Isle Of Salt

Chapter Four

Andrèas

The car came to a stop as his uncle Toby killed the engine. Glancing over at the older man, he saw fear in his eyes, his hands tighten on the steering wheel.

'Uncle, they're waiting for us.' he said, watching the deputies push the television crew away from the police tape.

'This has to be a coincidence, she's probably returned home and hasn't called me.' The man's words were hopeful, yet Andrèas dare not agree, he had seen the worst the world had to offer. Stepping out of the vehicle, he does not wait for the other man before proceeding to the crime scene. Lifting the tape to duck under, an officer stopped him,

'No media allowed.'

'I'm the sheriff's nephew.' He went to move again, yet the man stood in his way.

'Nephew or not, unauthorised personnel are not allowed.' Frowning, Andrèas had had enough.

'I'm from the homicide and serious crime command in London, I suggest you let me through.' It wasn't a complete lie.

'As in London, England?' The man questioned, not having any more patience to spare, Andrèas pushed passed before they had a chance to ask for his badge.

The dock was sturdy as he strode towards the largest trawler at the end. It's net lay limply on the deck. He'd received the news that a body had been caught in a fishing net in the early hours of the morning, the same time he was out with his uncle combing the streets for his cousin. When they'd arrived home from the airport just past midnight, there had been no sign of the young girl. It certainly wasn't the homecoming he had anticipated.

'Andrèas!'Turning, he watched as his uncle run to catch up.

'Homicide command? Y'all know you can't use that anymore.' Toby's voice shook with dread as he spoke. Turning their attention to the boat, they made their way up the ramp and climbed aboard.

'Sheriff,' one of the deputies came to a stop in front of the men. He was a slim young faced boy whose uniform looked too big for him.

'The body was caught in the net-'

'Yes, we all know that boy, tell us somethin' we don't.' The older man grunted, not wanting to delay any longer.

'Well, the boat belongs to a Lewin Seymour, he was fishing just outside the reef when he brought the net up and discovered the girl.' The young man said fiddling with the notepad in his hands.

'That's a shark breeding ground out there, why was he dragging his nets so close to the reef?' Andrèas asked turning to his uncle whose eyes were now focused on the net at the back of the boat. There was machinery obstructing their view, so the older man made to move around it.

'Uncle, wait!' But Toby did not stop so he had no choice but to follow. Coming around the side, he saw a woman, of about thirty, circling a half-consumed body, snapping photographs on a forensic camera. His uncle stopped a few paces from the body and dropped to his knees. The young girl's arms and a leg were mauled, leaving scrappy fleshy wounds. Something, probably a shark, had taken a large bite from the side of her face and neck. Andrèas stared at the remains of his cousin, a once highly intelligent girl now reduced to shark bait, her face puffy and inflated from the water.