Chapter One
Their Canadian trip should have
been the holiday of a lifetime as the Stone family celebrated Daniel’s
promotion to Detective Inspector at the Hillingdon police station.
Unfortunately, memories of the holiday had the opposite effect, as on only the
fourth day of enjoying the many exploits North Vancouver’s seaside had to offer
in 1975, their whole world was thrown into chaos.
Moments earlier on the beach, a relaxed and contented Daniel
Stone stood up from his deckchair to take in the wonderful views of the ocean,
his loving wife, Angela, and their two children; twins Scott and Jessica. He
had to shadow his Casio watch from the sun, squinting to read the digits. ‘It’s
gone six o’clock kids, time to go back to the hotel for something to eat,’
Daniel said with a smile. Angela slipped a bookmark into the book she was
reading, and once they had gathered their towels and suntan lotion, they walked
the short journey to where they were staying.
Inside the hotel, Daniel looked up and blinked the sweat from
his eyes. He saw the ceiling fan rotating at mid-speed and towelled his face
dry before sitting down with his family. A nearby waiter handed Daniel a menu.
‘Mr. Stone, sir, would you like the BBC News on today?’ asked the waiter,
knowing the preference of the guest over the past few days.
‘Yes, thank you,’ Daniel said before ordering and handing back
the menu. The waiter walked to the wooden surround television, pressed a button
on the side, and the picture and sound emerged onto the screen.
Daniel Stone enjoyed keeping up-to-date with current affairs
back home, and with his new position on the force his interest was keener
still. He and Angela turned to the television, and for fun, the children played
games of whispering what they thought other diners were saying to each other at
other tables.
The food arrived, and as they began to eat, Daniel divided his
attention between family discussion and what the Newsreader was saying. Once
the current story had ended, the next grabbed Daniel’s complete attention.
‘Breaking news,’ the Newsreader announced as a picture of a blue bungalow was
shown on the screen.
‘Can I, Dad? I really want to learn how to dance,’ Jessica said,
excitedly. Daniel didn’t hear her. His gaze didn’t move from the television,
and his head began to shake involuntarily.
‘What’s wrong, honey?’ asked Angela, intrigued. She turned to
face the television and instantly recognised the bungalow. The broadcast from
West Drayton, continued:
‘I’m stood outside the bungalow of Albert and Joyce Stone,’ the
man said into a thin metal microphone in a volume to be heard over the police
sirens bellowing behind him. ‘The couple were found dead this afternoon. Both
had been tied back-to-back and stabbed multiple times in their kitchen. We’re
seeking information from anyone who may have seen someone acting unusual, out
of the ordinary, in or around the West Drayton area.’
Angela reached out and held Daniel’s hands tightly, and tears
swam down their faces as the story continued, showing a picture a Daniel’s
parents.
‘That’s Grandma and Granddad,’ both Scott and Jessica said
almost in unison. At eleven years of age they were old enough to understand
what was happening; sadness took them. Daniel was choked, and his ability to speak
seemed so far away; he simply closed his eyes and nodded. The hotel manager
came running into the restaurant area.
‘Mr. Stone… Mr. Stone, there’s an
urgent telephone call for you.’
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