Cherringham--Death on a Summer Night by Neil Richards Page A

waders, on the table and headed back to the car.
    Halfway there, he turned and looked back towards the lake: Trask was sitting at the table with his head in his hands.
    *
    On the way back to Cherringham, Jack pulled off the main road into the parking area where, according to the newspaper reports, Tim Bell and Dinah had been on the night she was killed.
    He got out of the car and climbed the gorse-covered hill just behind.
    When he reached the top he took in the views.
    He could just see a plane taking off at RAF Belford, miles away to the north. To the east, in the valley, lay Cherringham, and just beyond it the Thames, silver in the summer sun, snaking away on its journey towards Oxford, London, and the sea …
    To the west, the hill descended through more gorse to a small road that must eventually curve around and join the Cherringham road. Beyond it he could see the flat plain and the black waters of the lakes, all formed from old gravel pits.
    And that made him think of something …
    Those lakes were deep in parts — very deep.
    He thought back to his time as a detective in New York. The early morning calls to the East River, one a year at least.
    A body dumped in the hope that it would disappear.
    But the fast-flowing waters of the East River never kept those secrets for long, and the body would emerge one day, drifting in the tide.
    Here though, these gravel pits were a different matter entirely.
    Those still, black waters would easily swallow a body and never spit it out.
    If I had to get rid of a body in these parts, he thought, that’s where I’d go.
    He turned and headed back down the hill to his car.
    Just time to pop into the butchers and get some steaks for the barbecue.
    He had a lot to tell Sarah.
    But that could wait. They’d swim and eat first.
    That was what he’d promised … and it sounded perfect.

14. Secrets of the Lake
    Sarah watched Daniel at the bow of Jack’s barge take a running leap into the air, plunging into the river.
    Jack laughed.
    “That water has to be cold,” he said.
    “After this week, I think even the chilly Thames has warmed up. He certainly seems to be enjoying it.”
    She looked back at Chloe, recently returned from her father’s place in London and — it seemed — not actually back yet.
    Headphones in.
    Sunglasses on.
    Bathing suit worn — it would appear — for decorative purposes only.
    “Guess Chloe won’t be joining her brother?”
    “Doesn’t appear that way.”
    She felt Jack looking at her, maybe picking up her concern.
    About raising a teenage girl largely by herself. About the impact of the glittering London life of her father as opposed to sleepy Cherringham.
    Jack tilted the ice shaker towards Sarah. “Ready for the rest of your martini?”
    “I do believe so. Not the kind of drink you gulp down, is it?”
    Jack laughed. “The writer James Thurber once said, ‘One martini is all right. Two are too many, and three are not enough.’”
    “Quoting writers now are we?”
    “When it comes to my favourite beverage … why not? For me one will do, icy cold, sipped. Shall I put on the steaks?”
    Sarah watched Daniel pull himself up the side of the barge, using a ladder Jack had hung by the side.
    “Maybe in a bit. Let Daniel get a few more jumps in, and maybe for Chloe to get hungry.”
    “Smell of sizzling steak should do that.”
    “Hey Mum, Jack — watch this!”
    Daniel yelled loud enough so that Sarah saw even Chloe — reclining against the rear cabin wall of the ship — turn and look.
    And then Daniel took another leap, and tucked his legs up.
    His drop into the river this time sent a giant splash shooting up.
    “A cannonball!” Jack said. “Used to do those all day at the Farragut Pool.” He leaned close. “The goal was always to get people wet standing on the side-lines.”
    She smiled at that, and over Jack’s shoulder saw Chloe shake her head at what she probably viewed as silly, unsophisticated, or—
    Who knew?
    She hadn’t