Tanzy informed him. ‘Everyone assumed she was somewhere in the house. After a while, people started to get worried and went out looking for her. And that’s when he found her.’ ‘Where was the party?’ Tanzy pointed south. ‘Swinburne Road. She was dead when the ambulance got here. They did what they could but . . .’ He fell silent for a moment. ‘Do the paramedics think a drug overdose, too?’ Byrd asked. ‘They think it’s very possible but aren’t ruling out other possibilities.’ ‘We’re taking the samples we need and will take her to the morgue,’ Tallow informed him, overhearing their conversation. ‘I’ve spoken with Dr Hemsley about it.’ ‘Is he awake?’ ‘He was when I phoned him,’ said Tallow. ‘We’ll do further tests back at the lab and give you a better picture soon enough.’ ‘Okay . . .’ Byrd drifted off and had a good look around. A red taxi speeding down Stanhope Road caught his attention, no doubt taking a customer home after a wild Friday night in town. Byrd remembered those days, the days of no responsibility and worries. When the biggest choice he had to make was what outfit to wear. ‘First impressions, Max?’ Tanzy asked him. Byrd curled his lip but stayed silent in thought. He glanced towards the young, anxious lad who