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

someone’s taken an axe to it,’ Thierry said glumly.
    ‘Yep. It’s a thorough job.’
    ‘I’ve called the police. You’ll be covered by our insurance.’
    ‘I’m sorry about this. Someone is harassing me and now it’s spilled over on to you.’
    ‘You’ve suffered the only damage. The door lock can be fixed easily. I’ve been suggesting an alarm system for a while. I think it’s time to do something about it.’
    ‘The police will no doubt suggest it.’
    ‘You’re welcome to borrow a boat until you get a replacement. I know it won’t be the same but . . .’
    ‘Thanks. I’ll take you up on that.’
    Swift crouched by the wrecked boat, touching a splintered segment. It had become a part of him, his companion on many river journeys, as familiar to him as his friends. He stood at the club door and looked out at the choppy, fast-flowing Thames, waiting for the police to arrive. Maybe this time they would get a fingerprint, but somehow he doubted it. He had planned to row for an hour before breakfast. He could almost taste his anger and frustration. Who are you ? The river flowed on, unheeding.
    His phone rang and he heard Sheila Bartlett’s breathy voice.
    ‘Hello, Mr Swift. I just wondered if you’d found anything out yet.’
    ‘Nothing significant, no. Investigations do take some time, you know, especially when the incident occurred years ago.’
    ‘Oh yes, of course. I understand. But you have started? You’ve been speaking to people?’
    ‘I’ve talked to your brother, your aunt and the police.’
    ‘Oh, that’s good. I’ve just snatched a moment between meetings. The head of service is visiting us today so I’ve had to make sure everything is ship-shape. The buck stops with poor old me and if I don’t check all the staff and equipment myself there are things that just don’t get done or left in a mess and—’
    Swift cut across her bragging. ‘You didn’t tell me you went to Epping Forest after your brother was found.’
    ‘Oh, didn’t I? I suppose I forgot. As you said, it was a long time ago and so much was happening, I was all over the place. I have to go now to chair a meeting with the top brass, no rest for the wicked! I’ll keep in touch.’
    It was PC Simons who arrived to take details about the break-in, part of trying to offer a seamless service, he said. Swift guessed he had been on a training course recently. He was a robust, fresh-faced man with a strong handshake. He stood, gazing at Swift’s boat, shaking his head and stroking his neat beard.
    ‘This is crap, isn’t it?’ he said cheerily. You still have no idea who might be targeting you?’
    ‘No. I’ve given it plenty of thought. I take it you have no useful information for me?’
    ‘Afraid not. I suppose whoever it is has moved away from your home, at least.’
    ‘Oddly enough, I don’t find that terribly comforting.’
    ‘No. Sorry, sir. A bit crass of me.’ He coloured up.
    ‘That’s okay but you do need to be more tactful with the public. I can’t tell you anything about this incident, except it’s my boat. Whoever’s doing this is a careful planner and using their imagination to keep changing tactics.’
    ‘We’ll do what we can, as you know. I’ll make sure you get a crime number today for your insurer.’
    Swift spent twenty minutes with him, then left for home. He stocked up on wine, cheeses and bread on the way, reflecting on Sheila’s call. She seemed selective about her memories in a way that snagged his interest. Her phoning him seemed another expression of her need to exercise control. Barbara Stead’s comments about her lying were also worth further exploration. He couldn’t help guessing that she was brewing the tea for the important meeting rather than chairing it.
    * * *
    Swift had an arrangement with Cedric. He borrowed his tenant’s car occasionally, in return for takeaway meals, odd jobs or a bottle of wine. He had decided that, having met Teddy, he should visit Low Copsley