by Liz Mistry
Unspoken Truths
DI Gus Maguire Book 5
Liz Mistry
Contents
Also by Liz Mistry
Praise for Liz Mistry
Haiku
Prologue
FEBRUARY 2018
Chapter 1
FRIDAY
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
SATURDAY
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
SUNDAY
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
MONDAY
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
TUESDAY
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Epilogue
A Note from Bloodhound Books
Acknowledgments
Copyright © 2018 Liz Mistry
The right of Liz Mistry to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published in 2018 by Bloodhound Books
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publisher or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
www.bloodhoundbooks.com
Also by Liz Mistry
The DI Gus Maguire Series:
Unquiet Souls
Uncoiled Lies
Untainted Blood
Uncommon Cruelty
Praise for Liz Mistry
“A fast paced race for the truth, with twists and surprises all over the place.” Sharon Vassal - Amazon Review
"What a fantastic story which is full of twists and turns whilst being sensitively written about an absolute horrendous subject!" Clair Boor - Have Books Will Read
"It is a very complex story with many strands intertwined to make up a very gripping, adrenaline filled book that has the reader turning page after page well into the night." Jill Burkinshaw - Books n All
"Omg what an excellent start to a brand new series....Absolutely brilliant storytelling." Livia Sbarbaro - Goodreads
"Another fantastic read from Liz. I loved unquiet Souls so I knew this would be just as good." Susan Angela Wallace - Goodreads
"A gritty storyline, an excellent ending and very believable characters. A very well written book." Misfits Farm - Goodreads
"Strong writing. Believable characters and a fast paced plot." Owen Mullen - Author
“Liz Mistry obviously researches her work really well, and there is a real sense of authenticity in her books, along with believable characters and fast moving plots.” Waycat - Amazon Review
"I just loved Liz Mistry’s writing style, there is such a simplicity about it that makes if very easy to follow, as all the characters are very distinctive." Susan Hampson - Books From Dusk Till Dawn
"The writing style was spot on and it covered a controversial but highly relevant topic and boy it was done well." Donna Maguire - Donnas Book Blog
"The book is well written and keeps you gripped throughout and has a few twists that made me gasp!" Julie Lacey - Goodreads
As always, with love, for my family;
Nilesh, Ravi, Kasi and Jimi
Haiku
Truths buried deeply
Under frozen hearts of ice
Unspoken. Dormant.
Prologue
HM Women’s Prison Stanton, Surrey. Early February 2018
Alice had been beasting it up in the pit. Today, she’d gone for progressive overload on the skull crusher, followed by ten reps of kettlebell swings, deadlifts and hanging knee raises. Since being incarcerated she’d needed to sharpen her focus – keep her senses on continual high alert. This was the one environment where she regained control. Surrounded by the grunts of women stacking weights and the clank of metal on metal, her gym time allowed her to escape from herself… for a short time at least. The rhythmic thump on the punch bags – leather on leather – whop, whop, whop… left, right, left… whop, whop, whop, allowed her to channel her anger.
Until her imprisonment, Alice had worked out in mixed gyms and the absence of testosterone, where only female sweat was broken, gave it a different vibe. It was the smell. Until now she hadn’t considered that female perspiration smelt any different from men’s. But it did. Or maybe it was just her imagination. It wasn’t so in your face, so overpowering. Mad, huh? She’d always made the choice to avoid the single-sex joints, preferring to assert her independence, her lack of fear, her right to train in mixed company. Maybe it was the challenge. Maybe it was her competitive streak. The prison gym was a basic, no frills space. Its main aim being to dispel the stir crazy – and it worked. Well, it did for Alice. It kept her sane.
Tired and aching, body pushed to its limit, she wiped the sweat from her brow and left the gym. Not breaking stride, she sent a cursory glance at the other two prisoners who, like her, seemed to work out to combat their demons. She never spoke to them, nor they to her, despite that, they shared an unspoken appreciation of each other’s dedication and stamina.
All too aware of her stalkers loitering by the exercise balls, Alice walked past. Haudit and Daudit, names she’d borrowed from Gus’ old man, were sprawled on the mats – massive pink lycra-clad watermelons, ready to burst apart, spewing their innards out like venom. Their leader, Hairy Mary, leaned against the wall, one foot resting on an inflated turquoise ball, rolling it back and forth, an unlit cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth. She’d had dealings with Hairy Mary and her crew before now and wondered at their sudden interest in the gym.
Before entering the shower area, Alice took a quick glance in the wall mirrors to check where everyone was; officers in a huddle near the punch bags, Hairy Mary’s goons flattening the equipment to her right – no other threat in sight. Inside, she stripped off her kit and chucked it on the bench before stepping into the cubicle. Not bothering with the slimy plastic splash sheet, she banged her palm against the button and
raised her face to meet the lukewarm water. An officer should have accompanied her inside, but who was she to interrupt their gossiping. One of them would notice her absence soon and catch up with her – for now though, Alice welcomed being alone. She rested her brow against the wall and savoured the water cooling her, washing the sweat away. The door clicked open and a quick smirk tugged at Alice’s lips for a second. Big Brother was on her case!
As she lifted her forehead from the wall, she sensed movement right behind her, too close to be a guard. Whirling round on one leg, her hands flew up to the tiled walls on either side. Bracing herself against them, she kicked, connecting with pink lycra’d flab that elicited an ‘oomph’ before slipping on the wet floor and landing on its backside. Fists up, bobbing on the balls of her feet, Alice flicked water from her face. Bitches! Trust them to start when I’m naked! Eyes darting round the room, she saw two more adversaries; Hairy bloody Mary and her last remaining sidekick. Where were the officers? Surely, they’d noticed her absence by now?
Alice weighed up the odds. Neither of her opponents were in peak physical condition, so she reckoned she could dodge them. It all depended on whether the prison officers were actually going to put in an appearance or, as she suspected, had just turned a blind eye. Fuck! She should’ve known better than to sneak off on her own.
Narrowing her eyes, Alice unclenched her fists and dropped them to waist height, her palms up. Wiggling her fingers in a ‘come on then’ gesture, she raised her chin, glowering. ‘What you waiting for? Better odds?’
Adrenalin surged through her, chasing her earlier fatigue away. Her eyes flitted between her opponents wondering which one would attack first. Hairy Mary laughed, her hair fanned around her face like a henna-maned lion. Jiggling a towel in front of Alice, her voice a childish sing song, said ‘Here, you want this, ya slut?’
She took a step towards Alice, ‘Fucking got ya now, Cooper. Fucking got ya.’
Ignoring the thought that being naked in a fight wasn’t the best scenario she’d faced, Alice held her ground. Mary’s pasty arms lunged towards her throat. Alice sidestepped which brought her closer to Mary’s mate – the one she’d named Haudit. She’d already disposed of Daudit who was still sprawled on the ground, moaning. A fleeting expression of wide-eyed panic crossed Haudit’s spotty face as Alice lifted her arms and stepped closer. It was then that the slow clapping began. Alice halted. A huge grin replaced Haudit’s earlier anxious expression and a quick glance showed that Hairy Mary’s face was now blooming – a Cheshire lion with spots and a mangy mane.
Alice’s eyes flitted to the right and her stomach plummeted. How the hell had she not noticed Baby Jane Inflictor of Pain enter the arena? Not much bigger than Alice, Baby Jane, nonetheless, made Hannibal Lector seem sane. Glancing around, she looked for a way out. Wherever Baby Jane was, her goons wouldn’t be far behind and she didn’t want to wait around to see what was in store for her.
Taking a sideways step, she grabbed Haudit by the shoulders and – despite the excessive poundage the other woman carried – she swung her round with ease before catapulting her toward Baby Jane. Not waiting to witness the impact, Alice dodged back, her eye on the shower room door. She was within arm’s reach of it when a vice-like grip settled on her upper arms, yanking her backwards and slamming her against the wall.
A hand round her throat kept her in place, her toes only just skimming the floor. From what seemed like miles above her, rotten teeth were bared in a halitosis grin. Aw shit, Baby Jane’s enforcer was here. Alice’s entire body tensed as Hairy Mary and her team sidled over to block the door. She was on her own. The Enforcer released Alice’s throat and, knowing better than to show weakness, she raised her chin and stared straight at Baby Jane, aware that, with her arms held by her sides, her options were limited.
Baby Jane’s eyes were as blue as a winter’s sky, cold and empty. She smiled. The only person Alice had ever met with a similar expression was The Matchmaker. Whatever she wanted with her, it would not be in Alice’s best interests. She shivered and Jane’s enforcer, nostrils flared, yowled like a hound about to be let loose on a fox. Alice swallowed down her nausea and did the only thing she could…
Utilising the firmness of her attackers’ hold on her arms, she waited till Jane was close enough. She pulled down on them, swung up with her legs and rammed her feet right into Baby Jane’s chest. Baby Jane stumbled backwards. A yelp of pure rage hung in the cubicle. The goons increased the pressure on Alice’s arms, smashing her back against the wall. Her head cracked against the tiles. Alice flinched, her eyesight clouded. She forced herself to shake off the dizziness. Baby Jane was coming for her, mouth open in a feral growl. Backing up, the cold tiles pressed against her bare buttocks, there was nothing she could do, nowhere to go.
Baby Jane, breathing heavily, crashed into her body. Alice’s breath pouffed, her bones shuddered and then agonising pain. Her eyes flew open. Jane danced in front of her, something bloody gripped between her teeth, blood dripping down her chin. Eyes fastened on Alice, she snarled, baring her teeth. With one finger, she pushed Alice’s nipple into her mouth. Two chews… still grinning, she gave an exaggerated swallow before opening her mouth wide, as if she was on I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here. ‘All gone!’
Alice looked down at her bloody breast and vomited.
Leaning over, Baby Jane banged the shower button and a cascade of water spouted over all of them. ‘Let her go!’
The goons released Alice, who landed on her back. Straddling her, Baby Jane leaned in close and in a final act of defiance, Alice – one hand cupped round her injured breast – stared her out. Baby Jane extended an arm to one of her goons who gave her a pink Barbie toothbrush. The handle had been fashioned into a home-made shiv, honed to a point with a blade inserted for good measure. Alice knew what was coming next.
Sean had finally got to her… she’d always known he would – even in here.
The water pounded her body, warm prickles fading to cold. Cowering in the foetal position, trickles of pink-tinged liquid flowed towards the plughole where it swirled momentarily – a silent gurgle before eddying away. She was numb. The shiv had fallen out of the wound and her blood leaked onto the shower room tiles, yet… no pain.
After she’d been stabbed, Alice had waited, anticipating another thrust. None had come. Just a combination of foul-smelling cigarettes, caffeine and the remnants of that evening’s boiled veg concoction. It wasn’t the foulness of her attacker’s breath that made her blood run cold though, it was the whispered husky words… the threat.
Alice screamed, clutching her side. The strange disconnect between her blood, warm as it left her body coupled with the coolness of the shower, made her dizzy. She had to hold on. Had to survive this. For, if she didn’t, the worst thing imaginable would happen and she couldn’t be responsible for more deaths. Her eyelids flickered, her hand pressed to her side, weak and shaking.
Voices, hollow and echoey drifted above her. Shadows floated like phantoms and hands touched her skin. She clenched, trying to protest as pressure was applied to the puncture site and gentle fingers skimmed across her forehead. She recognised the voice -Lulu. Footsteps running, the shower’s pounding stopped, softness replaced the hardness under her head… nothing.
FEBRUARY 2018
THURSDAY
1
19:15 HEATON WOODS
The Beast from the East that had been promised for days, hung heavy in the air with the odd flurry of snow turning vague threats into distinct possibility. The darkness was alleviated only by the moonlight and Gus’ torch. He and Patti had chosen to walk up through Heaton woods to get to his parents’ farmhouse on Shay Lane. This section was far enough away from the roads to have its own quiet. Not silence, but rather the gentle noises of wildlife settling in for the night. The trees, still bare from their winter hibernation, creaked in the breeze. In the undergrowth, a faint scuttling told them they weren’t alone, whilst above them, an occasional hoot or the flutter of
wings kept them company. Underfoot the path was uneven and sludgy. Rain followed by snow, followed by ice, followed by rain, made it squelch round their feet as they tramped uphill. Gus’ cheeks were cold and he wished he’d picked up his scarf before he left Mariner’s Drive.
