Free BLOOD SECRETS a gripping crime thriller full of suspense by Gretta Mulrooney

The area in Epping Forest where he was found at eight in the morning was combed but nothing was retrieved except his leather rucksack. His wallet was gone but there were no fingerprints or DNA other than Teddy’s, so whoever attacked him came prepared with gloves. It had poured with rain all night, so it’s possible that evidence was washed away. He had no defence wounds, no scratches on his hands, nothing under his fingernails.’
    ‘So the attack came as a complete surprise, no chance to put up a fight.’
    ‘So it seems. We’re looking at a sudden, frenzied assault. His house was searched. There were interviews with family, teachers and a couple of classmates. He appeared to have led an oddly quiet, unsocial life for a teenager. No leads to anything or anyone. The family seem to have been quite strange. There’s a medical report on the mother, saying she was on big-hitting anti-depressants and appeared to be in a bit of a fog most of the time. The sister, Sheila, was hysterical in the early stages and took quite a bit of calming before she could be interviewed. She turned up in Epping Forest and caused a fuss, demanding to see the exact spot where Teddy had been found. She was in such a state the local police had to drive her back to London. The father was in Australia and flew back, but just temporarily. That’s about it. Have you already got all that?’
    ‘Pretty much. The father had run off with his wife’s younger sister.’
    ‘Ouch! I’ve heard of keeping it in the family . . .’
    ‘Hmm, a touch biblical. Nothing significant was found in Teddy’s bedroom? He was big on mysticism, Celts and Druids.’
    Nora shook her head. ‘There were a number of books and drawings he’d done but nothing that seemed important. No diaries. No links to any Druid activities or organisations were found. Have the family still got stuff of his?’
    ‘According to Sheila, the sister, the mother burnt it all about a year later. Sheila told me that a DI Peterson was in charge of the investigation.’
    ‘That’s right. I checked him. He’s retired now, living in Brighton. He wasn’t highly thought of, I have to say. The consensus seems to have been that he was a corner-cutter, serving his time, waiting to retire. I have an email address for him, so I’ll send it to you.’ Nora shut her laptop. ‘Well, I wish you good luck with it. Let me know how it goes. It would be a result if someone was nailed for it.’ She sat back and finished her drink, saying it was good to be at this end of the day.
    Swift smiled at her. ‘I wondered . . . would you like to have dinner? There’s a decent bistro up the road.’
    As he spoke the door opened and Nora’s eyes lit up. She beamed over his shoulder, waving her fingers. A compact, well-built man with cropped blond hair and carrying a briefcase came over and sat beside her. He nodded to Swift and touched Nora’s arm in a way that indicated intimacy.
    ‘Ty, this is Alistair,’ she said. ‘We’re off to dinner now, in fact.’
    ‘Hi there,’ Alistair said, ‘good to meet you. I hear you’re a rower.’
    ‘That’s right. Do you row?’
    ‘Only on the machine at the gym, but I think I’d better learn to keep Nora happy.’ He took her hand and squeezed it, leaning in to her.
    Nora laughed. ‘Ah, a man whose mother has taught him the secret art of hanging on to a woman!’
    Swift nodded and drank up, thanking Nora for the information and wishing them a good evening. He headed into the night, that tasted now of disappointment. He shook his head ruefully. He could only be grateful that Nora’s new man had arrived when he did, before he had made a complete fool of himself.
    * * *
    Swift stood looking despairingly at his much-loved boat. It had cost him four thousand pounds and now it lay mangled at his feet. Thierry, the manager of the rowing club, had called him first thing, saying that he had discovered a break-in. Swift’s boat was the only one damaged.
    ‘Looks like