Thirteen
Through his binoculars, DC Nigel Beard watched the young woman leave the house. She was dressed in tight blue jeans, a red windproof jacket and a black woollen hat. A black camera case on a strap hung from her right shoulder. His eyes followed her across the road and down onto the beach, where he knew she would spend the next few hours taking photographs of breaking waves. Nigel didn’t understand how anybody could find that interesting, especially in the wind that was blowing in from the sea, but he had watched her do it every afternoon that week.
Nigel placed the binoculars on the window ledge and made a note in his log, before turning his attention back to the terrace house with the dark green door and bay windows that she had come from. In addition to watching the scene at th
