Deadlight
Authors: Graham Hurley
| Deadlight |
| Faraday & Winter [4] |
| Graham Hurley |
| Hachette UK (2010) |
Freshly promoted to the elite Major Crimes Unit Faraday is thrown into
the deep end with the investigation into the murder of prison officer
Paul Coughlin. Was the violent Coughlin killed by a recently released
con he brutalised in prison? Or is his death a legacy of a wider, more
savage violence from twenty years before? Coughlin was an ex petty
officer in the Royal Navy. He served on HMS Accolade, a Type 21 frigate
sunk during the Falklands war with the loss of 19 men. Could it be that
that tragedy has hidden the evidence of a crime that has waited 20 years
to be avenged? Portsmouth, the Royal Navy's major south coast base, has
thrived on the riches that war brings but it has also suffered; a city
and its people living with the long shadows of the terrible emotional
and physical price of conflict. In this novel Graham has focused on
Portsmouth's ambiguious relationship with the Royal Navy and, as Faraday
attempts to penetrate the wall of silence thrown up by the Navy,
presents a further rivetting chapter in the life of his uniquely
appealing hero. Graham Hurley has recreated Portsmouth as the obvious
locale for a series of gritty and impassioned crime novels
Graham Hurley
Graham Hurley is an award-winning TV documentary maker who now writes full time. He lived in Portsmouth for 20 years. He is married and has grown up children. He now lives in Exmouth, Devon.www.grahamhurley.co.uk
Praise for Graham Hurley
Blood and Honey
‘Hurley’s decent, persistent cop is cementing his reputation as one of Britain’s most credible official sleuths, crisscrossing the mean streets of a city that is a brilliantly depicted microcosm of contemporary Britain … The unfolding panorama of Blair’s England is both edifying and shameful, and a sterling demonstration of the way crime writing can target society’s woes’
‘There is no doubt that his series of police-procedural novels is one of the best since the genre was invented more than half a century ago’
Cut to Black
‘The book has everything required of a first-rate police procedural and Hurley is now firmly at the top, with few rivals in this genre’
‘Hurley is one of my favourite Brit crime writers of the last few years, and long may he continue to chronicle Portsmouth’s seedier side’
‘This series gets stronger and stronger, and there is obviously space for more’
Deadlight
‘I officially declare myself a fan of Graham Hurley. His attention to detail (without slowing the pace of the novel) and realistic display of police work mark him as a most accomplished purveyor of the British police procedural’
‘Graham Hurley’s
Deadlight
is excellent modern British crime writing. Hurley demonstrates great attention to detail in regard to police procedure, as well as highlighting the conflicts of ideology that exist within the police force’
By Graham Hurley
FEATURING DI JOE FARADAY
Turnstone
The Take
Angels Passing
Deadlight
Cut to Black
Blood and Honey
One Under
The Price of Darkness
No Lovelier Death
Beyond Reach
OTHER NOVELS
Rules of Engagement
Reaper
The Devil’s Breath
Thunder in the Blood
Sabbathman
The Perfect Soldier
Heaven’s Light
Nocturne
Permissible Limits
AN ORION EBOOK
First published in Great Britain in 2003 by Orion
This ebook first published in 2010 by Orion Books
Copyright © Graham Hurley 2003
The moral right of Graham Hurley to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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 to be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN: 978 1 4091 3350 6
This ebook produced by Jouve, France
The Orion Publishing Group Ltd
Orion House
5 Upper Saint Martin’s Lane
London WC2H 9EA
An Hachette UK Company
www.orionbooks.co.uk
Deadlight
– Hinged metal flap which can be lowered and clamped over a scuttle in order to darken a ship.
Jackspeak – a Guide to British Naval Slang and Usage
To
Jean and Charles Wylie
with love
Contents
Acknowledgements
My thanks to the following for their time and patience:
Jim Allaway, John Ashworth, Ralph Barber, Mark Davenport, Lee Dinnell, Roly Dumont, Alan Estcourt, Diana and Bob Franklin, Alastair Gregory, Barry Hornby, Bob Lamburne, Pete Langdown, Howard Lazenby, Steve McLinn, Clive Morgan, Mary and John Mortimer, Joe Morton, Laurie Mullen, John Roberts, Alfie Saye, Colin Smith, Ray Taylor, Mark Tinker, David Watts, Steve Watts, Tony West, Dave Wilson, Dave Wright and Charles Wylie.
Mark Higgitt’s fine book,
Through Fire and Water
, was an indispensable source of reference, and should be compulsory reading for anyone interested in naval aspects of the Falklands War. As ever, I owe an enormous debt to my editor, Simon Spanton, while Lin, my wife, was an unflagging source of comfort and inspiration throughout a long campaign.
SAN CARLOS WATER, 21 MAY
, 1982
All the training, all the waiting, all the unvoiced speculation: what it might feel like, how you might cope. And now, all too suddenly, this.
The first bomb fell aft. His face an inch from the mess deckplates, he could feel the ship lift, shudder, and then settle again. Helo deck, he thought. He’d been out there only hours ago, marshalling Lynx ops in the bright, cold winter sunshine. Now, in the neon-lit harshness of the Delta Two mess he raised his head a little, adjusting his anti-flash, trying to picture the scene above.
‘
Second aircraft. Red two zero
.’ The PWO’s voice on the main broadcast Tannoy.
The Argie Skyhawks normally came in pairs. Concentrating on a single ship was favourite because it narrowed the odds on a sinking. Nice one.
‘
Brace! Brace! Brace!
’
The ship heeled savagely as the Captain tried to throw the Argie pilot’s aim. Then came the fairground boom-boom-boom of the 20mm Oerliken and a sudden whoosh as a Seacat engaged. Even with target lock at three miles, Seacats were famously crap. Loosing one at six hundred metres, you’d give its little electronic brain a seizure. Even the PWO admitted it.
The sudden roar of the Skyhawk overhead ground his face into the deck. He shut his eyes and began to count, but he hadn’t got past one before the mess erupted around him. Thrown upwards by the blast, he had a moment of absolute clarity before the world closed in around him. Small things. The long-overdue bluey he’d
started this morning, finished except for a couple of lines at the end. The bet he’d taken a couple of days back with the XO, the date they’d all be home again. And the boy Warren, adrift in the South Atlantic, so much gash.
Smoke, everywhere. And the roar of water blasting out of a ruptured main. Voices yelling, and the clang of metal on metal as men took a Samson bar to the heavy secured doors. All that, plus a licking flame from the yawning gap below.
For a second or two, pure instinct, he checked himself over. His ears were still ringing from the explosion and when his hand came down from his face it was sticky with blood, but he could get up, no problem, and his mind was clear enough to latch itself on to the emergency drills.
According to the book, he was to return to the flight deck to assess the situation. His instincts, though, told him that the ship was finished. Already she’d taken a heavy list. Port? Starboard? He couldn’t work it out but the smoke was getting thicker by the second, and judging by the thunder below the fire was spreading towards the Seacat magazine. Situation like this, any sailor with half a brain would be binning the Damage Control Manual and thinking about an orderly evacuation.
On his hands and knees, hunting for clean air, he began to move. Already the deckplates were uncomfortably hot and the upward blast of the fire below drove him to the edges of what remained of the Two Delta mess. Seconds earlier, he dimly remembered three other guys with him in this cramped little space. Where were they now?
He found one of them sprawled beside a yawning locker. Surrounded by packets of crisps, bits and pieces of civvy kit, plus assorted copies of
Mayfair
, the man was rigid with shock but still alive. He slapped his face hard, hauled him into a half crouch, and pushed him towards
the jagged hole where the door had once been. A final shove took the man through.
‘Out!’ he shouted. ‘Get out!’
Back inside the mess, the smoke coiled into his lungs. It had a foul, greasy, chemical taste. He could feel his throat burning, his airways beginning to tighten. This is how you die, he thought. This is what the Fire School instructors at Matapan Road meant by suffocation.
He found the next body beside the fridge. Jones. Definitely. He tried for a pulse, spared a breath or two for mouth-to-mouth, all he could muster, then gave up. Taff was very dead.
Two down. One to go.
‘Anyone there?’ he yelled.
There was a movement in the half-darkness. Someone staggering uncertainly to his feet, shocked but still mobile. He moved towards the man, meaning to help him out, then stopped. Away to his left, beyond a gaping hole in the forward bulkhead, he could just make out the shape of another body.
He ducked low again, sucking in the last of the good air, picking his way through the debris. The casualty was face up. His anti-flash gloves were charred where he’d tried to protect himself, and one of his legs was bent out at a strange angle, but his eyes were open and he blinked in response to the upraised thumb. Yes, I’m still alive. And yes, for Christ’s sake get me out of here.
The body weighed a ton. Every time he tried to heave the deadweight towards the mess, towards the passageway and the ladder beyond, the man screamed in agony. Getting him through the tangle of debris would be a joke unless he could find another pair of hands.
