RECKONING POINT J.M Hewitt © J.M. Hewitt 2019 J.M. Hewitt has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work. First published in 2019 by Endeavour Media Ltd. Table of Contents Prologue First Murder 1 ALEX 2 THE DOCTOR 3 ELIAN 4 LEV 5 ROLAND 6 ALEX 7 THE DOCTOR 8 ELIAN 9 LEV 10 ROLAND 11 ERIK FONS 12 ALEX 13 THE DOCTOR 14 ELIAN 15 LEV 16 ROLAND 17 ERIK FONS 18 ALEX 19 THE DOCTOR 20 ELIAN 21 SECOND MURDER 22 LEV 23 ROLAND 24 ALEX 25 THE DOCTOR 26 ERIK FONS 27 ELIAN 28 LEV 29 ROLAND 30 ALEX 31 NAOMI WILSON 32 THIRD MURDER 33 ERIK FONS & ALEX HARVEY 34 ELIAN 35 LEV 36 ROLAND 37 NAOMI WILSON and THE DOCTOR 38 ERIK FONS & ALEX HARVEY 39 ELIAN & LEV 40 NAOMI 41 ERIK FONS & ALEX HARVEY 42 ROLAND 43 ELIAN & THE DOCTOR 44 ERIK FONS & ALEX HARVEY 45 ELIAN & THE DOCTOR 46 ERIK FONS & ALEX HARVEY 47 LEV and ROLAND 48 ROLAND 49 ELIAN 50 ERIK FONS & ALEX HARVEY 51 FORTH MURDER 52 ELIAN 53 ERIK FONS & ALEX HARVEY 55 ELIAN AND THE DOCTOR 56 ROLAND 57 ERIK FONS AND ALEX HARVEY 58 ELIAN AND LEV 59 ROLAND 60 THE COLONEL 61 THE DOCTOR & LEV 62 ERIK FONS AND ALEX HARVEY 63 ROLAND 64 ELIAN, ALEX, LEV, THE DOCTOR and ERIK 65 THE COLONEL 66 ELIAN, LEV, BRAM, ALEX AND ERIK. 67 ELIAN, ALEX AND ERIK. Prologue First Murder Near Doublestraat 3.7.15 Late at night Four windows, four girls all in varying states of undress. He stands tall, arching back ever so slightly to get the best view. Rita is in the first window and he knows that she can see him down here in the street. She smiles coyly, hooks a thumb in the ‘v’ of her underwear but he doesn’t see what her next trick is, his gaze has already moved on. It’s not that he doesn’t like Rita, rather the fact that he has been with her several times recently and a lot of people have seen him. If Rita should suddenly become missing in action fingers might be pointed. No, for what he needs to do tonight, it must be someone who is not known to him. There can be nothing to bring it back to his door. Gabi Rossi hurries down the street, taking care that her spiked heels don’t get stuck in between the cobblestones. There’s a chill in the air, a cold front coming off the North Sea and she pulls her thin coat tighter around her and turns up the collar, thinking wistfully and not for the first time about Brazil, her home country. The weather is the only thing that she misses about Bangu Rio. Here in Scheveningen, her home may be small and one that she shares with four other girls, but it is a palace compared to the favela where she was raised in a steel shanty shack. And it’s safe here in Holland. And just as she is musing on the fact that she’s not known even a hint of trouble in the three months she has been here, she hears a rough footstep on the road behind her and what sounds like the chink of a chain. She stops walking and looks behind her down the deserted alleyway. A damp mist has rolled in from the coast and she squints into the gloom. There, a hundred yards away, there’s definitely someone standing next to a dumpster. He is unmoving and seemingly looking towards her, silent and still. And the whole scene seems strange, because this is a happy place. Even in her job when some of the punters want something unusual or bordering on the perverted, it’s never sinister. On the other hand, some of her punters might be timid, unable or unwilling to voice their desires. But this guy, he’s neither exuberant nor shy. He’s just standing, staring her down, observing. Carefully, not making any sudden movements, she slips her feet out of her shoes. The cold cobbles draw a gasp from her and she backs up a couple of steps. He still hasn’t moved, but now he takes his hand out of his pocket, drawing out a length of chain, presenting it to her, holding it as though it is a fine wine. “Filho da puta,” Gabi swears in a whisper and after a beat, she turns and runs, leaving her shoes right where she slipped them off. Lev leaves the slightly more upper class area of Geleenstraat and heads over towards Doublestraat. He stops under a bridge, pausing to light a cigarette when he hears the slap of bare soles on the street behind him. The girl runs into him and when he reaches out a hand to steady her she smacks it away with a scream. “Hey, lady–” he begins and is taken aback when she does an about-turn, leaps towards him, almost into his arms. She clings to him, sobbing into his coat. “There was a man. I left my shoes …” is all she can manage to say. Lev glances back the way she came and can see nobody in sight. “You really shouldn’t be walking out here on your own,” he says. She seems to make a quick recovery, pushing him away from her and looking up at him with a sneer. “You think I can’t take care of myself?” Well, no, he thinks. Or you wouldn’t be crying into my coat. But he doesn’t say it. “As you were then,” he says, holding out his hand in a gesture that says ‘after you’. With a final glare at him she walks away, treading gingerly over the cobbles. He looks around once more, noting that this area between the
