Betrayal of Innocence (A New Adventure Begins - Star Elite 1)

“Henry Mooreland over in Derbyshire has had two young girls, and a young boy called Oscar. I have had two disappearances still, and of course Felicity, now deceased,” Weeks replied. A shiver of unease settled over him. It unnerved him so greatly he wandered over to his desk and slumped into the chair behind it. For a moment, he stared blankly at the highly polished surface of his desk but couldn’t get his mind to settle on anything. Not even the men before him.

“Give us some details of who has vanished first, then we can decide if we are looking for a kidnapper and a killer, or if we are looking for a kidnapper who likes to kill,” Justin ordered quietly.

For a moment, the men didn’t think Weeks was going to answer. Eventually, he looked up and appeared to be every day of his seven and fifty years.

“Could I just ask why it was you who sent for us and not Henry Moorel

and, the magistrate in Derbyshire?” Callum interrupted.

Weeks looked at him. “I know Sir Hugo,” he replied honestly. “When Oscar vanished without a trace and, yet again, we found no clues to help us, both Henry and I realised we needed assistance. There are no clues, you see? I have no witnesses, no dropped belongings, no signs of a struggle, not a damned thing. It is most odd, I don’t mind telling you, and I don’t like it at all. Mooreland feels the same. This is so unusual that we both agreed we need expert assistance. You dealt with Sayers, and there was nobody more cunning than he.”

The men nodded.

“So, Mooreland and I decided to send for you, and we need every second of your expertise if we are going to catch this fellow. Whoever he is, wherever he comes from, the damned menace is a shadow,” Weeks muttered, his voice laden with disgust.

Angus suddenly beamed at him. “Well, you called in the right men then. We are good at fighting shadows.”

CHAPTER THREE

“Who was the first person to go missing?” Justin asked. He watched Oliver remove a small notebook from his pocket and prepare to take notes.

Weeks sighed and ran a hand down his weathered face.

“The first to go missing is a young woman called Geraldine. She is the oldest of all of them.”

“How old is she?” Oliver asked, scribbling furiously.

“Four and twenty,” Weeks replied.

“She married a farmer, and lives – lived – on their farm with her husband, Curtis,” Weeks added.

“Hair colour?”

“Dark brown.”

“Eyes?”

“Green.”

“Height.”

“About up to your shoulder,” he sighed, with a nod to Justin.

“A farmer’s wife, you said?” Oliver murmured.

Weeks nodded.

“What happened?”

“She went out painting one day and didn’t come back. Her husband went out to look for her and found her painting things, but she was nowhere to be found. Nobody has seen her since,” Weeks replied

“From the village?” Angus asked.

Weeks nodded. “Her farm is just over the hill. You must have passed it on the way into the village. It sits about a quarter of a mile away from the road but is visible from there.”

Justin nodded even though he couldn’t remember it.

“Who next?”