by Michael Wood
FIFTY
The water had been drained from Limb Lane and the fire crew had left, much to Matilda’s disappointment. Being carried over the pool of dirty water had been the first contact she had had with a man since James had died. It helped that he was young and good-looking too.
Matilda cursed herself. How could she allow herself to think about being with another man? It had only been eighteen months since James’s death. Maybe because she missed him so much, his touch, his body, his smell, his hands, his long fingers, that she just wanted to feel another body close to hers, even if it was a man young enough to be her son carrying her over dirty, smelly water.
She saw Starling House in the distance but didn’t turn left down the dirt track. Instead, she followed Rory’s directions and continued a mile up the road and turned right. The smooth tarmac gave way to a bumpy road of loose gravel. Matilda wished she’d returned in the Land Rover rather than her aged Ford Focus. Ahead, she saw Rory, still in his wet-weather gear. He flagged her down and directed her to a safe parking space.
He opened the car door for her. ‘I’m absolutely pissing freezing,’ he moaned.
‘Well, that’s not the worst greeting I’ve received today,’ she said, remembering the tirade the ACC burst into when she’d first entered her office. Don’t people say hello anymore?
‘My coat’s wet, my trousers are wet, my shoes are squelching. If I end up with pneumonia—’
‘Rory, go back to the station,’ she said calmly.
‘What?’
‘Go back to the station and get changed.’
‘But—’
‘Just go. Oh, there’s a police Land Rover outside my house that needs picking up too.’
Rory stood, mouth agape, as Matilda made her way over to where Christian and Scott were talking in hushed tones.
‘Give me the bad news.’
Christian smiled and led the way through a thicket of bare trees to a small opening. He didn’t need to say anything. Hanging from the thick branch of a gnarled oak tree swung the lifeless body of Jacob Brown. He was several feet from the ground, and he swayed gently in the stiff autumnal breeze.
Matilda stepped forward and looked up at the teenager. She tilted her head as she queried what she was seeing. The rope was expertly tied around the bough of the tree in a knot that would never come loose. Around his purple neck, the noose was perfectly drawn.
‘Why would he escape just to hang himself?’ Scott asked.
‘He didn’t,’ Matilda said.
‘Sorry?’
‘This is another staged death. Call a forensics team and get Adele Kean down here. Jacob Brown was murdered.’
It was early evening before the full forensic team was in place and floodlights had been drafted in. Heavy clouds were once again looming and, according to the BBC Weather app on Matilda’s phone, it wouldn’t be long before another downpour arrived. They needed to move fast before darkness fell, and Matilda wanted Jacob cut down as soon as possible.
A large plastic sheet was placed directly below Jacob in case any evidence came loose from the body. Matilda, Christian, Adele and scene of crime officers were dressed in white forensic suits. Scott had been sent back to HQ to change into warm, dry clothes, though he was reluctant to do so. Sian was on her way to relieve him.
A stepladder was placed next to Jacob’s hanging body, and Adele made her way cautiously up the steel rungs. Christian held onto the ladder as it was on rough ground.
‘What first made you think of murder, Mat?’ Adele said, always keen to see how other people’s minds worked.
‘His fingernails. They’re broken; there’s either blood or mud or fibres beneath them. He was very clean when I saw him last at Starling House. He’s obviously been in a struggle and it obviously happened outside.’
‘Anything else?’
‘His clothes are torn. Again, he was a neat and tidy lad while in Starling House. If he had escaped and climbed over the fence he might have got caught on barbed wire but that wouldn’t have torn his clothes to this extent.’
‘Anything else?’ Adele asked, trying to suppress a smile.
Matilda looked to Christian and rolled her eyes. It was like being back in training. ‘Well, I’m not an expert on tree climbing but looking at the trunk there’s no way you could climb that without a ladder. As there isn’t one around and Jacob is dangling several feet from the ground, I’m guessing someone killed him then strung him up.’
‘Well done DCI Darke. You can join my department any day.’
‘That’s handy to know.’
Adele leaned in to Jacob Brown to have a closer look at the rope around his neck. ‘There is bruising, but it’s not sufficient with the type of rope used and with the drop. Judging by the size and shape of the marks I’d guess he was strangled and then strung up. It’s not easy to tell from this angle, or this light. There doesn’t seem to be any sign of a broken bone either,’ she said, firmly holding Jacob’s head with both hands.
Matilda shivered as a gust of wind tore through the woods. ‘Do you think he was killed here and then hanged, or killed elsewhere?’
‘It’s difficult to tell,’ Adele said looking down at the mud. ‘The ground is very soft due to the amount of rain we’ve had. It’s obviously disturbed because we’ve all been walking on it, and the fallen leaves and branches from the recent storm could have covered up a lot of evidence.’
‘What about time of death?’
‘Due to the weather conditions since the time he was reported missing I’d say he wasn’t missing from Starling House for long before he died.’
‘So he was lured from Starling House, for whatever reason, brought here and strangled,’ Christian said. ‘But the killer wanted to make it look like suicide.’
‘It makes no sense,’ Matilda said, shaking her head. ‘We’re within spitting distance of Starling House. Why stage an escape just to make it look like he committed suicide when he could easily have been hanged in his cell?’
‘Do you think Jacob was silenced?’
‘It’s a possibility. Maybe Jacob saw who killed Ryan Asher and tried to blackmail them. If it was one of the guards, Jacob could have said he wanted out in exchange for his silence. However, Jacob would have been a loose cannon so the killer lured him here and strangled him.’
‘And made a botched attempt to make it look like suicide,’ Adele said as she cautiously made her way back down the stepladder.
‘Maybe not botched. Maybe it isn’t supposed to look like a suicide at all. Ryan Asher was stabbed twelve times, which we’ve said is reminiscent of twelve members of a jury. Maybe Jacob is hanging as if he’s been sentenced to death by hanging for his crime,’ Matilda said.
‘But, like you said, why break him out when he could easily have been killed in his cell?’
‘Jacob Brown was sentenced for killing his girlfriend. She was found raped and murdered in woodland. Maybe the killer is copying his crime. A sort of quid pro quo.’
‘In which case,’ Christian said, ‘there are six more victims waiting in Starling House for the killer to choose from next.’
FIFTY-ONE
By the time Matilda left the woods it was pitch-dark and a fine drizzle had begun. Between them, she and Christian had decided not to interview the inmates and staff of Starling House that night but to leave them until the morning. In the meantime, uniformed officers were posted inside the building overnight to make sure another inmate or member of staff didn’t flee, or wasn’t murdered.
Once Adele had finished examining Jacob Brown in the woods, he was carefully cut down and taken to the mortuary, where Adele would carry out a post-mortem first thing in the morning. That left Matilda with nothing to do but go home and lick her wounds.
She had only been home a few minutes when her phone beeped an incoming text message:
My son has just told me his bosses have found out about us looking into the Hartley case. He’s been suspended. Not sure how it leaked out. I’ll phone yo
u tomorrow. Pat.
Matilda didn’t bother replying. It hadn’t been the best day in either investigation. Ideally, she would like an evening off and to think of nothing work related. She knew that wouldn’t happen. Her mind wouldn’t allow it.
She should have a bath. A long soothing soak in the tub. But the thought of lying in warm water with her own filth floating around her didn’t sound too relaxing so she settled on a shower instead. She turned the temperature up to as hot as she could stand it and stood under the cascade of scolding needles. When she stepped out her face was bright red from the heat, but she felt cleansed. She needed to feel the pain in order to begin to relax.
With James’s dressing gown almost burying her, she slipped her feet into novelty slippers, made herself a mug of tea and went into the living room.
Starling House had been allowed to operate almost behind closed doors for twenty years. Kate had covered up every incident from minor ones to the biggies like Elly Caine assaulting Jacob Brown. She hadn’t wanted the adverse publicity, that was understandable, but she must have realized one day it would all disintegrate around her ears. That day had arrived and Kate had to be held accountable.
She was struggling with these cases. Whatever was going on at Starling House was frightening, and Matilda was starting to worry she was in over her head. Kate Moloney was obviously a loose cannon. It was shocking to see how such a together, stern person when she first met her was now beginning to fall apart. Kate reminded her of herself. Matilda presented herself as a ball-buster at work who stood for no nonsense. Would she eventually implode and allow her emotions to get the better of her?
Then there was Thomas Hartley. Matilda couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the teenager trapped in Starling House with those murderers, the abusive staff, and goodness knows what else went on that was being kept hidden from Matilda and her team. The evidence that had led him to being locked up was purely circumstantial so why had he been jailed for life? What had been uncovered, or not uncovered, during the investigation that had implicated Thomas Hartley as the most likely suspect? Did nobody think to question his motive? If Thomas was innocent, there must have been a massive cover-up at Greater Manchester Police. But who was involved, how high did this go, and what the hell was Matilda getting herself into?
FIFTY-TWO
Kate Moloney had hardly slept. She had still been awake at two o’clock. Her mind a whirl with everything that had occurred over the past few days – Ryan Asher’s murder, now Jacob Brown being killed. Her staff all seemed to be hiding something dark in their past, and she was dreading what tomorrow would bring.
Tomorrow was now here. Kate was back in her office, hair uncombed, no make-up, no bright red lipstick, no killer heels. There was a large and very strong black coffee on her desk in front of her but it hadn’t been touched. She had no drive or motivation to do anything.
An image out of the window caught her attention and she looked up to see a fleet of cars and police vans heading down the drive. What fresh hell was about to descend upon Starling House?
She opened the cupboard in the corner of the room and took out a black jacket. She pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail and looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. She looked a mess. She looked tired. She looked as if she had given up. However, she would have to do for now.
‘DCI Darke, how can I help you?’ she asked as she exited her office and saw Matilda lead the way with a troop of uniformed and plain-clothed officers behind her.
‘We’re here to take all of the inmates back to South Yorkshire Police and formally interview them.’
‘What? You can’t do that?’
‘I think you’ll find I can. I’ll also be doing the same with your staff, including you.’
‘This is outrageous.’
‘What’s outrageous is the fact Starling House has been allowed to operate without being supervised for so long.’
Kate tried to say something but was too taken aback to speak. There was nothing she could do as a team of officers filed into the building and headed for the stairs to collect the inmates. This would definitely mark the final nail in the coffin for Starling House.
Within half an hour of them arriving, Matilda and her team had secured all six remaining inmates in marked police vehicles and were heading to HQ. There, they would be held in separate cells and interviewed individually. By the end of the day, hopefully, they would have a clear picture of just what had been going on in Starling House.
Kate stood in the doorway and watched as the fleet of police cars disappeared through the iron gates, turned left and headed for Sheffield city centre. When she turned around she saw Matilda in the foyer talking to some of the staff.
‘Richard Grover, I am arresting you for causing a child to engage in sexual activity and aggravated assault by abusing a position of trust. You do not have to say anything; but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?’
‘What the hell—?’ Kate almost screamed. ‘This is too much. Abusing a position of trust? Richard is one of the most dedicated and hard-working members of staff I’ve ever employed.’
Matilda ignored Kate and moved on to Fred Percival. ‘Mr Percival, I’d like you to go with my officers to be formally interviewed back at the station. I believe you know what this is about.’
Fred didn’t reply. His face said it all. Gone was the annoying smile and the air of superiority, replaced by a hangdog look of regret. Sian Mills led him out of the building by the elbow to a waiting unmarked car.
‘Are you going to tell me what is going on?’ Kate said, blocking Matilda from leaving.
‘Fred Percival has a record of underage sex among young boys. Richard Grover has been engaging in sexual activity with some of the inmates here. God only knows what the others have been up to,’ she said, looking at the remaining staff over her shoulder. ‘I have put steps in place to have Starling House temporarily closed down while you can be replaced and a new team of staff can be employed. I’m waiting to hear from BB Security, Sheffield City Council, and the Home Office.’
‘You’re closing us down?’
‘Temporarily.’
‘No,’ Kate said. Despite the fact she knew it was all over for her she couldn’t quite let go. ‘No, I won’t have it. I’m not leaving. I’ve been here for twenty years. You know … You know what it’s like … I’ve told you … You’ve seen.’ She started panicking. A rage had taken over her and her entire body was shaking with adrenaline as she started to lose grip on her emotions and reality. ‘I want you to leave. Until I’m told otherwise, I am still in charge of Starling House. I want you out. I want you and your team out of this building right now,’ she screamed in Matilda’s face.
‘We will leave, but we will be back. And if you attempt to stop us gaining access I will have you arrested for obstructing a murder investigation. I’m going to be leaving police officers here too. I’m sorry Kate, but I can’t trust you or your staff anymore.’
With the last word, Matilda turned and left the building with her team following. Kate and the remaining staff looked on with horror-struck expressions. Everything was falling apart.
FIFTY-THREE
DC Faith Easter was late arriving to work. The clear-up from the storm had caused delays on the roads as felled trees had blocked roads and the heavy rain had caused such damage to the tarmac that driving was no longer safe. Faith wasn’t surprised. Sheffield City Council was famous for patching up when it should be fully repairing damaged roads.
The open-plan office of the CID was virtually empty. The odd plain-clothed detective here and there but the main players in the Ryan Asher case were absent. Late the previous night, Faith had been speaking to a DI from Norwich police about Malcolm Preston. Ryan’s name was mentioned as the suspect the press had hinted at but there were no witnesses. Social media had, at the time, thro
wn Ryan’s name around as the perpetrator and there were rumours he had admitted it in private circles. However, without evidence, and without a witness statement from Malcolm Preston, it would be a crime that Ryan would go unpunished for.
Faith was itching to talk to Matilda. DCI Darke had asked her to look into Ryan’s past and find if there was anything there that would link to his murder. Surely this was worth following up. Malcolm’s family hadn’t received justice for what had happened to the twelve-year-old. Or maybe they had, if they were behind his killing.
Faith took a packet of dark chocolate KitKats from her bag and put them in Sian’s snack drawer. That more than covered up for the two fruit Club biscuits and the Mars bar she had eaten the day before. As she returned to her desk she remembered something. She took over from Rory to look into Ryan’s past. He must have come across Malcolm Preston during his search. Then it dawned on her. He had. He mentioned it at the briefing in the boardroom at Starling House.
She went over to his untidy desk and rummaged through his notes. It may have looked a mess but he had labelled each piece of paper at the top with the inmate’s name. She flicked through his notes on Ryan Asher and there is was – Malcolm Preston’s name circled and a question mark next to it. Further inspection showed he hadn’t followed it up. His notes on all the inmates were extensive and full of conjecture, but none of it was relevant to solving Ryan or Jacob’s murder.
The double doors burst open. Faith jumped and immediately slunk back to her desk. Matilda entered followed by the rest of what used to be the Murder Investigation Team.
‘Ma’am, can I have a word—?’ Faith began.
‘Not now,’ Matilda replied, not stopping but storming off towards her office.
‘It’s kind of—’
‘I said not now.’
The office door slammed shut, the glass rattling in the door frame.
‘What’s going on?’ Faith whispered to Sian.
‘It’s all kicking off. We’ve got all of the inmates from Starling House downstairs waiting to be interviewed and a couple of the staff too. You’ve no idea what they’ve been up to at that place. Matilda’s put in a request to the Home Office that it should be closed down.’