Siena
156 pages
English

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156 pages
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Description

Welsh artist Sara Jenkins' husband and young son are killed during the shooting of a wealthy Italian in London. A year after the unsolved murders she meets a Canadian academic who helps her find a way out of her darkness. Sara travels alone to Siena to search for a killer and find closure. Her pain and grief drive her to the edge of madness as her life spins out of control.

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Informations

Publié par
Date de parution 08 avril 2021
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781915649089
Langue English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
After many years as an actor in film and television Phil moved into writing and producing feature films, series and single dramas for TV and radio, documentary and animation.
 
In 2017 he published his first novel and has just completed his third - all standalone crime thrillers.
 
Through his company, Funky Medics, he produced and wrote animations and books for the UK, Europe and US on health education.
 
Originally from Haverfordwest in Pembrokeshire, he now lives near Cardiff.
 
Visit: philrowlandswriter.com
 
 
Published in Great Britain in 2021
by
DIAMOND CRIME
 
ISBN 978-1-915649-08-9
 
Copyright © 2017/2021 Phil Rowlands
 
The right of Phil Rowlands to be identified as the author
of this work has been asserted in accordance with
the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1998
All rights reserved.
 
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in
a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any
means without the prior permission in writing of the publisher,
nor be circulated in any form of binding or cover other
than that in which it is published.
 
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any
resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely
coincidental.
 
Diamond Crime is an imprint of Diamond Publishing Ltd.
 
 
 
 
 
Thanks to Greg, Jeff, Steve and Jen
 
 
Book Cover Design
by
Jackson Bone
 
 
 
Cover photograph used under licence from
Christian Holzinger - Unsplash
 
 
 
 
 
 
Also by Phil Rowlands
Single Cell
 
And coming soon to Diamond Crime:
Time Slip
 
 
For information about authors
and their books,
visit www.diamondbooks.co.uk
 
 
 
 
 
 
To my wonderful family.
and
the memory of Walter, Elsie, Thelma and Leslie
 
 
 
 
Siena

PROLOGUE
 
At Paddington Railway Station, six-year-old Ben Jenkins watched the train as it curved around the track and slowly approached the end of the platform. He had his new camera pressed tightly against his eye. His finger was ready to press the button. His dad had told him that if he was going to take a picture of the train, it was better to wait until it stopped before doing it. If it was moving the photo might be all blurry and he wanted his mum and friends to be able to see it properly. The train was still quite a long way from the big red buffer stops. Ben was tall enough to see them on the other side of the ticket barrier. He thought about the story his dad had told him this morning on the train up from Wales, about Paddington Bear coming from his home a long way away in a country called Peru and being all on his own until a family found him. Ben wished it had been his family. Playing with Paddington would be fun. Ben thought he would have time to look around to see if he was still here before the train stopped and he could take his photo.
There was no sign of a little bear in a blue coat and red hat, but he did see lots of people of all ages, colours, and sizes as he turned his head, still holding the camera in position. Another thing his dad had said was keep still and try not to wobble the camera. When he turned back to the platform the train had stopped and he waited for a moment, making sure he had the front of the engine in the small frame before pressing the button.
Suddenly a dark figure with a gun came out of the crowd and moved quickly towards a middle-aged man standing behind Ben. The man seemed to realise the danger and as the gun was raised, he frantically looked around then grabbed the small boy in front of him. Ben dropped his camera as he was snatched up and held tightly against the man’s body. He struggled and screamed ‘Daddy!’
Ceri Jenkins, only a couple of metres away but in a crush of people looking at the departures board, heard Ben’s frantic cry. He searched for his son and saw him struggling in the man’s arms, roared his name, shoving people out of his way as he hurtled towards him.
The first bullet hit Ben, exited his small body, and punched into the man holding him. The second slammed into the man’s head as Ben fell from his arms, and the third and fourth hit Ceri as he threw himself at the dark figure with the gun. He was dead before he hit the ground. Then as quickly as he had appeared, the angel of death was gone. It had happened so fast that at first only a young man, now catatonic with shock and covered in blood and bits of brain, was aware that something terrible had happened. Soon others saw and the cacophony of panic began.
* * *
Sara Jenkins was walking fast on her way back to where she’d parked the Land Rover. She went into ‘recent calls’ on her mobile, clicked on ‘Ceri’, and waited for him to answer. Ceri’s message kicked in.
‘Hi, it’s Ceri, leave a short one and I’ll get back to you.’
‘Hi, sweetheart, sorry, me again, running a bit late. I should be there before the train gets in but, if not, I won’t be long. Love you both, gorgeous ones.’ She mouthed two kisses.
She couldn’t wait to see her two boys. She’d had the best of days and couldn’t wait to tell them her news. Her meeting with an art dealer , Jon Trench , had been fantastic. He had loved her paintings and not only bought all five of them without haggling over prices, but had also commissioned eight more large works , for delivery over the next two years, for his corporate clients. It was a fantastic bit of good luck but after all the struggling to keep their heads above water, they deserved it. The money would take away the pressure and they could finally finish the last of the work on the converted barn they lived in. The boost to her depleted confidence as an artist was great too, and it made up for missing the family trip to London. Anyway, they could afford to go again now, and stay over for a couple of nights in a posh hotel. It would be a surprise treat for Ceri and Ben.
The money was already in their bank, so on her way to meet the train, Sara had rushed to the shops. She hadn’t kept an eye on the time and was probably going to be late getting to the station. They wouldn’t mind though. She had bought a Harry Potter dressing gown and pyjamas for Ben, blue suede pointy brogues that she knew Ceri would love, and a ridiculously expensive dark green duffel coat that she would try and get him to wear instead of his old worn leather one. She had a warm feeling as she imagined their faces, so alike, soft grey eyes shining with excitement: Ben giggling, and bubbling with words, trying to tell her about his day and get into the dressing-gown at the same time, and then Ceri kissing her gently, his financial worries eased, for now, by her success. That night, after Ben was in bed, they would talk over a bottle of red wine and then make love in front of the open fire. It would be the perfect end to a perfect day. Excitement and anticipation fluttered inside her stomach.
She ran the last bit to the ticket machine in the car park and got there just before another two hours kicked in. As she came out onto the road she felt a wave of tiredness. It had been a hectic couple of days.
At the station, Sara could see that the train hadn’t arrived. It had been due in at five forty. Great they’d never know she was late. Pips for the six o’clock news on the radio broke into her thoughts. Reports were coming in of a fatal shooting at Paddington Station in London, earlier that afternoon. It was possible, although unconfirmed, that there had been three fatalities and that one was a child. It was too early to say if it was a terrorist attack. The warm, safe, familiar voice then said that train services to and from Paddington were likely to be disrupted for at least four hours. There was a number to ring if anyone was concerned about relatives or friends.
Fear hit Sara. A violent, thumping terror that made her breathless and dizzy. Her mind spun.
No, this was crazy. It couldn’t have anything to do with Ceri or Ben. They would have been on the way home. But their train was at three fifteen. What time did it happen? Perhaps Ben had been worn out and they’d got the quarter to three instead and had gone for an ice cream in the little coffee place around the corner from the station. She tried to call Ceri but the phone went into answer mode again. As she thought about turning and going to find them, she stopped, knowing they wouldn’t have got the train before the one they booked. Their tickets were reserved and he wouldn’t want to buy another two, and anyway they’d had a tight schedule with Buckingham Palace and the Natural History Museum. But she was certain that if Ceri said they were getting a particular train then they would. He was always exact, sticking to timetables and promises as though his life depended on it. She thought he might have OCD but he’d refused to take that seriously.
Her head was spinning and she had to force breath into her lungs and sense into her thoughts. She stopped the car across two spaces and tried to still the panic. It would be all right. They would just have to get a later train. Ceri would apologise for not answering his phone. He had probably not charged the battery before leaving home and it would have run out. Ben would hug her as tight as he could, butterfly-kissing her cheek with his eyelashes and giggling uncontrollably. It would all be an adventure for him and that would help take the pressure off Ceri. It would be all right. They would be all right.
Then she was pierced by an ice-cold reality and, deep in the pit of her stomach, she knew.
Sara threw herself out of the car and , fighting the weakness in her legs and the fear pounding in her chest, ran towards the station. As she went in through the entrance a police car, lights flashing, pulled up outside and two female officers got out and hurried onto the station concourse.
Sara was trying to control herself and not grab hold of the man at the gate and

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