by Ray Green
Identity Found
Contents
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
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Ray Green
Also by Ray Green
Buyout – A Roy Groves Thriller (1)
For five ordinary guys and one rather extraordinary woman, the only escape from the corporate rat-race is to buy the company they’re working for: take it all to a new level, save hundreds of jobs and make some serious money.
But it quickly becomes clear that nothing is as easy as it seems. The bid is quickly undercut as twisted corporate politics and personal vendettas take over.
When the buyout becomes all or nothing for the management buyout team, it all spins out of control: marriages fall apart, lurid secrets are discovered; life savings are spent on the stock market; illegal insider dealing becomes a matter of fact; and blackmail, theft, betrayal and manipulation are the new rules of the game.
A once-in-a-life-time opportunity turns into a lurid nightmare.
BUYOUT is a gripping and compulsive page-turner about the power of money to unveil the deepest in human nature. It’s also a story about chasing one extraordinary dream. At an extraordinary price.
Also by Ray Green
Payback – A Roy Groves Thriller (2)
Roy Groves is Operations Director of a successful company manufacturing dashboard instruments for luxury cars.
A fatal motorway fire is traced back to a fault in the product supplied by Roy’s company. Was it a tragic accident or something more sinister? As Roy and his colleagues battle to establish the cause of the fire, and save the company from bankruptcy, they discover that they have been the victims of sabotage.
Eventually, it emerges that an old enemy of Roy and the rest of the team has reappeared and is intent on destroying the company and every member of its management team. Once just a business adversary, their nemesis is now so consumed with hatred that he is on the edge of insanity; he resorts to blackmail and even murder in the pursuit of his goal.
PAYBACK is a chilling tale of how hatred can twist and corrupt the human soul.
Also by Ray Green
Chinese Whispers – A Roy Groves Thriller (3)
Chuck Kabel is on a business trip to China, visiting the factory to which his UK-based company subcontracts the manufacture of its products. He unexpectedly collapses and dies at the airport before he is able to report on his visit. When the Chinese authorities are evasive about the exact cause of death, the suspicions of his boss, Roy Groves, are raised.
Roy decides to investigate further; it soon becomes clear that there are serious financial irregularities within the Chinese company, and that dark forces are in play, intent on ensuring that these do not come to light. When Roy edges closer to uncovering the truth, he is warned off but refuses to back down, unaware that he is about to confront the Chinese Mafia, who will stop at nothing to achieve their objectives.
When his own family are targeted by his opponents, Roy embarks on a desperate battle to protect them, now well aware that if he should turn to the police, their lives will be in even greater danger.
CHINESE WHISPERS is a frightening tale of organised crime and the way in which it uses and abuses legitimate business for its own illegal purposes, relentlessly destroying the lives of anyone who stands in the way.
Also by Ray Green
Horizontal Living: A Tale of Expats Abroad - A Roy Groves Thriller (4)
Roy Groves has led a colourful career in business, during which he battled with corporate politics, deception, and even vicious criminals. But now Roy has retired and he is looking forward to a quieter life. He and his wife, Donna, have bought an apartment in an exclusive development on Spain’s Costa del Sol.
He soon learns, however, that there are financial problems: the community is, in effect, bankrupt. Roy is persuaded to take on the role of President of the community, confident that, with his extensive business experience, he should easily be able to sort things out. It soon becomes clear, however, that nothing is as simple as it seems. As he tries to come up with a rescue plan, Roy discovers that a poorly-constructed retaining wall has begun to collapse, threatening the development with a landslide. And this is just the start …
As the problems mount up, Roy becomes entangled with an astonishingly diverse cast of characters: the devious building developer; the vengeful former President; the Russian prostitute, and her mafia minders; the deranged Middle-Eastern doctor; the devastatingly glamorous French girl next door; and many more ...
HORIZONTAL LIVING is an illuminating insight into the shenanigans which pervade an ex-pat community abroad: sometimes hilarious, sometimes hard to believe, but sometimes darkly disturbing.
Also by Ray Green
Lost Identity - The Identity Thrillers Series – Book 1
When research scientist, Stephen Lewis, wakes from a coma in a Miami hospital bed, he remembers nothing about his head injury, how he came to be in Florida, or even who he really is.
As fragments of his memory return, Stephen is shocked to find that even those closest to him seem not to know him. And when another man turns up, claiming to be the real Stephen Lewis, he begins to doubt his own sanity.
Desperate to learn the truth, Stephen is unwittingly drawn into a murky web of drug trafficking and murder. At its heart lies a terrifying conspiracy and a secret so appalling that, even if he survives, he knows his life can never be the same again.
Identity Found
The Identity Thrillers – Book 2
By Ray Green
Published in Great Britain by Mainsail Books in 2019
First Edition
Copyright © Ray Green 2019
Ray Green has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination, unless otherwise stated, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author, nor to be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
ISBN 978-1-9999406-3-8
&nbs
p; Published by Mainsail Books
www.mainsailbooks.co.uk
Cover design by Ana Grigoriu-Voicu
[email protected]
Chapter 1
New York City – A Friday Afternoon in April
Julia Turner was feeling upbeat as she shut down her laptop and prepared to leave the office. Just twenty-four years old, she had recently landed her dream job as an investigative journalist at the New York Times. That was six months ago, and so far, she was enjoying every moment of her new job. So far, she had only been given fairly mundane assignments, but that was only to be expected while she was still a rookie, learning her craft. The bigger, more exciting projects would come in time.
But perhaps she wouldn’t have to wait too long. While working on her current assignment, she had stumbled across something big – something that might turn out to be very big indeed. She had wondered whether she should involve one of her senior colleagues, but Julia was ambitious, and she wanted to make quite sure that when this story was cracked open, she would be the one to get the credit. This could catapult her fledgling career right into the fast lane, and there was no way she was going to pass up that opportunity. No, until it was time to inform the police of her findings, she was going to run this one on her own.
As she gathered her things together and put them in her purse, she glanced around the open-plan office, with its tightly packed rows of desks, noting that quite a few people had already gone home. She checked her watch: 7.05 p.m. It was rather later than she would normally work on a Friday; she must have been so engrossed in the case that she had lost track of time. Now there just wasn’t enough time to go home and change before meeting her boyfriend, Mark, for dinner at eight. She reopened her purse, withdrawing a hairbrush and makeup compact. She dabbed a little powder on her face before pulling the brush through her long, wavy, black tresses, checking the results of her efforts in the small mirror attached to the inside of the lid of her compact. A deft application of lipstick and a couple of squirts of perfume around her neck completed the running maintenance. That would have to do.
She replaced everything in her purse before glancing out of the window, to see the golden orb of the late-afternoon sun reflecting off the windows of the building opposite. It had been a glorious spring day, which had completely passed her by while she was ensconced in the office. The restaurant was only just over a mile away, right in the heart of Central Park. She had plenty of time, so she decided to forgo a cab and, instead, take a gentle walk. Slipping into her jacket and slinging her purse over her shoulder, she stepped out of the office and into the corridor, making for the elevator which would take her down to ground level.
As she stepped out of the climate-controlled environment of the building – an unchanging seventy-one degrees Fahrenheit, sixty per cent relative humidity, summer or winter, rain or shine – she took a deep breath of the cooler, fresher air outside. She gazed up at the towering buildings around her; the last rays of sunlight still glinted off the upper-floor windows of some of them, but down at street level, everything was enveloped in the shadows cast by these massive edifices.
She walked the short distance into Times Square; it buzzed and hummed with life. Although there was still a little daylight left, all the brightly-coloured lights on the towering billboards were illuminated now, dancing and pulsing as they competed for the attention of the throng milling below. Julia never tired of this spectacle, which seemed to her to encapsulate the very essence of New York City – a restless, vibrant cauldron of energy. It was a far cry from the sleepy little town in Maine where she had grown up. She made her way across the square, savouring the sights, sounds, and smells of this life-affirming scene, finally passing by Carnegie Hall as she neared the entrance to Central Park.
She smiled as her thoughts turned to her dinner date with Mark. She had first met him around eighteen months earlier when her car had suffered a puncture on a busy highway, and a passing police car had stopped to help. As soon as Mark stepped up to the window of her car she was immediately drawn to his sparkling blue eyes and infectious smile. As he set about changing her wheel for her, his easy humour and soft, but rich voice captivated her. It seemed the feeling was mutual for, by the time she was ready to continue her journey, they had exchanged telephone numbers and Julia had vowed to buy him dinner as a thank you. Well, the ‘thank you’ extended well beyond dinner and they saw each other twice more within a week. It wasn’t long before the relationship developed into a deep love affair.
It was a little unusual for Mark to suggest eating out on a Friday evening. Often Mark’s shift times would not accommodate this, and even when they did, Julia was usually exhausted come Friday evening, so they would, more commonly, settle for a takeout, curled up in front of a movie at his place. So what was special about tonight? She had a bit of an idea, but could she dare to hope that she was right?
***
Mark Bowman sat at a table by the window of the Loeb Boathouse restaurant, in the heart of Central Park, gazing out over the lake, its surface bathed in the dying rays of the Spring sunshine. A raft of ducks began making their way lazily across the lake towards whatever spot they had chosen to spend the night, their slowly spreading wake disturbing the mirror-smooth surface. He glanced at his watch: 7.40 p.m. He was ridiculously early, having arranged to meet Julia at eight, but tonight of all nights, he didn’t want to risk the possibility of her arriving first and having to sit on her own waiting for him.
He took from his pocket a small, deep red, fabric-covered box, flipping it open to reveal a sparkling diamond solitaire ring, nestling in the black velvet lining. He hoped he had the size right; he had borrowed one of her other rings and taken it to the jewellers to have it measured, but she wore that one on her right hand. There was no telling whether the ring finger on her left hand would be the same size. The jeweller had, however, assured him that the size could be adjusted up or down if necessary. He took a nervous sip of his beer before closing the box and returning it to his pocket.
He glanced around the restaurant, which looked to be about three-quarters full, with more guests still arriving; it was a good thing he had booked in good time. This had been the venue for their first dinner date – the one Julia had treated him to as a thank you for his help with her puncture. He smiled as he thought back to that evening, which had suffered none of the awkwardness or tension which so often characterises a first date; it was as if they had known each other for years. And when they had gone back to his place for a ‘nightcap’ the lovemaking had been so easy, so natural, so passionate, that he just knew, right from that day, Julia was ‘the one’. It seemed only fitting that this should also be the setting where he would ask her to be his wife. But what if she wasn’t ready to make that commitment? All the signs were there, and it wasn’t as if he had rushed things, yet …
He took another sip of his beer and checked his watch again: 7.55 p.m. She would be arriving any moment; now he was nervous as hell.
***
As Julia stepped into Central Park, and away from the shadows of the Manhattan skyscrapers, she was finally able to feel the very last kiss of the Spring sunshine on her skin. Another few minutes, though, and the sun would be gone. Even so, the temperature was still pleasant enough. The park wasn’t as busy as she would have expected on such a fine evening: just a few couples out walking, some teenagers scooting around on skateboards, and one or two joggers. She checked her watch: 7.35 p.m. She still had plenty of time, and she didn’t want to arrive too early, so she decided to take a longer route, using the smaller, less-direct paths.
She set off, in the rapidly fading light, down a narrow path she knew well. Now there were hardly any other people around, and before long, none at all. The silence was punctuated only by occasional birdsong as the creatures settled down for the night. The temperature was dropping rapidly now, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. As the last vestiges of sunlight disappeared, she realised that this little-used path had very meagre ligh
ting, the lampposts spaced far more widely apart than on the main thoroughfares. In a few fleeting moments her contented mood evaporated as the silence and isolation began to unsettle her. She pulled her jacket a little closer around her neck and quickened her step. She was no longer concerned about arriving at the restaurant too early and now just wanted to get there as quickly as possible.
She heard something: it sounded like the rhythmic thudding of distant feet pounding on the pavement somewhere behind her. The sound became gradually louder; for some reason this sound unsettled her even more than the silence which had preceded it. She turned to look: coming toward her, at a very brisk clip, was a young, Lycra-clad woman, wearing headphones and holding one of those water bottles shaped to provide a handgrip. As she sped past Julia, she flashed a breathless smile and muttered some sort of greeting which Julia could not discern. Julia silently chided herself for her foolishness and continued on her way. She was only about ten minutes from the restaurant now. She hurried on, anxious to leave this gloomy path behind her and reach the comforting light and warmth of the restaurant.
After a few more minutes, she heard another sound behind her: a sort of rustling noise which she could not identify. Instead of turning to check what it was, she pressed on a little faster still. The rustling noise faded away, and she began to relax a little. But then she heard something else: footsteps – yes, definitely footsteps this time. They seemed to be speeding up to match her pace. Now her heart began to race. Why on earth had she chosen this quiet path, especially as it was now almost completely dark?