The Principle of Evil: A Fast-Paced Serial Killer Thriller

‘Ensuring most of the evidence is washed away.’ Claire’s voice was stern. Danika nodded in agreement.

‘That’s why there isn’t as much blood here as there should be.’ She pulled herself up and snapped a glove off over her hand. ‘Wherever your crime scene is, it would’ve been a bloodbath.’

‘The blood would’ve been cleared up.’

‘Yes, but with the best will in the world it would be practically impossible to clear every last drop of it. There’ll be a scrap or fine trace of it left somewhere. It’s your job to find it.’

CHAPTER 5 (#ulink_40c09b3b-8e61-5c80-b367-a2a44bdf6b78)

Detective Sergeant Elias Crest rolled the biro he’d been chewing over his teeth, staring blankly at the newspaper on the table in front of him.

He’d been in Haverbridge CID less than a week and still he felt on edge. Moving back down south after living in Liverpool for the best part of eight years – five spent in CID – it was taking him time to adjust to his new surroundings.

It would take him even longer to adjust to working under yet another female DCI. His old Guv, DCI Meredith Glass, had been tough but she at least gave him the benefit of the doubt.

DCI Winters however… He chewed his bottom lip as he cast his mind back to his first morning. She’d shaken his hand, but gripped it tight. He’d wondered if that had been her way of asserting her authority without the need for words to be spoken.

He knew she would have seen his file. Seen the reason he was transferring. Not that he gave a shit about what she thought in that respect but still, it bothered him. He didn’t want her to have something she could hold over him, something she could use as leverage if she wanted.

Meredith Glass had tried that once.

He had smiled at Claire, in a vain attempt to hide his reservations. He’d asked her to call him by his first name, when she’d addressed him merely as ‘Crest’, but it had the opposite of the desired effect.

Her grip had tightened around his hand further, her face dropping any hint of a smile she may have expressed.

‘I try to make it a habit never to go by first names, Crest,’ she had said. He remembered how she’d given him the once over, head to toe, without any subtlety.

‘To you, I’m “Ma’am”, “Guv”, “Boss”… Yes?’ she’d said.

Elias had remained silent. ‘And “Bitch”?’ he’d thought, suppressing a wry smile.

He remembered feeling a boiling heat rise up inside him as she had explained what was expected of him.

‘You’ll be mainly under the supervision of DI Fletcher, a very competent and respected member of my team,’ she had said, watching his face carefully.

Elias had kept his eyes focused ahead. He knew when to pick his fights and when to merely observe.

And what was that last part she’d said? Something that had made him question what he was doing here. He grimaced as he remembered, her words echoing inside his head.

‘I have no time for men who find it hard to work under the authority of a woman.’

She had deliberately let that sentence hang there in silence a moment longer than she’d needed to.

Elias figured he’d deserved that. Still, his eyes narrowed, the memory fresh in his mind, eating away at him.

I wish I knew exactly what was in my file.

Then there had been that parting shot – ‘I won’t tolerate mavericks.’

It was these words that jolted him out of his reverie, back to the lunch room.

He eyed the few people that were gathered around the vending machine, and plucked the biro from his mouth, flicking it across the table with irritation.

He’d decided to sit on his own. He wasn’t in the mood for making friends. He’d had friends before he transferred, or so he thought. Where had they been when he needed someone to cover his arse? Watching their own backs, that’s where. Doing everything by the book. Sometimes rules had to be broken for the greater good.

He tried to push the thought from his mind, staring down at his lunch, but although the hot meal smelled delicious, he didn’t feel very hungry. Instead he added five heaped teaspoons of sugar to his coffee cup and slowly began to stir. He barely noticed DI David Matthews as he sat in the chair opposite him.

‘You’ll come crashing down about five o’clock if you’re not careful,’ he said, as he poured milk into his own cup. Elias stopped stirring, raising his eyes wearily, face blank.

‘Sugar rush,’ Matthews said. ‘You’ll be crashing in so many hours, mate.’ He gestured to the coffee. When Elias failed to acknowledge him, Matthews pushed his own cup to one side and folded his arms on the table. ‘She really isn’t that bad.’

Elias scoffed and shook his head in disagreement. ‘Why do you assume I have a problem with Claire?’

Matthews cocked an eyebrow. ‘Written on your face.’

‘Don’t take the piss.’

Matthews held up his hands. ‘I’m serious, mate, she’s just testing you. She likes to see how tough you are, and no offence, but you’re kinda falling at the first hurdle.’

Elias was having none of it. ‘I grew up in Brixton, mate. I don’t have to prove I’m tough enough. I’ve nothing to prove to her and my credentials speak for themselves. I’m not an idiot.’

Matthews sat back in his chair. ‘Look, I know she’s hard to get along with at first, but everyone agrees once they get to know her… Claire wouldn’t be Claire if she was any different.’

‘I have no intentions of getting to know her on a personal level.’

Matthews chewed his bottom lip, taking in the new DS carefully.

Elias was in his mid-thirties, dressed smartly, with fashionably messy hair that was streaked with blonde highlights.

A pair of large hazel-coloured eyes looked back at Matthews, with a steely edge to them.

‘You got a problem or something, working under a woman?’

Elias practically scowled. ‘No.’

Matthews raised his eyebrows. ‘You sure about that, mate?’ Silence hung heavy in the air. ‘’Cos if it’s a gender thing–’

‘It’s not.’

‘It’s pretty old-school, thinking like that.’

‘I respect women officers… good ones.’

‘DCI Winters not good enough?’

Elias paused, being careful. ‘I never said that.’

‘But?’