Read Dead Level (The DI Nick Dixon Crime Series Book 5) for Free Online Page A

midnight and 4 a.m. We can widen it from there if nothing comes up. Look for anything out of the ordinary. Both of you. All right?’
    ‘OK.’
    ‘Is the husband on his way?’
    ‘Be here about threeish,’ replied Pearce.

    Jane looked at her watch. It was nearly midday. She had been listening to the conversation from a vacant workstation in the far corner of the CID area, where she had been looking at Northmoor Green and the River Parrett on Google Earth. The satellite images were recent and the river was visible as a grey strip weaving in and out of the fields. Jane zoomed in and looked at the banks adjacent to Waterside Cottage, where the river seemed to narrow still further and the grass on the banks either side gave way to large silt deposits.
    Silt had long been a political issue for residents living on the Somerset Levels. That and the failure of the Environment Agency to dredge the rivers, as evidenced by the abundance of signs Jane had seen demanding they do just that.
    Then she had checked the long range weather forecast. Neither looked good.
    She was still staring at the satellite picture, dragging the image with her mouse so that she could follow the gravel track south-east along the river, when her phone rang.
    ‘Jane Winter.’
    ‘Jane, it’s Donald Watson. Janice isn’t answering her phone.’
    Jane looked up from her desk. Janice’s handbag was on the corner of a workstation but Janice was nowhere to be seen.
    ‘She was here a minute ago . . .’
    ‘Not to worry,’ said Watson. ‘I’ll tell you. I’ve had a look in the victim’s purse. We’ve got a petrol receipt from the Shell garage on the A39 at 11.32 a.m. and a till receipt from the Greendale Farm Shop at 12.01 p.m.’
    ‘What about her cards?’
    ‘Still there. Even the cash. Sixty quid. Looks like she picked up the turkey. Then nothing.’
    ‘Is that it?’
    ‘From the purse, yes. There are some text messages on her phone throughout the afternoon and evening. All to and from her husband. Looks like he went to the office Christmas party, I think. The last one was sent at 11.17 p.m. and says, “Leaving now. See you in the morning. Kiss, kiss.” I’ll put it all in an email for you.’
    ‘Thanks.’
    Jane rang off. Office party on the Monday then driving home on Christmas Eve morning. It all sounded perfectly normal. How many other people would have done that very thing?
    She went back to following the riverside path to the south-east, dragging the satellite image across the screen and waiting each time for the picture to resolve. The track turned away from the river and across a field beyond the next bend, continuing along the riverbank only as a narrow footpath, before joining a tarmac road at a farm further down. It certainly offered a way out, albeit on foot, and would need to be checked out.
    ‘What’re you looking at?’
    Jane recognised Janice’s voice behind her.
    ‘I’m just following the river in both directions,’ replied Jane, without turning away from the screen. ‘See where the paths go.’
    ‘And where do they go?’
    ‘Through a farm to the north and you can get out on foot to the south.
    ‘We’d better get someone to follow it and have a look.’
    ‘Will do.’
    ‘Anything from Harry yet?’ asked Janice.
    ‘Not yet.’
    ‘Probably asleep in his car,’ replied Janice. ‘I’ll ring him.’
    Jane listened to Janice’s side of the conversation.
    ‘What have you . . . ?’
    ‘Two?’
    ‘What time?’
    ‘Which bit of let me know immediately did you not under . . .’
    ‘All right. Wait for me by the church.’
    Janice rang off and snatched her handbag off the workstation in front of Jane.
    ‘C’mon. We’ve got time before Perry gets here. Two people heard an engine in the early hours so let’s see what they say. We can look in at the cottage too.’

    Harry Unwin was waiting for them by the church when Janice and Jane arrived in Moorland. It had taken them longer than expected to drive