Greed: A DI Scott Baker Novel by Jay Nadal Read Free Book Online

obscurity.
    Moments before completely vanishing into the vortex, Scott jolted awake, his breath in ragged gasps. Tears were crawling down his cheeks, his pillow damp, the bedding a jumbled heap by his feet.
    He lay there for a few minutes trying to calm down. He hated those nightmares, not only did they kill his sleep, but they kept dragging him to a place that he was consciously trying to bury. Desperate to shake off this melancholy mood, he climbed out of the bed and peered out through his blinds.
    The night sky was fading into a predawn lightness. He couldn’t stop thinking about the memory. He’d had it before and it always left him feeling drained and achingly lonely. He missed Tina and Becky, the light and love from his life extinguished in a blink of the eye, and he was powerless to do anything about it. He only wished that he’d joined them.
    When he’d chased away those troubling thoughts, his mind turned to another disturbing subject: the callous murder of Eddy Stone.
    Scott needed to get out and clear his head, it was just approaching 6 a.m. and the light was just breaking over Hove. He threw on a pair of joggers and hoodie and headed out for a quick walk to grab some fresh morning air and shake off his dark mood.
     
    ***
     
    Within ten minutes he was out on the Kingsway, where he could cross over, cut through the Hove and Kingsway Bowls and Social Club lawns and small green roofed beach huts that skirted the pebble beach.
    Standing on the beach in the crispness of the cold spring morning, Scott closed his eyes and took lungful’s of fresh sea air.
    There was something magical and soothing about sea air and its ability to instantly calm and centre Scott. This fresh natural force seemed to course through every muscle, vein and cell of his being, ridding him of the sickening dull feeling that resided in the pit of his stomach and the middle of his heart.
    Scott opened his eyes at the sound of seagulls singing out their distinctive chatter. At that moment, with the chorus of seagulls overhead and the waves gently pouring onto the pebbles, Scott could not think of anywhere else he’d rather be.
    This was Scott’s own little piece of paradise, his way of escaping reality and the parts of life most people never saw. When he was on the beach, nothing mattered, nothing crossed his mind, and it offered him the space that his mind and body needed to balance out life and life’s experiences.
     
    ***
     
    It was just after 9 a.m. when Scott arrived outside the Phoenix Nightclub in Preston Street.
    Less than twenty-four hours ago the street had been the scene of a horrific murder, and for the best part of the day, the street had been sealed off whilst scientific forensic officers bagged and catalogued every scrap of evidence they’d discovered. The area had been photographed in meticulous detail. Any relevant signs or points of interest like bloodstains were marked, numbered and photographed.
    With the advent of body cams a few years ago, and more recently, police issue mobile phones with face time capability, officers on the ground could instantly relay a crime scene back to officers at the station for assessment and input. Scott found these photographs and videos were often invaluable in piecing together an event so that his officers who were not able to attend the scene could get an understanding for how it looked.
    The scene had been a calm but busy hub yesterday as the area was marked out and searched in a linear pattern with a n orderly line of officers inching forwards to ensure nothing was overlooked.
    Now the street was open for business once again, the blood had been washed away by council workers, traders were going about their business, and curious members of the public were still turning up in the hope of seeing some remnants of the aftermath.
    Today’s news is tomorrows chip paper, Scott reminded himself.
    Both nightclubs had been kept under police guard since yesterday’s events to stop anyone from