When You're Smiling

by GS Rhodes

  “Come on, come on,” Kidd said into the receiver. It went to voicemail and he cursed his own stupidity, his own rotten luck.

  DI Kidd sent DC Powell off to find DC Campbell and grabbed DC Ravel. Kidd drove like a maniac to get to Colin’s property before anything else could go wrong. His heart was pounding hard in his chest, threatening to break out from underneath his shirt. It all came down to this moment, of that much he was certain. And Zoe was in there.

  When they pulled up outside the house, it was clear to see that they had beaten everybody else here. The door was hanging off the hinges, a car on the drive that Kidd immediately recognised as Campbell’s. Without thinking, Kidd jumped out of the car and ran over to Campbell’s vehicle, looking inside for his body, for any signs of damage, but finding nothing.

  “Fucking hell,” he growled.

  “Anything, sir?” DC Ravel asked. He turned sharply to see her behind him, pulling her jacket around herself.

  “Nothing,” he said, turning his attention back to Colin’s house. It was deathly quiet, which wasn’t a good sign. That wasn’t a good sign for anybody, least of all Zoe.

  “Is DS Sanchez…?” Ravel started. “I offered to come with her sir, she told me not to.”

  “Don’t go thinking this is your fault, Janya,” Kidd said, trying to keep his voice even when it was violently shaking, The adrenaline was too much. The only person whose fault this is, is mine, he thought, looking up at the darkened house, a house that held so many horrors for DI Kidd.

  I shouldn’t have let her go on her own, he thought, scolding himself for even letting that happen. Or I should’ve answered the bloody phone. Always answer your bloody phone, Kidd!

  “Boss?” DC Ravel called, looking down the street at some blue lights off in the distance. “The cavalry’s arrived.”

  “About bloody time,” Kidd grumbled. DC Ravel turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “Tell them I’ve already gone in.”

  “No, you bloody won’t.” Weaver’s voice stopped Kidd in his tracks. He’d parked a little way down the street, walking the rest of the way. His timing was bloody impeccable, as always. “You will wait out here until the armed officers arrive. Who knows what’s going on in there.”

  “Exactly!” Kidd growled. “Zoe is in there.”

  “DS Sanchez is more than capable of handling herself.”

  “I’m not disputing that,” Kidd said. “I’m disputing the fact that she is in there with a bloody murderer and I’m the one that let him walk free.”

  DCI Weaver blinked. He looked to the house and then back at Kidd. There wasn’t really any arguing with that.

  “I have to go in, boss. I have to fix it,” Kidd said. “I’ve got two officers on my team in trouble and I need to fix it. I couldn’t get through to Campbell. I’d already sent him off to drive Tony home. This is Campbell’s car.” He gestured to the haphazardly parked car on the drive.

  “Where is DC Campbell?”

  “That’s a really good question, sir,” DI Kidd replied. “We’re trying to figure that out.”

  “What on earth has happened?”

  “Campbell was driving Tony Warrington home,” Kidd explained. “It’s a bit of a guess at this stage, but I would say that Tony clocked Campbell over the head and tossed him from the car before driving it here and heading inside.”

  “Where—?”

  “Where DS Sanchez is, with Lydia Jones and an unconscious Colin Hansen,” Kidd interrupted. “I’m not asking you to go against protocol here, sir. I’m telling you that I am going inside right now because I need to finish this.”

  “DI Kidd, I can’t let you—”

  “I don’t care, Weaver,” Kidd interrupted again. “You might not want me to go in there, but I’m not about to leave DS Sanchez in there by herself. She is more than capable of handling herself, I know that first hand, but if she ends up hurt, I won’t forgive myself. I can’t go through that again.”

  DCI Weaver opened his mouth to respond. Kidd looked into his eyes, watching the cogs turning, the engine turning over but not quite managing to start. He didn’t seem to have an argument, and it was all the permission that Kidd needed to go inside and finish the job.

  He ignored the blue lights flying down the road behind him, pulling up outside the house. He could hear Weaver saying something to them, maybe giving him a time limit before they waded in, all guns blazing. He wanted to bring Tony in alive if he could. Just like Albert, he wanted him to suffer for what he’d done, for the pain he’d caused.

  He stepped through the front door. He could see that somebody—Tony most likely—had kicked the thing in upon arriving. The only light inside was coming from the living room. The door was closed. He didn’t want to imagine what was going on behind that door, didn’t want to picture the chaos that awaited him. Nevertheless, he reached down and turned the handle, ready to face the beast within.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  “Don’t move!” Tony’s voice barked the second Kidd opened the door even the tiniest amount. “Who is it?” Kidd didn’t know whether it was safer to answer or not. “WHO IS IT?”

  “It’s DI Kidd!” he replied, keeping his voice firm, strong. “Tony? That’s you, isn’t it?” He didn’t reply. He could hear whimpering. He didn’t know where it was coming from, whether the sound was male or female, but it didn’t fill him with an awful lot of hope. “Tony, I think it is you,” Kidd continued. “And I know that you’re a sensible lad, alright? And because you’re sensible, I’m going to come into the room. I promise you, I am on my own. There’s no one with me.”

  “I said, don’t move!” Tony barked, more strangled this time. The whimpering became more pronounced. “Don’t come any closer.”

  “There’s no one with me, Tony,” Kidd said. “It’s alright. I just want to talk to you.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, Tony, I do.”

  “You think I can’t see the blue lights outside?” Tony said, a laugh managing to come through the mania. “You think I can’t hear the voices? I know there are people out there. I know you’ve brought them here.”

  Kidd took a breath and tried again. “I’m on my own, Tony. You have my word on that, alright? I’ve not got anyone with me. I’m just going to come inside. There’s no need to worry, no need to do anything drastic.”

  Tony started shouting again, the words coming out jumbled, muffled as two voices joined in with the shouts, one coming through a little stronger than the other. One he recognised as DS Sanchez.

  Kidd stepped into the room and shut the door behind him, putting his hands in the air so Tony could see them. On one side of the room, he could see Zoe and Lydia as close to the window as possible, Zoe in front of Lydia, Lydia’s face crumpled as she quietly cried. He couldn’t blame her. Like it wasn’t enough to have seen a dead body in the past week, she was probably supposed to be the next one. He wondered what had happened. Maybe she’d figured it out before they had. Maybe she’d gone digging around in Tony’s business and it was enough to cause this.

  Then there was Tony.

  He was still wearing the same grey t-shirt and joggers he’d been wearing when they’d let him go. There were sweat stains on the pits of the tee. In front of him, the shiny blade of a knife was pressed to Joe Warrington’s pale, white neck. That was a twist that Kidd hadn’t been expecting.

  “See?” Kidd said, finding his voice. “No one’s with me, Tony. It’s just me.” He looked over at DS Sanchez. “You alright?”

  She shrugged. “Been better,” she said. “You took your time. Well done on letting the murderer go.”

  “Penny dropped a smidge too late,” Kidd said. “I’m out of practice.”

  “Stop it!” Tony barked, pressing the knife a little harder to Joe’s neck. His brother whimpered, tears in his eyes. “I told you not to come in.”

  “You’re right, Tony, you told me not to come in,” he said. “But you told me that you were worried about your brother. It looks to me li
ke you’re not all that worried about him after all.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I’d say we’re even, Tony, yeah?” Kidd said. “I don’t want to hurt you, alright? I don’t want anything to happen to you, and I certainly don’t want anything to happen to Joe.” He shifted his gaze to Joe Warrington who locked eyes with him. Eyes that pleaded with him, eyes just like his mother’s. He turned his gaze back to Tony. “So let’s talk.”

  “I’m sick of talking,” Tony said. “We did enough talking.”

  “Yeah, and you thought you’d got me, didn’t you?” Kidd said. “You almost did.”

  “I know I did. You coppers are all the same, thick as shit,” Tony spat. “I was in your bloody station, right in your hands and you couldn’t even get it right.”

  “Five minutes either way, Tony, and I wouldn’t have let you out of that station. I’d have slammed you in a cell and you’d be going down for murder.”

  “I didn’t!” he shouted.

  Kidd couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What the bloody hell do you mean, you didn’t?” Kidd shouted. “You killed her, Tony. You killed Jennifer Berry, you left the body in Bushy Park, you sliced her open. How can you say you didn’t—?”

  “I didn’t mean to!” he shouted over him. And it was in that moment that Kidd could see the fear in the young boy’s eyes. Absolute terror. “It was an accident.”

  Kidd did his utmost not to scoff in the boy’s face. He did have a knife to his brother’s throat, after all. He didn’t want to antagonise him. But an accident? Even the suggestion of that made Kidd feel sick to his stomach. How could he say it was an accident after everything he did to her?

  “Explain yourself,” Kidd demanded. “I don’t see how it could have been an accident, Tony, the way she was left—”

  “I had to do something,” he snapped, tightening his grip on Joe, who somehow managed to look even more panicked than he had done just a moment before. Kidd needed to tread carefully here, keep him talking if he could. “She… I cared for her,” Tony said eventually. “We were making a film. We’d been making it for a long time. So long, that I’d grown attached to her in a way.” He stared off past Kidd, wistfully, like he was seeing her in his mind’s eye, the very mention of her taking him back to a moment when he wasn’t in a place such as this.

  “Go on,” Kidd said.

  “She was my muse,” he said looking at Kidd. “We worked so well together. It was beautiful, really. And I wanted more than that. So, I tried to offer her more and she said no. I didn’t want to jeopardise the film we were making, she really was wonderful in it, a terrific actress.”

  And you took that away from her, Kidd thought.

  “And so when we were filming in the park, I tried again, and she got upset with me. Very upset with me, in fact, and she started to fight with me about it. She got angry, physical, pushing me. I pushed her back. I didn’t mean to push her so hard, but I was frustrated and… and she fell.”

  “She fell?”

  “She hit her head on a rock jutting out from the ground,” Tony said, looking down at the floor like he could see it, like he could see her lying there. “I said her name over and over again but she didn’t respond. She was just quiet on the ground. Bleeding.”

  “But why The Grinning Murders, Tony?” Kidd asked. “Why go to those lengths? Why do all of that to her?”

  “To hide it,” Tony said. “I’d seen what Albert Hansen had done. He was going to be my next project. I’d been talking to Colin for weeks at that point. I’d been to see him in prison, I’d seen how he’d done it. I thought… I thought if I did it… if I copied him then no one would ever think… that no one would ever find out…”

  He looked over at Lydia, his mouth turning into a snarl. “But someone knew a little bit too much, didn’t they?”

  Lydia cowered away, getting closer and closer to the window. Tony’s hand was shaking.

  “You just couldn’t keep it to yourself, could you? You had to try and go all Nancy Drew, didn’t you, Lydia? Couldn’t leave well enough alone!”

  “She was my friend!” Lydia shouted.

  “She was more than a friend to me!” Tony shouted back.

  “And what about Joe?” Kidd said, bringing his attention off Lydia. It wouldn’t do well to get him all worked up. “Why would you try to frame Joe?”

  He looked down at his younger brother, someone he was supposed to protect, to look out for.

  “He’s always thought he was better than me,” Tony snarled. “No matter what I did, it was never good enough for mum and dad. We go to the same university, who are they proud of? Little Joseph for moving out. Joseph’s got the social media following. Joseph’s making a career for himself, what are you doing, Tony? Huh? Joseph, Joseph, Joseph!”

  “But framing your own brother,” Kidd said, “that’s pretty low.”

  “Then maybe I am low!” Tony barked. “Maybe I am. But I had you fooled, didn’t I?” The knife moved steadily away from Joe’s neck. His grip around his brother loosening as he focussed entirely on Kidd. “I had you for a while, didn’t I? Had everybody thinking it was little Joe. So close.”

  Kidd shook his head. “You think you’re as clever as Albert Hansen? You’re nothing but a cheap imitation.”

  Kidd practically watched the words float across the space between them and smack Tony in the face. The anger etched into his every expression deepened, became more pronounced, and Kidd knew this would be his only chance.

  Kidd burst forward. His brother distracted, his grip not quite as tight, Joe knocked Tony out of the way. It was enough to make Tony stumble, enough for him to swing wildly with the blade in a panic.

  Kidd dodged, raising his arm and earning himself a brand new cut to go along with the bruise Joe had given him the day before. He really wasn’t having much luck with the Warringtons.

  “He’s going for the door, Kidd!” Zoe barked.

  Kidd bolted for the living room door, watching as Tony flew through it, and out into the night. Into the waiting arms of the police. But Kidd knew better than that. He had a knife. Either they would shoot him or he would hurt himself before they could. He’d seen it happen one too many times, read one too many police reports, and he wasn’t about to let that happen this time.

  He flew out after Tony, who had stupidly stopped in the glare of the headlights. Kidd took his chance and dove at him, knocking the blade from his hand and the wind out of him as he hit the cold, hard concrete.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  The ambulance arrived and tended to Colin Hansen, checked that the dog was alright, too. Turned out, Tony had kicked the absolute living daylights out of him to stop him yapping, but he would be alright. While that was going on, Kidd stole a quiet moment to get his arm looked at and get it dressed. It had bled pretty heavily onto his white shirt, which was only good for the dustbin now. That was one bloodstain that wouldn’t come out anytime soon, not that he wanted to try. He wouldn’t want to be reminded of everything that had happened tonight, anyway, if he could help it.

  “That was some piece of detective work you did there, DI Kidd.” Weaver appeared in front of him as he sat on the back of the ambulance, having his arm wrapped up in a bandage by the young, male paramedic. “How did you get to it?”

  “I didn’t look carefully enough,” Kidd said. “I would’ve gotten there quicker if I’d read the signs a little better. I got blinkered, really.”

  Weaver shrugged. “It happens to the best of us. At least no one was hurt.”

  Kidd raised an eyebrow at him.

  “No one else,” Weaver corrected. “Apart from yourself.”

  “I’ve had worse,” Kidd replied. “It was the CCTV from the prison.”

  “What?”

  He turned to the paramedic who was trying to keep his focus firmly on Kidd’s arm. “Don’t you listen to any of this,” Kidd said. The young lad looked up and smirked at Kidd, who winked, making him look back down.

  Weaver rolled his
eyes so hard that Kidd could practically hear them.

  “Tony had been to visit Hansen in prison a few times,” Kidd said. When he’d got DC Ravel to replay the tape over and over again, he’d noticed the limp that Tony’d had. Joe didn’t have that. He hadn’t had it the whole time Kidd had seen him. It was the smallest thing, but it was enough to differentiate between the two of them. If he’d have seen the CCTV a few minutes earlier… who knows?

  “He mentioned a documentary he was wanting to make,” Kidd continued. “He said he’d been talking to Colin for that. But he kept on using Joe’s name. Something tells me that, as much as he says killing Jennifer was an accident, there was an element of premeditation in there. The knife wounds, for one. You don’t just make those if you’ve not been thinking about it. All the visits to Colin and Albert.”

  “You think Albert convinced him to do it?”

  Kidd took a breath. The thought had crossed his mind when Tony had been telling his story. Kidd had seen firsthand just how persuasive, how snakelike Albert could be. But could he really talk someone into doing his dirty work for him? Was it a coincidence that Jennifer was the daughter of one of the previous victims? Kidd didn’t know. He didn’t like to believe that Albert Hansen had that power. He didn’t want to believe that anybody did.

  “I hope not, sir,” Kidd said eventually. “I think he just got caught up in it. I’m not making excuses for him, not at all, but… I just hope not.”

  “Well, you did very well, Kidd,” Weaver said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I think I did the right thing bringing you back early, don’t you?”

  It was the closest thing DI Kidd would get to a compliment from Weaver, so he’d take it.

  “I think I got lucky.”

  Weaver shrugged. “I think luck plays a bigger part in policing than any of us would like to admit,” he said. “There’s skill, there’s detective work, there’s being damn good at your job, but sometimes you just need the pieces to fall in your lap at the right time. Timing is everything.”