Lethal Instincts

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Authors: Kasia Radzka

BOOK: Lethal Instincts
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Contents

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Title Page

Disclaimer

Dedication

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

The End

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Lethal Instincts

A Lexi Ryder Crime Thriller

By Kasia Radzka

This is a work of fiction. That means it's made up. Names, characters, incidents, events, places or organisations are either the author's imagination or used fictitiously. This ebook is for entertainment purposes only.
 

Copyright (C) 2016 Kasia Radzka

All rights reserved.
 

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
 

Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc.

To my family…

Chapter 1

Rain tapped heavily on the window, obscuring the view to the inside of the vehicle. No one would make out his features if they walked past or glanced from across the road. His view wasn’t the best either, he could just make out her outline as she walked along the path, umbrella in hand, a pair of red wellingtons against her black stockings and above-the-knee denim skirt. A white sweater hung down from underneath her black hip-length coat.
 

His job was to watch. Observe. Take notes and make contact should the need arise. He didn’t completely understand the purpose of the operation but he was getting paid a mint and he had learnt from another’s error that questioning the boss’s motives was a bad idea. The other guy ended up sliced and diced and thrown in the river. He wasn’t prepared to experience the same fate.
 

The rain began to subside but the grey clouds hovered above, threatening another downpour. He stayed in the car and watched as she walked towards her building. She reached for the keys in her pocket, and slid the key through the front door before disappearing behind it.
 

He counted to ten and the lights in the second floor flat switched on, illuminating what was the living area. He knew this because he had been in the cramped flat before. His instruction had been to observe but he needed to understand the subject; the information he had obtained had not shed any further light on the woman, except to confuse him some more.
 

She came from money. She could live in Kensington with views of Hyde Park and not bat an eyelid at the rent, and yet she chose a modest one bedroom flat in Camden, a short stroll from the Tube. The only personal touches that he had seen in the flat were postcards from a few European countries, Spain, France, and Croatia. There was only one shot of the woman but it was one taken from behind where she was staring out to the Mediterranean coast, her hair caught in the breeze. One hand held the wide-brimmed hat securely on her head, and her tanned bronze back accentuated by the white strapped singlet she wore. And the flowers. She had vases of fresh flowers in the kitchenette, living area and her bedroom. There was even an orchid in the bathroom. An odd place for a flower but after a bit of research he had discovered that they thrived in the humid conditions.

And so he was confused. Lexi Ryder was not what he had expected. But then his job had taught him not to make assumptions. More importantly, not to underestimate people; and life had taught him not to underestimate any woman.
 

He realised that Lexi Ryder was not going to be an easy assignment. She might just be one of his hardest.
 

Chapter 2

Lexi Ryder sat on the grass staring at the stone walls of University College London, otherwise known as UCL. Once upon a time she had been a student there on an exchange programme during her university days. A time that included as much partying around Europe as it had studying.

This time she wasn’t there as a student. Nor was she making a social visit to reminisce about old times, as fun as they might have been. This time it was work. A story that had piqued her interest while the newspapers had left it as two paragraphs at the bottom of page three. The benefit of being a freelancer was that she had the luxury to choose what she reported on and to dig where some budgets failed to reach. But that wasn’t the only reason Lexi pursued the story, she realised a long time ago that she had an instinct that got her into trouble but got the job done. She had picked up on the scent of the story after overhearing a conversation between two reporters. A few minutes of research and she had found that not everything was as it seemed and so she found herself here, at the campus, waiting for a woman that would have some answers.
 

Students roamed the campus, a couple lay on a blanket, both engrossed their books, their legs entwined. A lone boy sat at the table furiously typing on his laptop, oblivious to his surroundings. The wind rustled the leaves, students walked with books under their arms, backpacks strapped over their shoulders. Music blared from a speaker somewhere in the distance, a Katy Perry song. Everyone seemed to be making the most of the rare London sunshine, Lexi included.
 

She sat observing the world in front of her, soaking up the natural Vitamin D and wondering what possessed her to stay in London for so long when she had sunshine all year round back home. But where was home? After two years she was no longer certain what the term meant. Home had become wherever she placed her roots at any given time. Today it was London, tomorrow it could be anywhere in the world. Life seemed much easier this way. The only thing she needed to be emotionally involved in was her work.
 

Lexi spotted the person she had come to see. Hannah Brown, a student in her final year of a masters in Criminal Psychology. An honour student from what Lexi had read up, and one that was equally smart as eccentric.

A week earlier, Hannah had contacted the police about a missing overseas student. The police checked it out but found no evidence of foul play, instead there was the one-way ticket to Ukraine and three dropped classes. The police believed she had left on her own accord. Hannah Brown was not convinced, and neither was Lexi, hence why she had agreed to speak with Hannah at the campus.
 

Hannah Brown was medium height, with auburn locks and heavy around the middle. She walked down the stairs of the main building, hips swaying in a 50s style knee-length skirt, carrying a bagel in one hand and a laptop bag in the other. As she approached, Lexi stood and smiled. Hannah’s lips moved but the smile, if that’s what could be called, wasn’t convincing anyone.
 

“You’re new in town,” she said. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“I recently relocated to London,” Lexi said, although recently would no longer cut it, almost two years had passed since she’d landed at Heathrow. Not that she had set a time limit for her stay. It had become a day by day decision to stay or go. At least here she was close enough to the heart of Europe to explore many countries at her whim.
 

Hannah Brown looked her up and down. Lexi waited for the judgements to be made before speaking again.

“Look Hannah, I’m here to hear your side of the story. I understand the police didn’t take your worries seriously. You don’t think Tatiana Petrenko left the country on her own accord?”
 

“Worries? Is that what you call them? They looked at me as if I was an idiot and weren’t too far from charging me with wasting their time,” Hannah said, pulling out a picture and handing it to Lexi. “This girl is missing. She was on campus one week and gone the next.”

Lexi took the picture and studied it. In the photo, Tatiana Petrenko didn’t look older than twenty. Dark brown hair that curled as it drooped around her face and onto her shoulders, she was smiling in the photo but there was hesitancy in her eyes; something being held back. She was happy for the camera but that spark that should have been in the young woman’s eyes was missing. Instead, Lexi saw a sense of fear, a lost innocence that could never be regained.
 

“It’s a big campus, Hannah. People come and go all the time.”

“I won’t argue with that. But I know that she didn’t just drop from her classes and go back to Ukraine.”
 

“How do you know that?”

“Because she had no one to go back to.”
 

“How do you know?” Lexi asked. “How do you know there was no family, no friends or boyfriend waiting for her back home?”
 

“Have you ever had a gut feeling that you knew to be true?” Hannah said.

“Sure, but that’s not exactly evidence of foul play,” Lexi said, playing the devil’s advocate. She believed Hannah’s concerns but she wanted to be convinced of the theory that Tatiana Petrenko had been taken against her will.
 

“What piqued your interest in the story?” Hannah said changing her tune. Lexi noticed something alter in her expression, a sudden interest instead of the initial annoyance.
 

“I was curious about your suspicions.”
 

“Why this one in particular?”

“I take a special interest in these stories.”
 

“These? You mean when women disappear into thin air and you know that something sinister is going down?”

Hannah was spot on with her assumption. Lexi’s primary motivation to get into investigative journalism had been to right the wrongs that were being done to people, especially women. The world was filled with people who had no voice, Lexi wanted to be that person who gave them one. Now she thought Tatiana Petrenko needed a voice and Lexi was determined to give her one.

“You could say that. Now do you want to tell me what you saw?”
 

“It’s more what I didn’t see,” Hannah said.
 

“Which was?”

“Dropping out, packing her bags, letting anyone know, leaving,” Hannah said, throwing the remainder of her bagel in the bin. “You don’t just disappear without someone noticing.”
 

And yet hundreds if not thousands of people around the world did just that. How many missing persons’ reports had been filed every day? Not one or two but dozens of them. Over two hundred thousand people went missing each year in the UK alone.
 

“Did she live in student accommodation?” Lexi asked.
 

“Yes, I can show you.”

“You can get into her room?”

“I have connections,” she said, motioning for Lexi to follow her.

Chapter 3

Tatiana Petrenko lived in the student residence of Connaught Hall on Tavistock Square, a building of Georgian architecture that was pleasantly situated between two gardens – although back home Lexi would have called them parks. The residence hall was just a few minutes’ walk from the main building of UCL.

Lexi followed Hannah across the street and down past Russell Park Gardens towards the building. Tatiana Petrenko had spent the past year there and until last week, she was meant to renew her student visa for a further twelve months. Leaving didn’t make sense, not with just a year of a four-year degree remaining.

They passed a girl sitting on the steps reading from a text book, headphones on her ears. Taking the stairs to the second floor rooms they paused outside the first door to the hallway. Hannah disappeared behind the door while Lexi waited outside, leaning against the wall tapping her fingers against her leg.
 

Lexi’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out, recognising the international code. Someone was calling from home. It could be any of the people she’d left behind, but most likely one of the five who didn’t understand why she had left in the first place.

She chose not to answer, returning the phone to her pocket and letting it ring out as Hannah came out of the room flashing a key in Lexi’s face. “Told you I had connections,” she said.

They took another flight of stairs and walked towards the end of the hallway where Hannah unlocked a door.
 

Tatiana Petrenko’s room was bare but not empty. There was a desk, an empty bed by the window, a set of bookshelves on the left wall, a wardrobe and a bright green rug on the floor. Tatiana Petrenko did not just pack up and leave. The smell of disinfectant hung in the air. A brand new rug lay on the floor and Lexi wondered whether it was Tatiana’s personal touch before she disappeared.

Lexi pulled out a pair of gloves. They had become a staple in her handbag long ago. A past relationship with a detective back home had provided her with a few tips and tricks to keep on standby and more importantly to keep her out of trouble, although where Lexi was concerned, trouble seemed to come knocking more often than not. She didn’t know how to be a good investigative journalist without stepping on a few toes.

Lexi started with the drawers, pulling them out and checking the contents. They were all empty, free from dust, still a remnant of disinfectant hanging in the air. The wardrobe gave nothing away, three coat hangers hung neatly next to each other. The compact bathroom was spotless and hair free.
 

Hannah followed Lexi out of the cramped bathroom space and stood by the door. “UCL will have someone in here by the end of the week. No one will give Tatiana a second thought,” Hannah said, looking around.
 

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