Mary-Jane Riley - Dark Waters - The addictive psychological thriller you won’t be able to put down

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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2018

Copyright © Mary-Jane Riley 2018

Cover design by Micaela Alcaino © HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 2018

Cover photograph © Shutterstock.com

Mary-Jane Riley asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it

are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,

events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © March 2018 ISBN: 9780008285104

Version: 2018-02-19

For The Tillster

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

The Norfolk Broads

Three Weeks Earlier

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

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Keep Reading...

About the Publisher

The Norfolk Broads – a haven of peace and tranquility simply waiting to be discovered and explored. And a boating holiday on the Broads opens up a world of beauty, cruising through reed marshes, woodland and meadow. Find hidden waterways teeming with wildlife. Moor close to welcoming riverside pubs, quaint villages, and market towns. Choose a Harper’s Holidays cruiser and start unwinding today!

Decomposition sets in.

First, both hearts stop beating and the cells and tissues are starved of oxygen. The brain cells are the first to die – all that ‘being’ ended.

Blood drains from the capillaries, pooling in lower-lying parts of the body, staining the skin black. Rigor mortis has been and gone by now, the muscles becoming stiff three hours after death, but within seventy-two hours rigor mortis has subsided. The bodies are cool. They are pliable again.

As the cells die, bacteria begins to break them down. Enzymes in the pancreas cause each organ in each of the bodies to digest itself. Large blisters appear all over the bodies. Green slime oozes from decomposing tissue, and methane and hydrogen sulphide fill the air. Bloody froth trickles from the mouths and noses.

And all this time the insects are enjoying themselves. One fly can lay three hundred eggs on one corpse, and they will hatch within twenty-four hours. The hatching maggots use hooks in their mouths to scoop up any liquid seeping from the bodies. They are efficient, these maggots. Their breathing mechanism is located on the opposite end to their mouths so they can breathe and eat at the same time.

Within a day the maggots reach the second stage of their lives and burrow into the putrefying flesh.

The pleasure cruiser has been tied to the wooden mooring post on Poppy Island for at least three days. There has been no movement. The curtains are drawn. The doors and windows are closed. Somebody will find them soon.

Gary Lodge and his wife, Ronnie, both noticed the boat as they motored past the island on the second day of their holiday. It looked brand new, its white paintwork gleaming in the sunshine. Although it was the middle of the day, the curtains were closed. They didn’t remark on it to each other, though – Gary thought the people on board had probably been on the razz the night before (though when he thought about it later he realized there was no pub on the island and no way off it except by boat). Ronnie thought it was a case of daytime nookie; though, if it had been her, she would have left the curtains open.

Three days later, the Lodges, after lazy days of boating, drinking and sweaty sex, travelled back down the Broads.

‘Isn’t that the same boat?’ said Gary.

‘As what?’ Ronnie was enjoying the cool breeze on her face.

‘You know. As when we came by the other day. It had its curtains closed then. Still does.’

Ronnie smiled, put her arms around Gary and nuzzled into the crook of his neck. ‘Probably, babes. I don’t know. We’ve had a good time though, haven’t we?’ She didn’t want to think about other people, she wanted to keep hold of this loving feeling she had towards Gary – all too rare during their mundane everyday life that seemed to be filled with work and just getting by.

But Gary didn’t react to Ronnie’s amorous advances. He started to turn the wheel of the boat.

She looked up. ‘What are you doing now?’

‘Just want to have a look,’ he said, guiding the boat across the water and behind the other cruiser. ‘Tie her up, will you?’

Ronnie frowned. The loving feeling evaporating into thin air. She wanted to tell him to jump off the boat and tie the frigging thing up himself. He’d thought himself some sort of Captain Birdseye, but without the beard, the whole bloody holiday. But she didn’t say anything. She swallowed her irritation, sighed, grabbed the rope and jumped out onto the bank. That was one thing she wouldn’t miss: all this jumping on and off.

‘Okay,’ she called when she was done.

‘Done the right knot?’

Same question every time. ‘Yep.’

Gary stepped on to the bank, then hesitated.

‘What now?’ said Ronnie, hands on hips, scowling.

Gary rubbed his hand around his mouth. ‘I dunno.’

‘They’ve probably left it and gone somewhere. Done a runner or something. Come on, let’s get back on our boat. We’ve gotta get it back to the yard. I don’t want to be caught up with loads of traffic on the A12.’ She turned away from him and began fiddling with the rope.

‘It doesn’t …’ Gary hesitated. ‘It doesn’t feel right.’ He sniffed the air. ‘It smells funny.’

Ronnie sniffed too. ‘That’s just the countryside, isn’t it?’

Gary put a foot on the other boat and knocked on the sliding canopy. ‘Hello? Anybody there?’ He glanced at Ronnie, then tried the door. It was stuck.

He knocked again, and frowned. ‘I’m just gonna—’