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1、 THE DEAD AND THE MISSING An Adam Park Thriller A. D. DAVIES Copyright 2015 A. D. Davies All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without

2、the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. ASIN: B00XNZ0IZQ CONTENTS Novels by A. D. Davies Prologue I. UNITED KINGDOM Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chap

3、ter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 II. Europe Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 III. ASIA Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Ch

4、apter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 IV. UNITED KINGDOM Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter

5、56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Epilogue A Desperate Paradise Novels by A. D. Davies Three Years Dead Note from the Author His First His Second NOVELS BY A. D. DAVIES Adam Park Thrillers: The Dead and the Missing A Desperate Paradise The Shadows of Empty men Night at the George Washington Diner Master the

6、Flame Under the Long White Cloud Alicia Friend Investigations: His First His Second In Black In White With Courage With Fear A Friend in Spirit Standalone: Three Years Dead Rite to Justice The Sublime Freedom Co-Authored: Project Return Fire with Joe Dinicola For everyone out there fighting the good

7、 fight PROLOGUE I live my life with a gun behind the fridge. Thatd snag me a five-year prison sentence, just for owning it. Even though Im sure the danger has passed, and the decisions I made can no longer bite me, I cant seem to let it go. Tucked away as it is, I cant even make an argument for self

8、-defence; its there in case I feel the need to break it out, and go where the law cannot. That isnt a thought I would have considered a couple of months ago. A couple of months ago, I was afraid of a fight, even one I knew I could win. A couple of months ago, I had never killed a man. But ask if I r

9、egret taking the case, and the honest answer is no. Because I dont care about the part of me that died this summer. All I care about is the outcome, and the good things I achieved. The bad things do not haunt me. The mistakes I made do not weigh upon me. I wish they did, because that would prove I w

10、as normal. So maybe Im not normal. Maybe thats why I survived. And why I will survive in the future. UNITED KINGDOM CHAPTER ONE As the ocean swelled under a grey sky, my board rose higher than it had all day, and I started to question if I should really be out here at all. The five-foot wave rolled

11、away, curling as it prepared to break, and half a dozen younger surfers scrambled to catch it, surging towards the beach in a line, to be greeted by the whoops and cheers of their friends waiting in the shallows. Like the other regulars, Id been unable to resist the strengthening troughs and peaks t

12、hat heralded a twelve-to-fourteen-hour storm, a “weather-bomb” the tabloids predicted would destroy every town and village in its path, flooding the southwest back to Biblical times. I might be exaggerating that last bit. But only a little. It was a grey day, though, the wind picking up steadily, an

13、d it started spitting about ten minutes ago. In Britain? Yeah, in Britain. At the seaside. My fellow hardy souls were all younger than me by a good decade and a half, and I shivered in my thermal wetsuit. I was pretty sure the next decent wave would be my final run of the day, so I had to make it co

14、unt. On the beach, a woman studied the horizon, stock-still amid the small audience. Strands of hair fluttered in the wind as if it escaped from a ponytail and, even from here, I could see she was dressed in sensible trousers and a padded jacket. My curiosity ended, however, when an incoming roller

15、challenged me as only the ocean can. I lay on my front and paddled. This was the wave. My wave. I found my focus point and scooped faster and faster, shoulders heaving against the water. My speed and the seas roll fell into sync. I popped up on my board and carved through the wall of water, natures

16、hand embracing and guiding me toward the sand. Im a shade under six foot, but this wave curled over me by another head. It should have been terrifying, but I allowed the ocean to propel me forward while all I had to do was not fall off; this illusion of control, this delusion that nature could not s

17、imply swat me from existence it was enough to bring me home. As I hopped off my board in the foaming shallows, a smattering of applause sounded and a couple of the youthfully smooth girls trotted over. Late teens, early twenties. Bikinis under hoodies. I picked up my board and returned their smiles.

18、 They ran straight past to a kid peeling off a wetsuit with purple swooshes, his sculpted hairless torso drawing even my eye. Sure, I was in as good shape as any of the younger guys, but at thirty-six I needed to remember I wasnt some “Bodhi”-type figure from the original version of Point Break; I w

19、as the old dude who turned up on their beach one day, and just about earned his place. The only person who noticed me was the mommy type blonde in the padded jacket. Hands in her pockets, shoulders hunched. About my age, perhaps a tad older, but if she said she was thirty I wouldnt argue. She said,

20、“Adam Park?” Plummy, upper-middle-class. Not quite aristocracy. Poking out of her coat was the corner of a brown envelope about an inch thick. I stripped off my hood and upper part of my wetsuit, perhaps hoping to compete with the young stud-muffin and his admirers. They all jogged by without as muc

21、h as a glance. Philistines. “No,” I said to the woman. “Im not who youre looking for.” “Well thats odd.” She fussed with her zip and slipped a portrait photo from the envelope. “You look an awful lot like him.” Even though it flapped about in the wind, I could see it featured a nasty bastard in a th

22、ousand-quid suit. The picture used to adorn the lobby to an office, beneath which was printed my name and position within the companydirector. I was clean-shaven in the photo and my hair was a sensible length. “Thats not me.” I snatched up my kit-bag and headed for the showers at the top end of the

23、beach. She scrambled in front and shoved the envelope into my bare chest. Which did surprise me. You see, I didnt really look like the sort of guy who people can push about. As well as my physique, my facial hair grows thicker and more quickly than the average person, so after five days without shav

24、ing, I sported a near-full scraggly beard. Still, it matched my hair that hadnt seen a barber in two months, yet this prim-and-proper lady wouldnt let me leave. She said, “Can I at least buy you a drink? If youre still not interested, then fine. Ill go.” I carried on up the sand, the woman striding

25、to keep up. “Howd you find me?” “Harry.” “Of course Harry.” “He said you were hiding down here but I should try anyway.” More of the surfers were coming in now, my wave being the first in a succession of six-plus footers, a rarity in this part of the world. The horizon had darkened as black as night

26、, although it was only four oclock in July. “Im not hiding,” I said. “Ive been on holiday.” “For two years?” It took a moment to calculate but yes, she was correct. Id now seen two Christmases with only myself for company. “I needed a break,” I said. We paused by a row of showers at the foot of the

27、access road. I said, “Daughter?” “Im sorry?” I flicked on a shower and stood beneath it, one eye on the blue-grey clouds. “Someones missing and Harrys obviously out of ideas. Your daughter? Son?” “My sister,” she said. “She just turned eighteen.” I glanced at the envelope through the stream of fresh

28、 water. “Why are you talking to Harry and me instead of the police?” “Because the police say she stole a bag of cash and went on the run. And we dont think she is still in the country.” “How much did she steal?” “Nothing. She wouldnt do that. Shes either been kidnapped or hurt or shes I need to know

29、.” No ones loved one is ever to blame for criminal acts. Theyve always been coerced or kidnapped or threatened. “Fine,” I said. “So who did she allegedly steal from?” “Her boss. She was working in a strip club, of all places. Harry thinks hes the one obstructing the investigation.” “Got a name?” “He

30、s called Curtis Benson.” Curtis Benson. Id never met the man, but Id heard of him. Investigators at my company had encountered his businesses in the past, but it was difficult to get a firm read on him. The grapevine gossips whispered that hed risen too quickly to be an honest man, and opinion was d

31、ivided as to whether he was just a dodgy entrepreneur who from time to time indulged in a spot of brown envelope action with the powers that be, or a serious player in the crime community. “Bloody Harry,” I said. “Hes supposed to be retired. Jaynell be doing her nut.” “Hes my uncle.” I almost laughe

32、d. “Came out of retirement to help a niece Ive never heard of?” “My father was Harrys brother. When my mother remarried we didnt really stay in touch, except for Christmas cards and birthdays, that sort of thing.” Harry had a brother who died back in the eightiesthe Falklands Warso there was no reas

33、on to think this woman was lying. It happened before I started working with him, meaning I had no definite frame of reference. Except “But if your sister is only eighteen” “My half-sister, then. But still my sister. Please. My mother isnt with us anymore and Sarahs dad left a long time ago. Harry wa

34、s willing to look into it if I paid his expenses, but now were seriously short. He thought you would help.” I switched off the shower and toweled down as best I could. “Why would he think that?” “He said you have more money than God, and you are soft as shit, and youd probably take pity on me if I c

35、ried.” “Youre not crying.” As I rubbed the towel over my scruffy hair, she fixed her eyes on mine and, through what looked like sheer willpower alone, a solitary tear rolled down her cheek. She said, “Do you have a hankie?” Okay, I thought. That was impressive. I said, “One drink.” I recommended San

36、jays Bar, a fifteen-minute stroll to a perch far enough back from the cliffs to be safe but sufficiently exposed to observe the approaching storm. I threw on a Fat Willie fleece and, with practiced ease, dressed my nether- regions under my towel. When suitably decent, I gathered my things and set of

37、f up the steep, narrow road, trying not to show how difficult it was to walk in a straight line with the wind buffeting my surfboard like a sail. I think I did okay. “Right,” I said. “Lets hear it.” “The last I heard from Sarah was an email.” She slipped a sheet of A4 from the envelope wedged in her

38、 coat. I had no free hands, so she gripped it in both hers, flapping it close to my face. “She said she went on holiday. Didnt say where but promised to be home soon. Then she stopped communicating altogether.” The name of the sender was Sarah Stiles. The recipient Caroline Stiles. I assumed the wom

39、an before me was Caroline. Sarah wrote that she was sorry for causing any worry over the past week and that, yes, as Caroline said, shed be home soon. Actually “It says we will be home soon,” I said. “Whos we?” “I dont know. Harry doesnt either.” “Boyfriend, then?” Caroline folded the email and slip

40、ped it back in the envelope. “She never mentioned one, but Harry said we should work to that assumption.” “She sent it 22nd of June. Thats nearly a month ago. The police still werent interested?” “I explained that already. They dont believe shes a victim. They think shes a thief, on the run with her

41、 accomplice.” “Right,” I said. “The we.” She adopted a “duh” voice. “Miss Stiles, youngsters do this when theyre in trouble. Shell come home when the money runs out.” Back to normal. “All theyve done is put her photo on their missing-persons website and told me to start a Facebook campaign.” “Nonsen

42、se,” I said. “Not even the prime minister can phone up a police station and say, Hey, stop investigating this, wont you, hmm? At least not without a compelling national security issue. Presumably Harry doesnt think the boyfriend is a terrorist?” “Do you believe Harry would let it lie at that? Do you

43、 think I would? We went to our MP and she parroted the same nonsense. I tried the press, and they ran a story about how Sarahs lovely boss was now struggling to pay his staff because the money was gone. So I did the Facebook thing, and some other sites. But all the horrible people who post comments

44、and false leads, its its horrible, theres no other word for it.” “Trolls,” I said. “Theyre called trolls.” We reached the car park of what looked like an Edwardian London abode, all grey brick and tall white-framed windows. Sanjays Bar. The smokers enclosure was empty, and the only remaining outdoor

45、 furniture was the bolted-down tables. We carried on around the side where Sanjay kept a space for my VW Camper, a burgundy 1974 beauty with a white roof and chrome wheels. I said, “So no leads at all from social media?” “Maybe one. A woman who thinks she met Sarah in Paris shortly before she sent t

46、hat email. But she didnt leave a contact number or anything, so” I opened the VWs back door. “If shes with a boyfriend, shes probably fine.” “No.” Caroline set her mouth and eyes firmly. “If someone else is involved, some guy, it was he who put her up to it. Forced her to take part.” I maneuvered my

47、 board through the gap between the fold-out bed and kitchenette. I guessed Harry told her to emphasize what a turd the boyfriend must be. “Im sorry to be such a pest,” Caroline said, “but Ive virtually run out of money. Harry looked as deep as he could and found enough evidence leading out of the co

48、untry, but” I wedged the board in place. “She definitely left the UK?” “She definitely obtained a fake passport.” “Phone?” “Turned off. No records in the digital cloud, no photos, nothing.” I shut the door. “Look. Caroline. They say its a small world, but really it isnt. Its huge. I mean ridiculously big. Even if shes still in Paris, that is one colossal city.” “Are you willing to help us?” “Let me get this straight. Your sister goes missing a month ago. Possibly with a boyfriend. But no one else, I assume, is reported missing?” She nodded reluc