Forgotten Souls by David T. Procter.
Category: Crime Fiction
Paperback: 512 pages
Language: English
ISBN: 1434344908

"Jim Carter tossed the paper onto his desk; he’d seen the headline screaming at him from every news stand between the station, and his office. This though would be the first time that he’d had the opportunity to properly read the story. Collapsing into his chair he called out to the office clerk.

"Amanda any chance of a coffee?"

He knew what to expect and wasn’t disappointed.

"I’ve told you before, Jim, I’m not your personal coffee machine. You should learn how to do it yourself."

"Yeah, I know, but you make a much better one than I do. Go on be a sport."

"This once and this once only, after this you get it yourself."

"She’s so gullible says the same thing every time, but she still does it"

He thought smugly, as she disappeared. He needed the caffeine; the previous evening was still affecting him. Grinning secretly to himself, he remembered the girl he had picked up in the club. Five double brandies it had cost him before he had finally got her to agree. His headache this morning told him he must have had a good night, not that he could remember much about it. Still, a bloke had to get his enjoyment where he could. Fiona seemed too pre-occupied lately, barely able to speak to him, let alone anything else a husband may require.

Jim was almost certain she was seeing someone behind his back. When pressed, she was unable or unwilling to discuss the matter. Numerous arguments had ensued, never becoming violent, that wasn’t Jim’s style. But the crockery had suffered. To avoid any more conflict Jim had taken to staying out all night either working or, like last night, spending it in some sleazy one-star hotel. Settling himself more comfortably into his chair, he pulled out the lower drawer of his desk and rested his feet on its edge. Then once comfortable he began to read.

"Montague Smallhythe, the eminent surgeon, died in a bizarre accident at the weekend. While attending a re-enactment battle of Marston Moor, Mr Smallhythe was shot and killed. Police believe accidentally by a musket fired by one of his fellow re-enactors. He was a member of a Civil War society and spent many weekends at such events. Witnesses described how his death went unnoticed for some time. Due to the confused nature of the battle scene Mr Smallhythe lay bleeding for some time before medical assistance was called for. By the time help arrived he had died of his wounds, and was pronounced dead at the scene. Mr Smallhythe was considered by some to be one of the leading transplant surgeons in Europe. His experience and knowledge had helped a great many patients over the years. Friends were said to be distraught at his untimely death. The police have as yet been unable to find the weapon that fired the fatal shot"

Jim scanned the rest of the front page; skim-reading the story for any salient points. His search wasn’t in vain; finally he found what he was looking for; hidden in column three on page two.

"Police Sources close to the investigation…"

Jim chuckled, knowing that meant that a senior officer had allowed the information out.

"Confirmed earlier that they needed to find the person who had fired the shot, but due to the enormity of the task they were having difficulty in tracing which weapon had fired the fatal shot. It appears that while the muskets are technically able to fire live ammunition, all weapons should only have been loaded with gunpowder during the battle scenes."

Jim settled further back into his chair, almost unable to contain his amazement that he felt as he read the story.

"Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. What better way to kill someone, than in the middle of a battle in front of thousands of witnesses. By the time they realised he was dead the killer had most likely already gone, lost in the crowd" He said in admiration, just a little too loudly as Amanda re-entered the room."