by Adam Croft
62
Although she’d been signed off by the doctor later that morning, it wasn’t until seven o’clock that she was finally discharged and allowed to leave the hospital. By the time they got home, the boys were already knackered from their early start and long day, so Caroline flaked out on the sofa while Mark put them to bed upstairs. She’d barely settled in when the doorbell rang.
She got up, opened the door and was surprised to see Detective Superintendent Derek Arnold standing on her doorstep.
‘Evening. Hope I’m not disturbing you. I heard you’d been sent home, so wanted to see how you were.’
‘Yeah, I’m alright. You know how it is. Come in,’ she said, looking forward to sitting back on the sofa again, rather than spending the next few minutes standing at the door.
‘You’ve got a week off — more if you need it and the doctors tell you to. Just so you know, you’ll be invited to a meeting with me when you get back. And yes, I will be giving you a proper dressing down. Got to be like that on paper, anyway.’
‘And what about not on paper?’
‘Well, you’re not losing your job if that’s what you’re asking. I think it’ll probably be an official warning, but again, that’s on paper. Between you and me, yes, I think it was a bloody stupid idea to do what you did, but I can see why you did it.’
‘Honestly, we wouldn’t have caught him otherwise. I genuinely believe that.’
‘I know. I’m sure it’ll all come out in the wash. But that’s not to say changes don’t need to be made. I think you and I both know this hasn’t been handled in the best way. Product of the system, perhaps. But systems are there to be changed and improved.’
Caroline felt a surge of dread in the pit of her stomach.
‘You’re not suggesting all major crimes go through EMSOU, are you?’
‘No. No, of course not. At least, that’s not my intention. There are others who might disagree with that, though. That’s why you’re probably going to have to explain your actions to a panel and undergo some sort of extra training.’
She dearly wanted to remind him that she’d been a senior investigating officer in the Met and had more experience dealing with major crimes than every officer in Rutland combined, but it didn’t seem worth the hassle. She was happy to have kept hold of her job. For her, that was the main thing.
‘We’ll probably have to work a little more closely, you and I,’ Arnold said. ‘We definitely don’t need a loose cannon knocking about. Not with people leaning down our necks from up above, not to mention EMSOU. I know you do a good job. I know Smallwood would have died an innocent man if you hadn’t done what you did. But we’ve still got to make sure things are done properly. By the book, if you like.’
‘On paper, at least?’
Arnold smiled. ‘Yes. On paper, at least.’
63
Once Derek Arnold had gone, Caroline and Mark sat back down.
‘Would you like a drink?’ Mark asked.
‘God, yes please.’
‘I imagine you’ll want something a bit stronger tonight.’
‘Definitely.’
‘Actually, I think there’s a bottle of gin in the kitchen. I’ll go and grab that.’
‘Oh. No. Maybe not that. On second thoughts, let’s just stick to wine.’
When Mark had come back with a bottle and two glasses, Caroline decided she needed to get straight to the point. There was no point delaying things any further. He’d waited long enough. She’d spent the whole day trying to think of words that might work, rolling them around in her mind, trying her hardest to put her thoughts together in a coherent stream that he might understand. But she didn’t know if he ever would.
She hoped she hadn’t done too much damage. She couldn’t change the fact she’d hidden her illness from him, and lying about that would only make things worse. Now was the time for honesty. With any luck, they’d be able to draw a line under what had happened and move forward.
‘Mark, I need to tell you something. I’ve not been well recently. For quite a while, actually. I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. I should have. But the longer it went on, the harder it was. That’s why I wasn’t at work that day when you brought my lunch in. It’s why I’ve been sick sometimes. And tired. And irritable. But it’s being sorted. I’ll be alright.’
Mark nodded slowly. ‘When you say not well…’
‘Cancer. Ovarian. They caught it early, though. They’re confident.’ She looked up at Mark and could see the colour had drained from his face. ‘I wanted to tell you, but there was so much going on and all I wanted to do was protect you. Honestly, the only thing on my mind was you and the boys. Nothing else. Nothing at all. It was stupid of me, I know, but I thought I could get it sorted without worrying you or anyone else. I know it sounds ridiculous to say it now, but it’s true. I didn’t want to hurt any of you. I just wanted you all to be happy and not worry. I thought I could sort it out on my own.’
‘How long have you known?’ he whispered.
Caroline could see the hurt on his face and she knew it would take some time for them to rebuild. But it was out there now. She’d been honest. She’d opened up and told him the truth. For her, that was a huge step forward.
She opened her mouth and began to talk. A few minutes later, she closed her eyes and waited for his response. She’d told him everything. Nearly everything.
On Borrowed Time
Book #2 in the Rutland crime series
Each morning, the first train of the day leaves Oakham station and thunders through a tunnel under the village of Manton. But today the driver sees something that changes his life: A dead body hangs in the tunnel's exit.
DI Caroline Hills knows this isn't a suicide. It's murder. And when a second apparent suicide appears in Rutland, Caroline uncovers a shocking link: the victims knew each other.
As Rutland Police fight to catch the killer, a group of friends is left with an even more shocking realisation. One of them is the murderer. And one of them will be the next to die.
‘Incredible’ — BBC News
‘A sensation’ — The Guardian
Out 29th September 2020
Click here to pre-order your copy now
Acknowledgments
Well, you either stuck through it to the end or you’ve skipped to this page in an attempt to find out who the killer is without having to read it. If it’s the former, thank you. If it’s the latter, my apologies; you need to flick back a few pages.
I should make an admission. Rutland Police doesn’t actually exist. There. I’ve said it. My dirty secret is out. In reality, crime in Rutland (of which there is very little) is dealt with admirably and very capably by Leicestershire Police, who maintain small departments in Oakham and Uppingham, one of which I have shamelessly re-appropriated as a much more in-depth headquarters for my fictional Rutland Police.
In fact, I’ve taken many liberties when it comes to the policing and procedure, as I do in most of my books. There’s an old adage I can’t be bothered to Google that basically says it’s better to learn everything and choose what not to use than to go in ignorantly. When it comes to police procedure and detail that I’ve learnt and chosen not to use — or, more likely, forgotten — I owe a great debt of thanks to the numerous serving and ex-police officers who have helped me over the years and continue to do so now.
Much of my policing knowledge has come from David Parry, a former detective with Leicestershire Police, who helped me get my procedure on track many years before I ever imagined setting a book on his doorstep.
More recently, my friend and ex-Chief Superintendent Graham Bartlett has got me out of numerous holes and suggested a number of ways in which I could improve the police procedure and, ultimately, stories I write.
To those serving police officers who’d rather remain nameless but are nonetheless incredibly patient and helpful in response to my endless text messages and daft questions, thank you.
The fact is real-l
ife policing is actually quite dull. I’m well aware no-one wants to read books about huge teams of people doing endless shift work, suffering office politics and growing piles of paperwork (and if you do, you really must get a life). Of course, story must win out. I hope I’ve at least managed to nail that bit.
Writing a book which is heavily location-based is always a challenge, especially when you don’t live in the area you’re writing about. Doing so under a government lockdown due to a global pandemic makes it a touch trickier still. Being unable to visit Rutland whilst writing this book certainly provided me with a challenge, and if I’ve come close to meeting it, praise should certainly not be directed at me.
My unwavering thanks on that front must go to everyone who’s helped me from afar, answering inane questions about gates, footpaths and countless other minutiae concerning Rutland. In no particular order, these are:
Jill Kimber, Robert Ovens and everyone else at the Rutland Local History & Record Society for the wealth of information they provided me. At this point, I must stress that the Rutland Local History & Record Society is a wonderful, esteemed and incredibly helpful bunch of people, and is an entirely separate entity from the fictional history society mentioned in this book. The Rutland Local History & Record Society has, so far as I know it, no murderers among its ranks, nor should murderers be encouraged to join (although membership is a very reasonable £14 a year, or just £16 for your entire murderous family).
In all seriousness, the RLH&RS is an absolutely superb organisation and a wonderful group of people, and anyone with even a passing interest in the history of Rutland should absolutely become a member.
Jonathan Young, Anglian Water’s manager at Rutland Water, was a great help in giving me ideas for how my killer could access Normanton Church under cover of darkness. Thank you, Jonathan.
To the Reverend Canon Leo Osborn for having been willing — but unable — to appear as a character in this book due to his retirement from the clergy, which would have left me looking rather daft had I not realised. Thank you.
To everyone in Rutland who’s expressed such a keen enthusiasm for this series, I really cannot thank you enough. Your passion and interest spurs me on more than you’ll ever know, and I hope beyond anything else that I’ve done your part of the world justice.
I’m sure I’ve forgotten many of you, but I’m going to have a crack at it anyway. Huge thanks to Beverley Graham for her local knowledge and contacts; to Matt Smith, Ady Dayman, Sophie Price, Namrata Varia and Ben Jackson from BBC Radio Leicestershire; Rob Persani and Jennifer Lee from Rutland Radio; Kerry Coupe — editor of the Rutland & Stamford Mercury; Darren Greenwood from Oakham Nub News and Sue Parslow from The Village Diary magazine for their enthusiasm and keenness to help promote the series.
Huge thanks to all the local business owners and shopkeepers who’ve been in touch, keen to stock the series and help promote it. In no particular order, and doubtless missing plenty of names because there are still emails coming in as I write this (and I’ve got to send it off now), thanks to Tim Walker at Walkers bookshop in Oakham and Stamford; Robin Carter at Hygge; and Kristy, Chris, Katie and everyone at the Wisteria Hotel.
Thanks also to Joe Lloyd, a real-life Oakham police officer for providing some laughs and chuckles on Twitter. I’ll make sure you get at least a strong cameo in the series!
I must also thank my mum and dad, firstly for introducing me to Rutland and subsequently costing me an arm and a leg in petrol every fortnight, and secondly for putting up with my incessant ‘can you just pop down to Normanton and check this’ requests. I promise every single ‘outsider living in Rutland’ joke was aimed squarely at you.
In fact, my dad makes a cameo appearance in this book. If you ever visit Rutland and stay at the Wisteria Hotel, make sure to wave at the doddery old gardener as you walk past.
While I’m warning you about people in pubs, hello to Paul, Tim and John. If you ever bump into a chap in Oakham who insists Dexter was named after his dog, just nod and smile.
Thank you to all the book bloggers and reviewers who are always so eager to read my new books and help promote them: Emily Ellis, Terry Sullivan, Shell Baker, Yvonne Bastian, Nicki Murphy, Jill Burkinshaw, Jo Robertson, Louise Cannon, Alyson Read, Linda Strong, Karen Cocking and all the other people I’ve undoubtedly missed.
Huge thanks go to Jo Clarke for the information, advice and guidance on types of cancer and their relevant treatments. I always wondered why I was friends with a nurse who had such a deep-seated — and frankly worrying — fascination with cancer, and after nearly twenty years I finally have the answer.
Wedgies and BCG punches to Mark Boutros, for always asking the right questions and getting the most out of my characters. Whenever I’m at the ‘bugger it, that’ll do’ stage, Mark always pushes me on to the next level and ensures everything I write is infinitely better than it otherwise would’ve been. Why he doesn’t inject as much quality into his own writing is anyone’s guess.
To Caitlin White, who helped transform my ideas and nonsense into a coherent, thrilling plot and has been an incredible sounding board. Thank you for everything you’ve done and for having confidence in the series. I’m so pleased you’re by my side on this and stopping me from cocking things up.
As always, huge thanks to Lucy Hayward for her feedback and suggestions on this book and my others. They are all much, much better books for it, and I can’t thank her enough.
To Xander and Jim, my dashing assistants who undertake a multitude of tasks for me on a daily basis and allow me to just about keep my head above water — thank you.
Of course, I need to thank my wife, Joanne, for talking plots and characters through with me and getting me on the right line on more than one occasion. And for the countless nights in Oakham’s wonderful pubs while I was ‘doing some research’.
But my biggest thanks, as always, go to you — my readers — and especially those subscribed to my Patreon program. Active supporters get a number of benefits, including the chance of having a character named after them in my books. In What Lies Beneath, Barbara Tallis and Peter Tottman were named after Patreon supporters.
If you’re interested in becoming a patron, please head over to patreon.com/adamcroft. Your support is enormously valuable.
With that, I’d like to give my biggest thanks to my small but growing group of readers who are currently signed up as Patreon supporters at the time of writing: Ann Sidey, Astrid Rohrlach, Barbara Tallis, Carla Powell, Darren Ashworth, Dawn Blythe, Debbie Rowan, Elaine Smith, Emiliana Anna Perrone, Emily Ellis, Estelle Golding, Geraldine Rue, Helen Weir, Jeanette Moss, Judy Hopkins, Julie Devonald Cornelius, Karina Gallagher, Leigh Hansen, Linda Anderson, Lisa Bayliss, Lisa Lewkowicz, Louise Ross, Lynne Davis, Lynne Lester-George, Mandy Davies, Maureen Hutchings, Nigel M Gibbs, Oriette Stubbs, Paul Wardle, Peter Tottman, Ruralbob, Sally Catling, Sally-Anne Coton, Sim Croft (no relation), Sue (no surname), Susan Fiddes, Sylvia Crampin, Tremayne Alflatt, Tracey Clark, Claire Evans, Lisa-Marie Thompson and Tyler Porter. You’re all absolute superstars.
Wow. That went on longer than I expected.
Adam Croft
With almost two million books sold to date, Adam Croft is one of the most successful independently published authors in the world, having sold books in over 120 different countries.
In February 2017, Amazon’s overall Author Rankings briefly placed Adam as the most widely read author in the world at that moment in time, with J.K. Rowling in second place.
Adam is considered to be one of the world’s leading experts on independent publishing and has been featured on BBC television, BBC Radio 4, BBC Radio 5 Live, the BBC World Service, The Guardian, The Huffington Post, The Bookseller and a number of other news and media outlets.
In March 2018, Adam was conferred as an Honorary Doctor of Arts, the highest academic qualification in the UK, by the University of Bedfordshire in recognition of his services to literature.
Adam presents the regular crime fi
ction podcast Partners in Crime with fellow bestselling author and television actor Robert Daws.