Death on the Lake A DCI Satterthwaite mystery Jo Allen Also by Jo Allen Death by Dark Waters Death Eden’s End Death on Coffin Lane Death at Rainbow Cottage Author Copyright: Jo Allen 2021 Cover Art: Mary Jayne Baker This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment and may not be resold or given away. This story is a work of fiction. The characters are figments of my imagination and any resemblance to anyone living or dead is entirely coincidental. Some of the locations used are real. Some are invented. To Terry Lynn Thomas, as wonderfully supportive a writing friend as I could hope for. Thank you xx Author’s Note ll of the characters in this book are figments of my imagination and bear no resemblance to anyone alive or dead. The same can’t be said for the locations. Many are real but others are not. I’ve taken several liberties with geography, mainly because I have a superstitious dread of setting a murder in a real building without the express permission of the homeowner, but also because I didn’t want to accidentally refer to a real character in a real place or property. So, for example, you won’t find Jude’s home village of Wasby on the map; you will find the church at Martindale but not George’s cottage nearby; you’ll find Hallin Fell but you won’t be able to place the Neilsons’ property beside it; and so forth. And although I’ve taken these liberties with the details I’ve tried to remain true to the overwhelming beauty of the Cumbrian landscape. I hope the many fans of the Lake District will understand, and can find it in their hearts to forgive me for these deliberate mistakes. Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 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 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 More by Jo Allen Acknowledgments One Ollie Neilson woke up groaning in the pool of sunlight that flowed through the cabin window and spilled over onto the bunk. Above the miasma of alcohol, the remnant buzz of a line of coke momentarily silenced him. He thought of Summer, rolled his naked body over and found the space beside him on the mattress empty. She couldn’t have gone far. For a second he lay with his mind racing in awed respect for Summer’s body, the way she used it, the talent she deployed, the tricks she’d taught him. Freeing his tongue, which clung mustily to the roof of his mouth, he ran it round his lips again as his blood pulsed at the thought of what had passed. He was eighteen, rich and fancy free; he’d tasted heaven and was ready to taste it again. The boat rocked as he rolled off the bunk and got to his feet. Or maybe it wasn’t the boat. The sunlight had been the herald of a still, perfect May afternoon and the only thing to disturb them had been the gentle wash of the Ullswater steamer as it forged its way to Patterdale. Hopefully none of the passengers had had a long lens on their camera — or rather, hopefully none of them knew who he was and thought it would be a prank to send pictures to his father. If they did that, he might have to re-evaluate the afternoon’s activities. But even as he thought about it, even as he steadied himself with a hand against the bulkhead, his feet braced slightly apart, he knew that Robert Neilson’s anger, though fierce, would be temporary; and the pleasure Ollie had had from Summer would live with him for a long, long time. If there were pictures, though. He smirked. His mates would think a lot of him then. Him and Will. There was a bit of him wouldn’t mind if there were pictures, as long as only the right people saw them. Focussing, he managed a look around. The cabin looked as if it had hosted an all-night party. Half a dozen empty beer bottles and one still with a sad half-inch of vodka lay on the floor, rebuking him. Any unsteadiness was his and his alone, and the Seven of Swords rested too gently on the lake to disturb them. Ollie looked further. Clothes — his, Summer’s and Will’s — lay strewn across the cabin floor. In a half-hearted attempt at restoring the damage before his stepmother got home, he picked up a pair of jeans and shook them into some sort of order. Summer’s panties dropped from them and he made a half-hearted snatch, but the legacy of his overindulgence was too much, and they fell to the floor. Bending down to pick them up wasn’t such a good idea, and the scrap of pale gold nylon only reminded him that however fragile his head was feeling, everything below the waist was in enthusiastic fettle. He picked his way to the ladder that linked the cabin to the deck four feet above and heaved himself into the sunlight, where Will sprawled naked over the deck. Ollie grinned. At least he’d managed to fall comatose somewhere in the shade and wasn’t going to suffer as his twin would, with a bad-tempered slash of sunburn flaming across the tender skin on the back of his neck. No doubt when Will came round he’d have the same thought that Ollie himself had had, and once Summer woke up no doubt they’d start all over again. It was Will’s turn first, though. They shared everything, and they did it fairly. Summer needn’t be any different. He hauled himself up over the last rung of the ladder, stretching in the sunlight, stirring his brother with his foot. ‘Okay, Willie, boy. Are you up for more? What have you done with her?’ A yawn, a groan to match Ollie’s own of a moment earlier, and Will resurfaced in the land of the living. ‘Oh God. Oh my God.’ He paused, shook
