'Turning about,' said PC Barker, a young male officer sitting at the rudder of the outboard motor. The boat reached the end of the quarry and slowed. Behind them, gorse and heather stretched away with a mix of greys and browns, and a clump of trees in the far distance were bare. Their orange lifejackets were the only dots of colour in the dingy autumn afternoon.

A large support lorry was parked on the grassy bank, and beside it the small support team were preparing the diving gear. The ocean occupies seventy per cent of the Earth's surface, that leaves sixty-five per cent of the Earth, excluding dry land, unexplored.'Īt the water's edge, twenty metres away, clumps of dead reeds swayed in the breeze. Did you know, only five per cent of the ocean floor is mapped. 'I saw this show on the Discovery Channel. 'Sorry, boss.' He grinned, shifting back along the seat.

'Are you trying to sit on my lap?' she snapped as he leaned across her to peer over the edge. The visibility couldn't have been more than a couple of feet before it became a swirl of dark shadows. She followed his youthful gaze across the rippling surface of the water. 'There could be anything down there,' said Detective Sergeant John McGorry, who was squashed in the small plastic seat beside Erika. Even at high tide, the Thames is ten to twelve metres.' The average pond or canal is a couple of metres deep. My divers can only stay down for short periods. 'Anything beyond a depth of thirty metres is tough. 'So, it's going to be tough to salvage what we're looking for?' asked Erika, noting her tone. She was hunched over a screen at the front of the boat, where the results of the sonar were beamed back and displayed in inky purple shades, blooming across the screen like a bruise. 'Water depth is 23.7 metres,' said Sergeant Lorna Crozier, the Dive Supervisor. The disused quarry was in the centre of Hayes Common, 225 acres of woodland and heath situated next to the village of Hayes on the outskirts of South London. The small inflatable Met Police Marine Recovery boat churned across the water of Hayes Quarry, dragging behind it a compact transponder, scanning the bottom deep below. Detective Chief Inspector Erika Foster crossed her arms over the bulky life jacket against the icy wind, wishing she'd worn a thicker coat.

Dark Water by Robert Bryndza