A Fatal Silence E-Book

Rachel Amphlett

• Herausgeber: Saxon Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

After the music stops, the killing begins…

When the body of a young woman is discovered at an outdoor music festival, Detective Kay Hunter’s investigation stalls almost as soon as it starts.

Because the killer has left no trace, and the victim’s identity is unknown.

Amidst a media backlash, and faced with thousands of potential suspects, Kay must piece together the last hours of the woman’s life before her killer can escape.

But when Kay finds out the truth, her discovery will shake her investigation team to its core…

A Fatal Silence is the 14th book in the Detective Kay Hunter series from USA Today bestselling author Rachel Amphlett, and perfect for readers who love fast-paced crime fiction.

Leseprobe

A FATAL SILENCE

A DETECTIVE KAY HUNTER CRIME THRILLER

RACHEL AMPHLETT

A Fatal Silence © 2025 by Rachel Amphlett

The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. While the locations in this book are a mixture of real and imagined, the characters are totally fictitious. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead is entirely coincidental.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

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

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

About the Author

ONE

It was the morning after the night before when they found the mutilated body.

The park was quiet at seven o’clock, a stark contrast to the bright lights and pounding music that had filled the air until six hours ago.

The two enormous stages that had been built over two days last week were silent, the U-shaped lighting rigs arcing above them darkened, and – mercifully, given the antics of the Australian band that had taken to the international stage and delivered a Friday night headlining act that was all over social media this morning – scrubbed clean of dried-up exploding foam and streams of toilet tissue.

Now, the soft chirrup of larks carried on the light summer breeze at the far end of the undulating parkland, punctuated by the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of a woodpecker.

A soft hue of pink and blue hugged the horizon, muting the harshest of the sun’s rays for a few hours and casting a soft dew across long grass that threatened to wither if the heatwave continued any longer than the weekend.

Lilac and ghost-like white petals dotted the grass, with wild clover thriving alongside vetch and yarrow to create a heady scent that attracted a myriad of insects that happily buzzed amongst the foliage despite the dive-bombing antics of swifts and chaffinches. Tall horse chestnut and beech trees cast dappled shadows across the old carriage paths that criss-crossed the undulating landscape of the old country estate, the bases of their sturdy trunks littered with empty beer cans.

In the distance, over by the car park, a dozen or so uniformed police officers fresh out of training milled around one of the food wagons that was doing a brisk trade in strong coffee and bacon sandwiches, the aroma of Arabica beans and grease wafting over the slumbering festival-goers.

A thin line of ragtag T-shirt-clad twenty-somethings eyed them suspiciously from their position next to the opening of a drugs advisory charity’s tent until their attention was taken by a young woman emerging, her slight frame enveloped into a reassuring hug by the nearest male before she was led away.

The campsite next to the car park began as a sprawling rainbow of polyester tents in all different shapes and sizes that, after a few hundred metres, gave way to the more expensive pitches and purpose-built luxury end of the accommodation options. Here, billowing white canvas housed double beds and en suite bathrooms, bespoke thick woollen rugs lining the waterproof flooring.

The police constables were soon joined by a group of St John’s Ambulance volunteers, a mixture of bright orange and yellow high-visibility vests jostling for position next to the trestle tables laid out with complimentary sugar sachets and wooden stirring sticks.

More crap to pick up later, then.

Andrew Bressett turned his back on the temporary stages and towering lighting rigs, clucking under his breath as he used a pair of extendable aluminium tongs to fish another spent cigarette butt out from under a thorny shrub.

He wrinkled his nose, then dropped the offending article into the black bin liner he carried.

The gloves he wore provided a modicum of protection from sharp objects and germs but, like yesterday, he would slather his hands with antiseptic soap once he and the other volunteers were done here.

‘Jesus, another bloody needle.’

He turned at the woman’s voice, and saw Susie Hinsen clasping a spent syringe carefully between her gloved fingers.

‘Lewis has got the biohazard bin,’ he said. ‘I’ve already found three this morning.’

‘I’m winning – this is my fifth.’ She beckoned to a stooped man in his sixties farther along the path and waited until he joined them. ‘Thanks, Lewis. I thought everyone was taking pills these days anyway?’

‘Different generations,’ said Andrew. ‘I heard one of the first aiders saying yesterday that the older ones still go for needles, and the younger ones are too scared. They think the pills are the safer option.’

Susie rolled her eyes in response, then popped the needle through the letterbox-shaped hole in the top of the box and gave Lewis a grateful smile. ‘How’s your back holding up?’

‘Okay.’ The sixty-something shook the biohazard bin, rattling the contents. ‘I’m going to go and empty this.’

Andrew watched while the older man shuffled away, shielding his eyes against the glare off the car windscreens. ‘Remind me again why I agreed to do this? I could be in Brighton, windsurfing right now.’

‘Because you love me.’ Susie raised herself on her tiptoes, kissed him and then grinned. ‘Besides, there isn’t enough wind.’

‘Not here.’ He wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, then eyed the path snaking off around two beech trees before disappearing over a slight rise in the grass. ‘Another twenty minutes, then we’ll head back and get some water, sound good?’

‘Works for me. The first band won’t be on until ten anyway so we could probably get another hour done before then.’

Andrew groaned. ‘Great.’

He trudged after her, the steel-capped safety boots she insisted he wore scraping the dry earth and weighing down his feet that were already sweating in the morning heat.

If he were honest, the chance to volunteer at the music festival in return for subsidised tickets had been a good one – he just hadn’t factored in the early starts on top of partying along with all the other revellers and then trying to sleep while most of the other festival-goers continued their celebrations.

When his phone alarm had gone off at six, he had nearly tossed it out through the tent flap in disgust.

He wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Susie.

They’d only been seeing each other for four months but already he was captivated by her, and she knew it.

Hence why, when they missed out on securing tickets through the online agency and she suggested an alternative way to get through the gates and see their favourite bands, he’d gone along with the idea.

He stabbed at a foil crisp packet, wondering for the nth time why salt and vinegar flavour was in that colour these days, and exhaled.

If this morning’s clear-up was anything to go by, then tomorrow would be worse.

Raising his head to peer across to the far side of the park, he could see cars already queuing to enter the festival site, adding to what would be a full capacity crowd for the headlining act tonight.

‘They’re going to be awesome,’ said Susie, pausing to shield her brow with her hand. ‘I just know it.’

‘Hope they’ve been practising. It’s been fifteen years since they were last on a stage together, and that didn’t go well.’

‘Wasn’t that Frankfurt, where Joey punched Thommo after the fourth song?’

‘Yeah. Apparently Thommo tried to trip him up for a laugh.’ Andrew grinned. ‘I wouldn’t have minded being a fly on the wall when this tour was suggested.’

On cue, the sound of a drum kit being thumped at odd beats carried across to where they stood, the gentle rise of the hill providing a clear view to the stages. A guitar technician started noodling up and down a fretboard, the well-known riffs and fills providing a potent concoction of memories.

‘Like you said, maybe they all need the money.’ Susie jerked her chin towards the hedgerow lining the path in the distance. ‘Come on, the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get back to the tent and get changed.’

‘Having second thoughts about volunteering?’

She moved closer to the tangled hedgerow, the sound of her aluminium picker stabbing at the ground carrying across to where he worked. ‘My head hurts. I’m staying off the cider today, that’s for sure.’

He laughed. ‘I told you it was strong.’

Pausing beside a thicket of tangled holly and a blossoming blackthorn bush, he reached out with the pincers and snatched up a pair of discarded knickers, turning his face away as he dropped them into the bag. ‘Jesus, some people.’

‘Hey, do you think I should hand this in?’

He looked up at Susie’s voice to see her holding aloft a blue cotton scarf, the sort he’d seen a lot of the women wearing in the evenings to keep the chill off their shoulders while strolling around the various food and beer tents.

Wrinkling his nose, he wandered over, noting the dirt-streaked material. ‘I don’t know, it could’ve been there a while. Where was it?’

‘Right here, on the ground.’ She gave it a shake, loosening some of the dirt. ‘It’s good quality. I reckon someone’s lost this recently. Even if they haven’t, the lost property lot could bundle this up with the rest to donate afterwards.’

‘Go on then.’ He watched while she tied it around her waist for safekeeping, then peered over her shoulder, his gaze taken with something catching the sunlight beyond the tangled trunks of the hedging.

He brushed past her, unwilling to take his eyes off the glistening item in case he lost it.

Something like a tin can or a discarded crisp packet, or––

‘Jesus Christ,’ he managed, before spinning around, the back of his hand to his mouth as he gagged.

‘What’s wrong?’ Susie started to walk towards him, concern etched into her features. ‘Babe?’

‘Don’t come any closer,’ he said, his voice trembling. He tugged his mobile phone from his pocket with a shaking hand, the other grabbing hold of her wrist and pulling her away, putting as much distance as possible between them and the thorny brambles. ‘Don’t look.’

‘Andrew, what’s going on? You’re scaring me.’

He let go of her as the call went through, his stomach lurching as the operator answered.

‘I-I need the police,’ he said. ‘There’s a woman… There’s so much blood… I think she’s dead.’

TWO

Detective Inspector Kay Hunter drummed her fingers on the steering wheel of the scratched and dented silver pool car and fought back the first words that sprang to mind.

For a start, the air conditioning in the vehicle had ceased working two days ago when she and her colleague, Detective Sergeant Ian Barnes, had been stuck on the Sittingbourne Road after a four-hour meeting at Kent Police headquarters in Gravesend.

Then, the electric window mechanism had refused to work when they left the Palace Avenue police station this morning, encasing them within a metal canister that was slowly cooking them as the queue of traffic inched forward.

A dismal May had given way to a blistering June, the county town heaving with tourists and the pubs and nightclubs full to brimming every night as people began their summer holidays.

Another few weeks, and the schools would close as well, adding another disruptive element to the town centre as bored teenagers hunted in packs for easy distractions.

Kay huffed her fringe from her forehead and eyed the junior constable beyond the windscreen who was manning a hastily erected security cordon, his face flushed while he tried remonstrating with a drunken festival-goer who was old enough to know better.

‘Go on, say it,’ Barnes murmured. ‘I dare you.’

The older detective put his mobile phone in his shirt pocket and rolled up his sleeves, a waft of whatever deodorant he was wearing these days carrying across to where she sat.

‘They’re doing the best they can in the circumstances,’ she said.

‘Spoken like a true leader.’

‘Hmm.’

The junior constable spotted her then, his eyebrows shooting upwards before he waved two more cars through and stooped to her window.

Kay sighed, opened her door and waited while he stepped back in surprise.

‘Don’t ask,’ she said. ‘Where’s the outer cordon?’

He turned and pointed beyond the park’s permanent snack bar. ‘If you park over there, guv, and follow the path taking the right fork, you’ll find DC Piper at the crime scene beside a copse of trees at the top of the hill. The pathologist got here fifteen minutes ago.’

‘Good, thanks.’

Kay slammed the door shut and eased the car forward, weaving it carefully around a party of forty-somethings wearing a variety of branded T-shirts that echoed her own musical tastes.

‘Jesus, I thought that lot broke up years ago,’ said Barnes, craning his neck to stare at one of them as they passed.

‘Maybe the pension coffers needed a top up.’

‘Don’t tell me they’re playing here this weekend?’

‘They were. They’re meant to be the headline act on the main stage tonight.’ Kay grimaced. ‘I’m glad I’m not going to be the one telling their manager they’ll be rescheduling for another year. If they last that long. Did you see the drummer’s photo in the paper last week?’

Barnes chuckled. ‘Don’t tell me – you gave Laura the job of telling them, didn’t you?’

‘I figured her charms would perhaps soften the blow.’ Kay turned the car into a space beside a plain off-white van and switched off the engine. ‘Christ, Ian – what a way to start a weekend.’

She reached over, plucked a lightweight grey-coloured summer jacket off the back seat and climbed out, falling into step beside her colleague as they walked past the snack bar.

A crowd had gathered beside the serving window, all eyes turning to watch them accusingly, as if it were their fault that the weekend had been ruined.

A woman in her twenties with tangled brunette hair down to her waist, denim shorts and a green tank top stumbled over to them, a half-empty alco-pop bottle in her grip and a smouldering roll-up squished between the fingers of her left hand. ‘You sha be gettin’ shome-one to sor’ this out. We paid ’undreds for our tickets, y’know.’

Kay reeled back from the stench of alcohol and unwashed skin, and waved the woman away. ‘There’ll be an announcement from the main stage in due course. And you might want to go easy on that stuff. It’s going to be a long day.’

‘Feck off.’ The girl snarled, then pirouetted and wobbled back to her friends.

Kay gritted her teeth. ‘At times like this, I wish we could tell them. At least then they might be more cooperative.’

‘It’ll be all over the news before long,’ said Barnes.

She peered over her shoulder to where a television crew were setting up beside the queuing traffic, the presenter thrusting her microphone under the noses of infuriated ticket holders who were being turned away. ‘Christ, this is going to go national too, isn’t it?’

Her mobile phone trilled in her pocket, and she pulled it out, sighing at the familiar name on the screen. ‘Hold on, Ian. I’m going to have to take this. Guv?’

‘Are you on scene yet?’

The familiar bark of Detective Chief Inspector Devon Sharp carried easily over the phone’s speaker, and she hastily turned down the volume before following Barnes towards the path leading away from the snack bar.

‘Just got here, guv. The perimeter cordons have been set up, and Traffic have officers here diverting vehicles away from the site. It’s taking a while by the look of things though, especially as people want an explanation that we can’t give them.’

‘I’ve spoken to the Chief Super. She’s agreed to release another twenty officers from Ashford and Sevenoaks to assist on scene––’

‘Guv, with respect – any chance you can make sure they’re experienced?’ Kay turned around, slowing while she walked backwards and watched the newly qualified constables who were trying to calm the increasingly fractious crowd. ‘Things could kick off any moment here.’

‘We’ll send four mounted patrols as well, then,’ said Sharp. ‘About time those bloody horses got some exercise. They’re costing us enough to feed.’

‘That’d be great, thanks.’ She hurried after Barnes, who had reached the lip of the hill and was waiting for her beside the next cordon of blue and white crime scene tape. ‘We’re about to get suited up, so I’ll give you another update in an hour or so.’

‘I’ll be waiting,’ said Sharp. ‘We’ll hold fire on sending out the press release until I hear from you in case we can share any more details to help with the investigation.’

‘Thanks, guv.’

Barnes raised an eyebrow when she caught up with him. ‘Is he sending reinforcements?’

‘And the cavalry.’

‘Blimey, you must’ve done something right in your review this week.’ He held up the tape for her to duck under, then paused while a familiar uniformed constable crossed to where they stood, a clipboard in his hand. ‘Morning, Aaron.’

‘Morning.’ Aaron Stewart removed his cap and ran his hand across short cropped brown hair that was already damp with sweat, then thrust the clipboard at Kay together with a black pen. ‘Guv, we’ve set up a second cordon around the crime scene – this one’s just to keep the rabble away. The two people who discovered the woman’s body have been interviewed, and we’ve got them down at one of the St John’s Ambulance tents to give them a bit of privacy. Gavin figured you’d want to speak to them yourself before he sends them home.’

‘Good, thanks.’ Kay scrawled her name and handed back the formal record sheet. ‘Where’s home for them?’

‘She’s from Burnham, he lives on that new estate off the Loose road.’ Aaron tucked the clipboard under his arm. ‘I’ve also had a couple of constables make a start going through the bags of rubbish that had been collected from this area prior to them finding the victim. Looks like they possibly picked up some of her clothing – a scarf – hence that extra cordon in case there’s anything else lying around. I’m just waiting for some more officers so we can start a fingertip search.’

Kay nodded. ‘Sounds like you’ve got it all under control. Where d’you want us to walk?’

In reply, Aaron pointed to a line of tape that had been weighed down with stones, its snake-like route leading across the grass towards a small white polyester tent. ‘Just follow that, guv – Gavin popped a few spare protective suits in the tent for you.’

Barnes led the way, the pair of them lost in thought as they hurried over to the tent and took turns pulling on the all-in-one white suits over their clothes.

Balancing on one leg then the other to tug plastic booties over her flat shoes, Kay paused to scratch at the trickle of sweat that was forming under the hood, making her scalp itch.

The sun was now beating a fierce path across the morning sky, and it would be several degrees warmer before she was finished here.

She heard murmured voices beyond the tent flap, and opened it to find Barnes talking on his mobile phone, his brow furrowed.

‘What’s up?’ she said when he ended the call. ‘Problem?’

‘Headquarters are only going to be able to provide an extra five admin staff from tomorrow,’ he replied, tucking the phone back in his shirt pocket and rezipping his protective suit. ‘And two of them are part-time contractors so we could lose them at any minute.’

‘For f––’

‘Guv, got a minute?’

Kay turned at the familiar voice to see Detective Constable Gavin Piper encased in a similar suit to her own, marching across the grass towards them.

As he approached, he pulled back his hood, his normally spiky hair flattened against his forehead, and there was a determined expression in his eyes.

‘Aaron told us about the couple who found the victim,’ Kay said. ‘What have you found out about her so far?’

‘Lucas reckons she’s in her mid-twenties to early thirties,’ said the younger detective. ‘Obviously he won’t commit to anything formally until he does the post mortem, but there are strangulation marks around her neck and bruising to her inner thighs…’

He broke off, his eyes troubled, and Kay frowned.

‘What is it, Gav?’

‘Her fingers, guv. Whoever did this to her, they’ve sliced off her fingertips.’

THREE

Kay stared at her colleague for a moment, stunned.

The musical chirp of a song thrush echoed around her, the noise tracking back and forth between the branches of the beech trees that rustled in a gentle breeze now carrying up the hillside towards them, the light notes at odds with the weight pressing on her chest.

Throat dry, she glanced at Barnes to see a horrified expression creasing his face.

‘She’s got bruising to an eye socket and cheek bones too,’ Gavin said, his voice dropping to a murmur. ‘There could be more, but Lucas is still with her.’

‘Any ID?’ Barnes said, the desperation in his voice tangible.

‘None on her. She’s only wearing a summer dress. The two who found her – Susie Hinsen and Andrew Bressett – found some underwear over there in the grass on the other side of the hedge shielding her body from the path, and a scarf. We’ve also found a pair of sandals thrown amongst the ivy just over by that dip in the grass.’ Gavin tugged at the puckered polyester collar of his suit and exhaled. ‘We haven’t found a bag, or a phone, or anything else yet. The bags of rubbish they’d been collecting prior to finding her have been taken by the CSIs for processing, just in case there’s anything else that can be connected to her.’

‘How far has Lucas got with his initial examination?’ said Kay.

‘He’s covered her hands to preserve any evidence of her attacker. There’s traces of blood splatter up her arms that may be hers, or perhaps her killer’s if she managed to lash out at them.’

‘Only traces?’

‘The blood on her arms and hands has been smudged, guv – perhaps her attacker tried to wipe it away afterwards, something like that.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Hopefully we’ll find what was used to do that once we widen the search but I’ve heard that could take a while…’

‘Aaron mentioned he’s waiting on some help, so that might change over the course of the morning.’ Kay peered around him towards the crime scene tape stretched between two stainless-steel stakes. ‘Do you want to show us what we’re dealing with?’

‘Sure, follow me.’

Gavin trudged back over to the inner cordon, Kay following as he then weaved between a series of brightly coloured plastic markers dotted about the demarcated path.

The long grass swooshed against the polyester fabric of her suit, brushing against her legs as she drew closer to a group of four crime scene investigators, their heads bowed as they conducted a meticulous analysis of the immediate area.

She forced herself to batten down her emotions, the anger that a woman had been brutally slain. The despair that a human life had been taken, and now represented a scientific specimen to be recorded and analysed to find the answers they so desperately sought.

‘Kay.’

She blinked, giving herself a slight shake as a figure rose to his feet, keen brown eyes peering at her over a mask that obscured the rest of his features.

‘Lucas. Thanks for getting here so quickly.’

‘It was my rostered weekend off, but in the circumstances…’ He glanced down, and sighed. ‘I couldn’t say no, could I?’

Kay moved closer, hearing Barnes’s sharp intake of breath.

The woman lay on her back, one arm thrust away from her body as if trying to break a fall, the other bent awkwardly under her hip. Her red hair was chopped into a stylish shoulder-length bob, the bright colour a stark contrast to the blue-grey hue of her skin. Three studs pierced her right ear, each a perfectly formed silver star, and a slim silver ankle bracelet curled around her foot where it had slipped.

Then Kay’s gaze moved to the woman’s fingers encased in plastic protective bags, and she took an involuntary step backwards at the dried blood running down them.

‘Gavin told you about these then,’ Lucas said. ‘I’ve checked – every single one of them has had the tip sliced off, but in a hurry. Maybe it was done to make it harder to identify her.’

‘Did her killer do that before or after…?’ said Barnes, his voice gruff.

‘I can’t say, not until I’ve conducted the post mortem.’ The pathologist dropped to a crouch once more, and gently picked up the woman’s hand, his gloved fingers cradling her wrist. ‘I’ll run swabs on these wounds too, in case there’s any trace evidence from her killer, but––’

‘If whoever did this was determined to stop us finding out her identity, then they’ll have also been careful to hide theirs,’ Kay said. She frowned, her thoughts already tumbling over one another. ‘Why go to such extremes I wonder?’

Lucas shot her a look, the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkling with a sad amusement. ‘I’ll leave those sorts of questions to you to solve, Kay. In the meantime, I need to finish here so Harriet’s team can get to work.’

‘Okay. Thanks. When do you think you’ll be able to do the PM?’

‘I’ll give Simon a call when I’ve finished here and ask him to check the diary. As early as possible next week.’ Lucas’s gaze returned to the dead woman. ‘She’ll take priority over any of the hospital cases, I can promise you that.’

Kay paused while Barnes turned away, taking in the brutalised features of the young woman, committing them to memory.

After a moment, she clenched her fists, then turned to Gavin. ‘I need to speak to the couple who found her while you finish here.’

‘No problem, guv. Like I said, we put them in one of the St John’s Ambulance tents away from prying eyes. I was going to arrange for a car to take them home too, given that the media are here now.’

‘Not to mention everyone with a mobile phone will be posting about this to social media the minute they get a whiff of what’s going on.’ Kay sighed. ‘We can’t really afford the manpower to act as a taxi service, but I agree it makes perfect sense in the circumstances.’

‘Leave it with me, guv. I’ll wander down there when I’m done here. That should give you plenty of time to speak with them.’

‘Okay.’ She turned to go, then paused and glanced over her shoulder. ‘And, Gav? Good work getting all of this organised so quickly.’

He straightened then, a modicum of stress leaving his tanned features. ‘Thanks, guv.’

FOUR

By the time Kay and Barnes disposed of their protective suits in a designated biohazard bin and walked back to the snack bar, the crowd had grown considerably.

Most people wore perplexed expressions, some talking to volunteers that were milling about with an air of distraction, their movements nervous while they busied themselves with seemingly mundane tasks, anything to avoid eye contact with the ticket holders.

One of the television crews had braved the ruckus, a cameraman and sound engineer facing a reporter who was attempting to interview frustrated ticket holders while looking distinctly out of place in his suit trousers and shirt. He wore a fixed smile while listening to two men who were singing at the top of their voices in between answering his questions and waving tin cans in the air, slopping beer over themselves at regular intervals.

The woman who had accosted Kay earlier now sat cross-legged on one of the wooden picnic tables, gesticulating wildly with her hands while shouting at one of the men who crowded around her.

A couple with a toddler in a pushchair hurried along the path, the man casting a sideways expression at the reporter and the growing crowd before holding up a hand to stop Kay as they passed.

‘Are you police? What’s going on?’ he said. ‘We had a family pass for the festival but someone said something about a body being found. Is that true?’

Kay felt an almost imperceptible shiver as heads turned to face them, curious expressions on the nearest revellers.

The reporter lowered his microphone and stared for a moment. Then a predatory smile appeared, and he beckoned to the cameraman and sound engineer before pushing his way towards her and Barnes.

‘I’m unable to comment at the moment,’ she said to the man and his worried-looking wife. ‘There’ll be an announcement by the organisers in due course.’

‘Your lot said that an hour ago,’ another man yelled across, his skin an angry shade of sunburned pink. ‘We’re still fucking waiting. Who’s dead?’

‘Guv, over here.’ Barnes glared at the news crew, stopping them in their tracks, then gave Kay a gentle nudge, pointing to a large blue canvas tent closer to the car park.

‘Those reinforcements and horses better bloody turn up soon,’ she said through gritted teeth. She cursed as her heel turned in a deep pothole, nodding her thanks to him when he reached out to steady her. ‘Things are bound to kick off if this lot don’t get some answers, and that reporter isn’t going to help. We’ll need more manpower to interview as many people as possible as they’re leaving too, just to make sure we get names and contact details.’

A familiar face greeted her outside the tent, his height lending an extra air of authority and his stance one of high alert for anyone tempted to approach. He nodded as they drew near.

‘Guv. Do you want to speak with the couple who found her?’

‘In a minute, Kyle.’ Kay lowered her voice and pulled him aside while Barnes took his place and glared at the crowd. ‘What have they said to you so far?’

Probationary Detective Constable Kyle Walker turned his back to the crowd before continuing, and Kay appreciated the gesture – it would stop any would-be lipreader from eavesdropping on their conversation.

‘They’re both shaken up, as you can imagine,’ he said. ‘I had the first aiders check them over when we brought them here, but I think the initial shock is starting to wear off. They’ve confirmed neither of them recognised the victim, and after speaking with them I checked out their alibis for the past twenty-four hours. Everything’s okay on that front. As for where the victim was found, the bloke – Andrew – said that the woman organising the clean-up volunteers simply allocated that part of the park to them this morning when they turned up.’

‘Have you spoken to her yet?’

‘She’s on the list, a Dana Schuldberg. There wasn’t anyone else available to stay with these two, so…’

Kay nodded. ‘Don’t worry. Give me her details, and I’ll speak to her.’

‘Thanks, guv.’ He pulled out his notebook and held it out.

Taking a photo of the open page on her phone, Kay craned her neck to peer around the side of the tent. ‘Where do I find her?’

‘There’s a central administration tent two rows behind this one, before you get to the car park.’ Kyle jerked his chin towards the swelling number of people gathering around. ‘She’s probably in there because they’re having to organise getting this lot off site without starting a riot.’

‘Okay, thanks.’

Stepping over a taut bright red guy rope, she passed a signboard with the familiar logo of the St John’s Ambulance first aid volunteers’ association and pushed her way into the tent, Barnes at her side.

A soft blue hue enveloped her, dulling the harsh light from outside, the thick canvas soaking away some of the noise from the revellers.

Reminding herself to remain professional instead of emitting a sigh of relief, Kay cast her gaze about until her eyes adjusted, noting that the tent had been set up such that the front of it provided a rough reception-like area with two trestle tables. Beyond those, three cubicles were sectioned off by more canvas, the flaps pulled back to reveal camp beds and first aid equipment neatly organised into plastic boxes of various sizes. Labels were stuck to the outside of the boxes clearly denoting what could be found where in a hurry.

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she spotted a couple sitting on a pair of canvas camping chairs off to her right, the woman’s face blotchy while she dabbed at her eyes with a paper tissue.

The man beside her had been leaning his elbows on his knees but straightened as Kay and Barnes moved towards them, his face inquisitive.

‘Are you detectives?’ he said.

‘Yes. I’m Detective Inspector Kay Hunter, and this is my colleague, Detective Sergeant Ian Barnes,’ she said, holding out her warrant card. ‘I realise this is a difficult time for you, but we’re going to need to ask you some more questions.’

‘That’s okay,’ the woman sniffed. She reached out for the man’s hand, their fingers entwining. ‘We want to do anything we can to help.’

Barnes crossed to where a rack of wooden chairs had been propped against the side of one of the trestle tables. He returned with two and unfolded one of them for Kay.

She murmured her thanks, waited until her colleague had pulled out his notebook and then turned her attention back to the couple. ‘Okay, so it’s Susie and Andrew, is that correct?’

The pair nodded in unison.

‘Take me back to first thing this morning,’ she said. ‘Were you staying on site overnight?’

‘Yeah,’ said Andrew. ‘That was part of the deal for volunteering with the clean-up. Susie found the details online after we missed out on getting tickets. It meant we got a weekend pass for half price. It seemed like a fair swap at the time…’

He broke off, forlorn.

‘I knew someone who did this last year,’ said Susie quietly. ‘We were given a tent pitch away from the main section so it was a bit quieter. It meant we could – sort of – get a few hours’ sleep before getting up in the morning to start tidying up before the music kicks off again at ten o’clock.’

Andrew emitted a strangled snort. ‘Not that we got much sleep. The music might’ve stopped at midnight but most people were still partying until the sun came up.’

‘What time did you leave your tent?’

‘Just after six,’ he said. ‘There was a team meeting at half past six, same as yesterday, just to go over basic health and safety stuff––’

‘There are a few needles around, things like that,’ Susie added. ‘And the organisers are paranoid someone might get sick so there’s a whole raft of rules about those. And of course there’s a risk of sunstroke this weekend, so they were doling out those half-litre bottles of water for us too.’

‘How long did the meeting last for?’ said Kay.

‘Only fifteen minutes or so,’ Andrew said. ‘We all had to take part in an induction meeting on Wednesday before the VIP pass holders turned up on Thursday so the morning meetings are basically just to reiterate what was said then, and for us to raise any concerns.’

‘Have any volunteers raised concerns about anything?’

‘No, not that I know of.’

‘Susie?’

The woman shook her head. ‘To be fair, it’s been really well organised.’

‘Okay, so what happened after the health and safety stuff was dealt with?’

‘We were told which areas of the park to go and clean up,’ said Andrew. ‘They change it around every day so you don’t get the same area as you cleaned the day before.’

‘That’s because some areas are worse than others,’ Susie explained. She gave a slight shrug. ‘Makes it fairer, so one team isn’t stuck with the same place every day.’

‘Yes, that makes sense,’ said Kay. She glanced at Barnes. ‘We’ll need to speak with whoever tidied that area yesterday.’

He nodded in response, his head still bowed to his notebook.

Kay turned back to the couple. ‘What time did you leave the team meeting?’

‘We were probably on our way by seven,’ said Andrew. ‘They wanted us to get a head start before it got too hot. That’s the problem this year – apparently the clean-up didn’t usually start until half seven in previous years. We would normally have had an extra hour in bed.’

‘Which way did you approach the slope and the hedgerow where you found the victim?’

‘We used the path, the one that takes a right fork away from the lake. It takes you up to the top of the hill, and then you can follow it round in a big loop around to the right before it curves back down to where all the stages are.’

‘Did you see anyone else while you were walking towards the top of the hill?’

‘No,’ said Susie. ‘We were the first ones to get to the top of the hill. Lewis, who was following us, was quite a way behind––’

‘He’s in his sixties and loves the music but can’t afford a ticket so he’s been volunteering for years at different festivals.’ Andrew managed a smile. ‘He’s a right character – some of the regular bands know him well.’

‘The woman who was organising us all got him to take the biohazard bin around to the different volunteers who are dotted around the park,’ Susie continued. ‘But like I said, he wasn’t that close when we first got up there…’

‘But then you found that needle,’ said Andrew, ‘and Lewis joined us for a minute before he wandered off to empty the bin because it was getting full.’

Kay rose from her seat and eyed the couple. ‘We’re waiting for reinforcements to help with crowd control, but you’re free to go. We’ll probably have more questions as our investigation progresses, so if we could contact you again…?’

‘Absolutely.’ Andrew reached out for Susie’s hand and gave an involuntary shiver. ‘We gave our details to the other detective out there, so…’

‘All right, we’ll be in touch.’

Pushing her way out of the tent, Kay squinted in the harsh sunlight and eyed the brightly decorated stalls selling branded merchandise and clothing.

‘We’ll speak to that Dana Schuldberg,’ she said, ‘and then we’ll head to the incident room and update the team there. In the meantime, can you––’

‘Excuse me, are you in charge here?’ A man in his late sixties wearing a black suit jacket over a white T-shirt and blue jeans barged a younger couple out of the way and elbowed past Kyle. ‘I need a word.’

Kay cocked an eyebrow. ‘And you are?’

‘Brian Kasprak.’ He thrust out a hand, which she ignored. ‘I’m the manager for the headline act.’ Kasprak looked at each of them in turn, emitting a nervous laugh. ‘You’ve heard of them, right?’

‘Vaguely,’ said Barnes.

‘Right, right.’ Another splutter of laughter.

‘Brian? You in there?’ A voice cut through the canvas wall, and then a woman appeared beside Kyle, shading her eyes. ‘You need to let me have some more photographs for social media. And there’s a Polish radio station wanting a quote from you for their lunchtime news segment. Like, now.’

‘I’ll be there in a sec, Melanie. Hang on.’ He turned back to Kay. ‘See, the thing is, the lads are due to headline tonight, and they’re really excited about it, and well… this is all a bit of an inconvenience, isn’t it?’

‘An inconvenience?’ Kay said.

‘All these people, all with tickets and supporting live music,’ Kasprak continued. ‘It’d be a shame to disappoint them, after all, the band’s only been out of retirement for six months and this is––’

Kay held up her hand. ‘Mr Kasprak, we’ve yet to speak with the festival organisers and we’re still conducting an active investigation. As our colleagues have no doubt already told you, there’ll be an announcement in due course. Until then, if you wouldn’t mind…’

The manager’s face fell as he stepped aside, but then a hopeful expression filled his eyes. ‘Did you get a ticket?’

‘I didn’t need to,’ Kay said. ‘I could hear it from my place with the windows shut just fine, thanks.’

FIVE

Detective Constable Gavin Piper tugged the sleeves of the protective polyester coveralls from his arms, then muttered his thanks as he dropped the damp suit into a biohazard bag that a junior CSI held out.

Beside the tent that had been set up to house a temporary base for the forensic team, there was a plastic crate of water bottles that someone had scrounged off the festival organisers, and he twisted one open, gulping half of the warm contents in seconds.

The tent was several sizes smaller than the colourful ones peppering the campsite below the gentle slope, and its purpose more sombre.

He felt a growing sense of unease while a steady stream of investigators moved back and forth in their bulky protective suits, their focus on the various testing kits and samples that were being recorded and bagged as their search continued.

They ignored him while they worked, their concentration too great on the task at hand and the need for answers growing more urgent as the morning progressed.