THE FOURTH FRIEND a gripping crime thriller full of stunning twists

by Joy Ellis

  ‘He has something of a reputation, hasn’t he? Bit of a risk taker? Not much he wouldn’t do to bring the criminals to justice?’ Gary shrugged. ‘Whatever. I’ve not known him very long, but I like him.’

  ‘Me too, and I’ve known him for years. I just don’t like what is happening to him.’

  ‘I don’t think I could come back to work if something like that happened to me.’ Gary shuddered. ‘But he’s younger than me. I suppose work will help to ease the pain. You can only hope that as time passes, he will find a way to live with the terrible memories.’

  Marie wanted to agree with Gary, but in her heart of hearts, she could only see Carter’s future as dark.

  * * *

  Jackman stared across the flat fields towards the marshes and the distant Wash. It was a beautiful summer evening and the setting sun was putting on one of its spectacular light shows. The darkening sky was shot through with bands of fiery orange and scarlet, and purple grey clouds gathered in great mountainous drifts. He never tired of the sunsets.

  With a contented sigh, he walked to the door of his mill house and turned the key in the lock. He was hoping for an early night. He needed to make some kind of headway with the Suzanne Holland case, and he wouldn’t do that if he was overtired. He thought of the blood at her house, the body gone and no witnesses to what happened. His contentment disappeared.

  He sat down at the kitchen table. On the top of a pile of manila files lay the forensic report, giving details of the blood spatter analysis. He was certain that this evidence in particular pointed to foul play, and not an accident, as had been suggested at the time. Although it had happened some eighteen months before, the case had never been closed. Now Superintendent Ruth Crooke had received a request from the ACC to bring it to a conclusion. It seemed that an online group had taken it up and were running with all kinds of weird speculation. It was now the subject of some considerable comment on the Internet. It had become known that the missing woman, Suzanne, had been the wife of Tom Holland, who had died in a light aircraft crash shortly after she went missing. People were suddenly calling for answers and demanding that the authorities do more. It was Jackman’s unhappy lot to take up the case again before it went viral.

  Jackman heaved an irritated sigh and stared at the thick file in front of him. Bloody media! On top of all that, it seemed that Suzanne Holland might have led some sort of double life. She’d certainly had a chequered past. Every avenue the detectives explored produced more questions than answers.

  Jackman closed the report and yawned loudly. He badly needed sleep. Suzanne Holland would have to wait until tomorrow.

  His brain, however, had other ideas. At three in the morning, Jackman found himself pacing the bedroom floor. He hated investigations that had no structure. Was the woman dead? Had she wandered off after having some awful accident? Had she been abducted? Apparently she’d been something of a good-time girl but their investigations had unearthed no vengeful wife or jealous lover lurking in the shadows. She had been briefly married before, and her ex was now living a mostly intoxicated life as a holiday rep in Spain. Reading the old case files, Jackman found that no one had actually spoken to this man. He made a mental note to get someone to double check this first thing.

  Jackman flopped back down on the bed.

  Then there was another problem.

  Marie was a positive, energetic person, but right now she looked eaten up with concern over McLean’s imminent return to full duties. Jackman trusted Marie’s judgement, and if she was worried, then he was worried too. Perhaps he should pull a few strings and keep Carter away from the Holland case. If Ruth Crooke had her way, Carter would stay behind a desk for all eternity. He had no idea why the two officers disliked each other so much, and did not intend to ask them. The feud had been running forever, and he really did not want to get involved.

  For the first time in years they were fully staffed. CID had undergone a major overhaul over the past few months, but finally things seemed to be calming down. The Saltern-le-Fen detectives now worked together, allocating jobs to whoever had the smallest backlog on their desk. At last Jackman and Marie had several good officers to call on, and Ruth Crooke had told him to use whoever he needed.

  His long-serving detectives, Max and Charlie, would work on the Holland disappearance, plus DC Robbie Melton, a new and very welcome transfer from a neighbouring division. Robbie’s previous partner had been seriously injured on duty and after she left, he had been lost, unable to settle back into his old job. The change of scenery had worked wonders for him. Robbie had developed a real affinity for Marie Evans, and she liked him. He was slightly built and often wore jeans and a hoodie, but he was actually well into his thirties, despite looking almost like a teenager. His forte was blending in on the streets. He prided himself on the fact that no one ever gave him a second glance. In fact, Robbie was a very astute and intelligent detective.

  Then there was DC Rosie McElderry. She was pretty bogged down in a drugs case at present, but could still lend a hand. And of course, they had good old PC Gary Pritchard.

  Now for the downside — DS Carter McLean.

  Jackman crawled back into bed and pulled the duvet over himself.

  No, he would not put Carter on the Holland case. There were other investigations running that Carter could work on. Looking into the seedier side of his dead friend’s missing wife was a definite no-no. He closed his eyes. At least that should make Marie slightly happier. He hoped so, because he didn’t like the preoccupied, anxious expression he saw on his trusted sergeant’s face these days. He needed the old Marie back.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘Marie?’ It was three in the morning.

  She recognised Carter’s voice immediately. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Apart from being unable to sleep and worried sick, I’m fine.’

  ‘That’s not surprising, now, is it? Big day tomorrow, my man. Back on the front line.’ She fought off sleep and spoke as casually as she could. But she was worried.

  ‘I guess. But that’s not why I phoned.’ He sighed. ‘Oh hell, Marie, this could have waited until tomorrow, I know, but I wanted to you to know how much I appreciate what a good mate you have been to me since . . . the accident. You’ve been my rock. To be honest, I don’t know what I would have done without you.’

  ‘Rubbish! You’d have done fine, and what have I done anyway? It’s Laura you should be thanking.’

  ‘We both know that’s not true. You’ve listened to my inane ramblings and never criticised me once. Laura has been amazing, but it’s her job. She’s paid to worry about me. You’re different. You’ve been a real friend.’

  ‘I am your friend, Carter, and you were my Bill’s closest mate. Would I leave you to suffer alone? Besides, if you’d ranted like that to anyone else, they’d have locked you up, and you are far too good a copper for that.’

  Carter gave a low laugh. ‘You are not wrong about locking me up!’

  ‘Are you really that worried about tomorrow?’ she asked softly. ‘Three in the morning is a bit extreme, even for you.’

  ‘I’ll cope. I’m well on the mend. It’s not that.’

  There was a very long silence.

  ‘I see them.’

  Marie took a moment to realise what he meant. ‘I’m sure you do. I saw Bill for months after he died — at the station, here in the garden, in shops . . .’

  ‘No, I see them.’

  ‘But that’s natural, Carter. Denial is one of the stages of grief. You know that.’

  ‘But I’m not denying anything. Jesus! I know they are dead. I watched them burn, didn’t I? What I’m saying is that . . .’ Carter stumbled over his words, then whispered hopelessly, ‘I see them, really I do. And I smell them burning.’

  Marie exhaled. She was just not prepared for this. Carter should be talking to Laura Archer. But apart from Laura, she was the only one Carter could speak to about what had happened. It was a heavy weight on her shoulders. Wise words were s
ometimes hard to come by, and she was never quite sure how to answer his questions. All she wanted to do was say something that would really help him, but every time she opened her mouth, the tired old clichés emerged.

  She knew Laura Archer had warned him that he might “see” his friends, especially in crowded places or walking along the street. He would see them in his mind’s eye in all the places where they had been together. After he was killed, Marie had seen her lovely husband everywhere. Laura had told Carter that because his trauma had been so extreme, he might even hallucinate in the early days. But these were no longer early days. Marie wondered what he was getting at. Was he thinking of spirits? Ghosts? Surely not! Not the down to earth DS Carter McLean. ‘So how do you see them?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘Just like anyone else. They are as real as you and I.’ Carter’s tone was unnervingly matter-of-fact. ‘I’ve been seeing them since day one. They mainly visit me at home in the evenings, but it can be anytime, anywhere.’

  Marie shivered. They’d talked about his friends for hours, days. Sometimes it seemed like they talked about nothing else. But he’d never mentioned this. ‘What do they do?’ she asked tentatively.

  Carter inhaled. ‘We just hang out really. Try to make sense of things.’

  Well, this made very little sense to her. She found it spooky. A group of dead guys “hanging out” at Carter’s place. She surmised that it was Carter trying to make sense of everything. Imagining that his friends were there helped him sort out his screwed-up head.

  ‘You do know they would never blame you, don’t you?’

  ‘Yeah, I know. They tell me that themselves. It’s just that there’s so much unfinished business. They never should have died, Marie. They all had things that they really needed to do. Things that were desperately important to them.’

  Marie tried to massage her aching neck with her free hand. Surely, no one, whatever the circumstances, was ever prepared to die? We all leave unfinished business.

  ‘The weird part is,’ Carter paused, ‘I believe it’s down to me to finish what they started.’

  Marie stopped rubbing her neck. The penny was dropping. ‘Ah. Like the marathon?’

  ‘Exactly. I didn’t know it then. I just did it because it was Matt’s dream. But he’s gone, Marie. From the moment I crossed that line. The others still come, but Matt isn’t with them anymore.’

  ‘And you think that you’ve somehow freed him by doing this for him?’

  ‘I do.’

  Marie said nothing. She wondered what Laura Archer would make of it. Survivor’s guilt, she supposed. Carter was trying to make amends. When she thought about it, it actually made a lot of sense. Carter had freed himself of his guilt about Matt. It was actually bloody great!

  ‘So who is next?’ she said.

  Carter answered swiftly. ‘I think it should be Ray. After all, it was all about him, wasn’t it? The best stag do ever?’ There was a catch in his voice.

  Marie felt a rush of intense sadness. She cared for Carter in a way that was almost impossible to explain. There was something intensely vulnerable and sad about him that evoked the deepest emotions. Marie knew that she would lay down her life for Carter McLean, just as she would for Jackman. Carter would do the same for her. He had already stopped a wicked blade that might have ended Bill’s life even sooner than it had been. In his turn, Bill had defended Carter against a crackhead with a gun. Not that Carter had ever been an angel. Gary had said that Carter was a risk taker. He was right. Carter bent rules and pushed boundaries to get a good collar, and thought nothing of it. He believed that the bad guys should always go down, one way or another. Yes, Carter was a chancer, but Marie had seen the lonely little boy inside, one with something to prove.

  What could she do to help him right now, other than support him? His wounds had healed and he was physically fit. On the surface he was the same as ever, apart from a few small signs, like claustrophobia. Carter’s most damaged part was hidden from the outside world. Only she and Laura Archer knew.

  ‘So, about Ray?’ Do you know what you can do to help him?’

  Carter grunted. ‘Hmm. I’m not sure yet, but I’ll ask him when I see him next.’

  * * *

  Images of Carter shooting the breeze with dead men banished sleep completely. By four thirty, Marie had raided the fridge twice. She was on the verge of waking Gary and telling him everything, but stopped herself. Carter was her problem and hers alone.

  And what had he meant by smelling them burn? Carter was outside the plane when it caught fire. He was unconscious when he was rescued. He could not have smelled their flesh burning, so what was that all about?

  Marie took a loaf from the bread bin, hacked off a thick slice and slathered on a thick dollop of peanut butter.

  She took her snack out to the conservatory and flopped into one of the rattan chairs. Rover, her elderly tabby cat, joined her. Rover was a great listener, never complained and rarely interrupted. She told him of her decision. She wasn’t going to shoulder Carter’s revelation alone. She wouldn’t burden Jackman, though. He was in the middle of a high-profile inquiry. Tomorrow she would book an appointment to see Laura Archer.

  Marie swallowed the last of her third pre-dawn snack, and returned to bed . . . to an hour’s restless sleep and indigestion.

  * * *

  Carter was having an even worse night. At four fifteen, he pulled on his running clothes and left the apartment.

  He ran towards the estuary along a narrow towpath. In the fleeting light of the moon breaking through cloud, the river snaked across the landscape like a great slick of oil. His feet pounded the riverbank in darkness, but he knew the route well. On nights like this, with the moon to guide him, he liked to take the longer circuit along the sea bank and the fen lanes, and back to his home via an alleyway that skirted the fishing boats. It was a gruelling run, but it was better than lying in bed waiting for some new nightmare.

  He thought about Marie. She was looking tired these days, and he feared he was the cause. He had never set out to use her this way, but she was the best listener he’d ever met, and endlessly patient. Best of all, Marie didn’t judge him. He wondered what he would do without her. How did she put up with him? Carter knew he had changed. He hated his new impatient, volatile self, but he couldn’t control it. He prayed that she wouldn’t give up on him. After Bill had died, he and Marie had become close confidantes. After all, Bill had been very special to both of them. But now he was putting too much strain on her, and he hated himself for doing it.

  Carter slowed his pace and looked around. He had arrived at the junction of the sea bank and Back Lane. That meant stopping to negotiate a big, heavy old gate and an ancient cattle grid. You had to be careful here. An awkward step, a slip on the wide metal bars of the grid could bring about a broken ankle, and there was no way of getting an ambulance down to this stretch of the marsh.

  The acrid stench of burning flesh filled his nostrils. He drew in a breath and looked around for his friends.

  ‘If you keep exercising like this and get no rest, you’ll keel over one of these days,’ murmured Tom in his ear.

  ‘Yeah, not good, mate. You’re living on your nerves,’ added Ray.

  Their three dark figures were standing close to his shoulder.

  ‘You don’t want to crash and burn, do you?’ whispered Jack.

  Carter swallowed. For the first time, their presence frightened him. He took a step back. He’d never felt like this before. ‘Guys? Are you mad at me?’

  Tom sighed. ‘Of course not, mate. We just get kind of homesick sometimes.’

  ‘Yeah,’ added Jack. ‘We’re all over the place right now.’

  ‘And Matt?’ asked Carter.

  No one answered him. His friends seemed to drift a little further away.

  Carter drew in a deep breath. It looked like he was right. It really was down to him to do something for them. ‘Okay, tell me what I can do. Ray? You first. How can I help you?’


  Ray moved closer and the stench made Carter almost gag. ‘I had a nest egg, Carter. No one knew about it. It’s not in my name. You know why, don’t you?’

  He did. Ray’s younger brothers were known as the evil twins. They spent more time in the young offenders’ unit than they did at home. In fact, Carter wouldn’t have trusted any of Ray’s family. His mate had definitely been a foundling. It had been one of the reasons why he, as best man, had decided to hold the stag party well away from home. He didn’t want to risk Ray’s celebration being wrecked by his dodgy siblings.

  ‘Yeah, I know why,’ he said.

  ‘Well, I want Joanne to have it.’ Ray’s voice faltered. ‘She’s going to need it. Sort it for me, Carter? Give it to her. Tell her I was never very good at saying it, but I really loved her.’

  ‘Of course I’ll do that, Ray. Just tell me where it is, and I’ll get onto it first thing tomorrow.’ Carter looked at Ray eagerly. This was something that meant a great deal to his friend.

  ‘Ray?’ Carter gazed around. The night smelt only of salty ozone. The moon shone down onto an empty lane.

  ‘Shit!’ Now what? His friend had told him what he really needed, but not how to go about it. Carter gave a deep sigh and began the run home.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Charlie Button hurried into Jackman’s office, where Carter was sitting. ‘Super wants to see you, sir. And she said you too, Sergeant McLean.’

  Carter glanced at Jackman and pulled a face. Together they stood up and headed for her room.

  Superintendent Crooke looked distinctly uncomfortable. Her thin lips were tightly pressed together. She seemed to be wrestling with her words. After a while, she took a deep breath and said, ‘My youngest niece is in trouble.’