Silence of the Bones: A Murder Force Crime Thriller

by Adam J. Wright

  “Not that one,” he said, taking it out of her hand and putting it back into his pocket carefully. “Those two.”

  She flattened them out on the table and inspected the patterns Alina had drawn. “I don’t know. What are they?”

  “Those marks were scratched into the inside of the skulls.”

  “Daisy’s and Joanna’s?”

  He nodded and took a swig of bitter. “The two Xs were inside Joanna’s skull, and the eight were inside Daisy’s. They’re markers of where the victims are buried. Joanna was his second victim, so there are only two marks. Daisy was the eighth victim, so eight Xs. It’s an illustration of the collection.”

  “A collection of dead bodies.”

  “Yes, the killer’s most prized possession.”

  “It’s macabre.”

  He wasn’t going to argue with that, so he went back to his burger and chips.

  “That phone number in your pocket,” Dani said. “Is it Alina’s?”

  He sighed. “Yes.”

  “You don’t seem very happy about it.”

  “I’m not every good at this sort of thing. Sure, I’ve got her number, but when do I use it? I don’t know the rules of dating. I’ve been out of the game for too long.”

  “Do you want some advice?”

  He shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

  “There are no rules. Ring her when you feel the time is right, not when some imagined set of rules says you should.”

  He put his last chip in his mouth. “Okay.”

  “You still don’t seem very happy, Tony.”

  “I am. I mean, I’m glad I’ve got her number, and I’d like to see her outside work, but I’m just not very good at small talk. My work is my life. I know that’s sad, but it’s the truth.”

  “It isn’t just the truth for you. Apart from walking my dogs, I don’t do much else other than work. Do you think Battle has much of a life outside of the job?”

  “Probably not,” he admitted.

  “This line of work isn’t like a nine to five, where you get home in the evening and put your job aside for a while. It becomes ingrained into your being.”

  He nodded. She was right about that.

  “It’ll be the same for Alina,” she said. “Her passion is digging around in graves and examining bones, for God’s sake. You don’t think she leaves work in the evening and leads some kind of normal life where she leaves all that behind, do you? Of course not. She’s as geeky as you are.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Not only you; me as well. Everyone in the team, probably.”

  “Except DC Ryan,” he said. “With that flash car, I’m sure he lives some kind of double life.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, you could be right, there.”

  He finished his pint and said, “Do you want another?”

  “Best not. We should get an early start in the morning. See what Penny Gibson has to say for herself.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “You’re not certain it’s her, are you?” she said, standing up.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Something about it just doesn’t feel right.”

  “Well, we’ll probably find out tomorrow.”

  They left the pub and strolled back to the guest house. Tony said goodnight to the DI and went to his room, where he put the kettle on. While it warmed up, he put the TV on low volume, for some background noise, and stood at the window, looking out at the silhouette of the old Templar chapel. The place still looked lonely, set apart from the village, partly hidden behind the trees.

  On an impulse, he took his phone and the paper with Alina’s number out of his pocket. He dialled the digits quickly, before he had a chance to talk himself out of it.

  She answered after a couple of rings, during which Tony had forced himself to stay on the line and not hang up. “Hello?”

  “Alina? It’s Tony. Tony Sheridan.”

  “Tony, how are you?”

  “I’m all right. I just thought I’d give you a quick ring. If you’re not too busy to talk, of course.”

  “No, I’m not too busy. I was just watching television.”

  “Yeah, me too.” He looked over at the small flatscreen. The News was on, the screen showing a reporter standing outside Downing Street. “Well, I just turned it on, actually. I had a burger at the pub earlier, and I’ve just got back.”

  “Oh, that’s nice. I had a risotto.”

  “That sounds fancy. Microwave meal?”

  She laughed, a sound that Tony found most agreeable. He found himself grinning.

  “No, I made it,” she said. “I love to cook.”

  “Really? I tend to let the supermarkets make my meals. I just heat them up.”

  “Well, perhaps, I shall make you risotto, one day.”

  “I’d like that very much.”

  “Good. So would I.”

  “I was wondering when you’d like to go for that drink.”

  “Well, I am free tomorrow night, if you would like that.”

  “I would,” he said. “I’d like that very much. Umm, do you know any nice pubs?” He felt that the Chapel Arms was a bit too noisy for a quiet drink.

  “Well, would you like to eat as well as have a drink?”

  “Yes, that sounds great.”

  “Do you know the Grouse and Claret, near Bakewell?”

  The name sounded familiar. Had he driven past it on the way to Colleen’s house? “I can certainly find it.” Thank God for SatNavs.

  “Shall we say seven o’ clock tomorrow, then?”

  “Yes,” he said, feeling a nervous excitement run through him. He was pleased he’d called her now, delighted he’d thrown caution to the wind.

  “Excellent. I shall see you tomorrow at seven. Goodnight, Tony.”

  “Goodnight, Alina.”

  She hung up, and he put his phone on the bedside table, still grinning. Talking to her hadn’t been that hard, after all.

  He made himself a cup of tea and sat on the edge of the bed, using the remote to surf the channels on the TV. He didn’t want the doom and gloom of the News; he wanted something that matched his mood.

  He settled on a rom com that starred Jennifer Lopez and caught himself grinning like a Cheshire cat through most of it.

  He even began to think that maybe Dani was right, and he’d correctly guessed the scenario involving Penny Gibson and her dead husband. If that was the case, and evidence came to light to prove it, then they’d probably take the woman in for questioning tomorrow. Everything would fall into place, and the case would be closed.

  Tony was positive that nothing could go wrong.

  Chapter 21

  Rob woke up in the cellar. He sat up in the dark and shivered. He felt as if his body heat had leeched into the dirt floor. His flesh was numb, and his teeth began to chatter.

  Getting shakily to his feet, he picked up the knife that was lying on the floor at his feet and walked unsteadily to the steps. The door was open, but the kitchen was dark, so barely any light shone through the opening. He ascended the steps and, once he’d orientated himself in the dark kitchen, put the light on.

  Checking the time on the clock on the wall, he realised his chance to get home before Sonia and the kids was long gone. It was almost midnight.

  He checked his phone and found numerous missed calls and texts from Sonia. She was obviously livid. There was nothing he could do about that now.

  He’d blacked out again, this time for more than ten hours. Was there something wrong with his head?

  Despite having been unconscious for such a long time, he felt tired. It would be easy to go up to his dad’s bed and fall asleep, but he knew he had to go home and face the music. He wasn’t really all that bothered about what Sonia was going to say to him; he felt changed now. He wasn’t the man she’d married anymore; he’d felt the thrill of ending another human being’s life. That was a feeling that not many people would understand.

  His father would understand; he�
�d killed multiple times. And now, Rob knew why; the sense of elation he felt after killing Eric was like a drug coursing through his veins, but he knew it would eventually wear off and he’d have to kill again. It was who he was now.

  Besides, the collection in the cellar was missing two pieces, thanks to him, and he owed it to his father’s memory to replace them. And after that, he would increase the collection even further.

  Wasn’t that what his father had told him after he’d gone down to the cellar today? He closed his eyes and winced as a headache began to form. He couldn’t remember what his father had said.

  He knew it hadn’t really been his father speaking to him; the old man was buried in the cemetery in Hatherfield. What Rob had seen hadn’t been real.

  Or had it? He wasn’t sure anymore.

  One thing he was certain of, though, was that he had to act normal around Sonia and the kids, and also around his work colleagues and neighbours. If he was going to increase the collection, then he had to make sure he didn’t draw attention to himself. He had to pretend to be the same old Rob.

  That meant going home for a while.

  He was reluctant to leave the house, and especially the cellar, but it had to be done. Before he left, he got the washing out of the machine and hung it over the washing line his dad had put up in the laundry room. He couldn’t leave the damp clothes in the machine, because they’d stink.

  When that was done, he put his coat on and left the house.

  As he drove away in the Land Rover, he looked at the dark woods behind the house. Eric was there somewhere, hidden in the cold ground where no one would ever find him. Rob grinned at the thought. That would teach the old bastard not to stick his nose in where it didn’t belong. He’d never do that again.

  He chuckled to himself and turned the radio up, singing along with it as he drove to Hatherfield. The News came on, announcing that the police still had no leads on the murders of Daisy Riddle and Joanna Kirk. Rob laughed. He was untouchable. They’d never find him.

  When he got to Hatherfield, he turned the radio down and parked outside his house. There were no lights on. Sonia had work tomorrow, so she was probably in bed. Killing the engine, he slid out of the Land Rover and found his house key. He opened the front door and sneaked inside.

  The house was silent.

  Creeping upstairs, Rob felt like an intruder in his own home. He didn’t belong here; his place was at his new house, where the collection of girls waited to be uncovered from the cellar dirt. Where they waited to have more added to their number.

  He reminded himself that he had to keep up appearances so as not to arouse suspicion. For now, anyway. Maybe later, things would change.

  Sneaking into the bedroom, he saw Sonia in the bed, lying on her side, snoring lightly. She was fast off. Probably tired of waiting for him. He’d have a word with her in the morning, tell her he wasn’t feeling very well so he’d thought it best to stay away from her and the kids in case he was contagious. He’d also tell her the signal was almost non-existent in Miller’s Dale, and he hadn’t seen any of her texts or received her calls. Besides, he’d been in bed sleeping off his mystery illness. If he played this right, he might even get some sympathy.

  The thought made him want to laugh, but he stifled the impulse and quickly got undressed in the dark, sliding into the bed carefully so as not to disturb his wife.

  Despite the fact that his mind was whirling with plans and schemes, as soon as his head touched the pillow, he fell asleep.

  He woke up when he heard the curtains being drawn back and felt sunlight on his face. He sat up, opening his bleary eyes.

  Sonia stood at the foot of the bed. The look of anger on her face said it all, but she still decided to speak, anyway. “What the fuck, Rob?”

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “I mean I’ve been calling and calling you. You’ve been God knows where, and you didn’t think I’d be worried? I almost called the police.”

  He remembered his cover story. “I’ve been poorly, Sonia. I had to take myself to bed at my dad’s house, and there’s no reception out there.”

  “Don’t give me that rubbish! What’s happening to you, Rob? You’ve been ignoring me and the kids for the past few days. I had to get Emma to come over last night because I was working late. She asked where you were, you know, just casually. I told her you were at work as well. I couldn’t tell her the truth, could I? That I had no idea where you’d gone.”

  She paused, then added, “Is there another woman?”

  “What? No, don’t be ridiculous. Why would you think that?”

  “What am I supposed to think, Rob. You disappear at all hours; you ignore my phone calls. I’ve got no idea where you’ve been.”

  He got out of bed and began to get dressed. Coming home had obviously been a mistake. “You know exactly where I’ve been. At my dad’s house. Perhaps you should be a bit more compassionate; I’ve just had a loss.”

  She scoffed. “A loss? You barely knew your father. You hated him.”

  “Well, sometimes, when a person dies, you realise things about them. You wish you’d treated them differently when they were alive. You want to make them proud of you.”

  Sonia looked incredulous. “Proud of you? Do you think he’d be proud of you abandoning your wife and kids? You’d be a disappointment to him.”

  He turned on her. “What?”

  “You heard me. A disappointment.”

  He felt rage suddenly flare up inside him. One wall of their bedroom was taken up by a built-in wardrobe with mirrored doors. Rob picked up his bedside table and threw it in that direction. The corner of the wooden table hit one of the mirrors and shattered it.

  Sonia shrank back. “Rob, what the fuck are you doing?”

  He reached into his pocket and brought out the knife. “You think I’m a disappointment to him? Maybe I should stick you with this. See how much of a disappointment I’d be, then.”

  Her eyes went wide with shock and her face contorted into a mask of fear. Her eyes darted to the door, but she didn’t make run for it, probably sensing that if she did, he’d catch her easily.

  “Let’s talk about this,” she said, her voice a high-pitched whine. “You don’t want to do this, Rob.”

  “Don’t I?” he jabbed the air between them with the knife. “But you said I was a disappointment, Sonia. This could change that.”

  Her eyes were fixed to the blade as it glinted in the sunlight coming in through the window. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

  “What’s happening,” he said, “is that I’m doing what I was supposed to do my whole life. What he wanted me to do.”

  “You’re not making any sense.”

  He approached her slowly, ready to grab her if she made a run for it. His plan of keeping a low profile and not drawing attention to himself had gone to shit now, but that was Sonia’s fault, not his. She’d provoked him. What was he supposed to do? Let her get away with it? The old Rob might have done that, but not him. Not now.

  “Think of Sam and Olivia,” she said. Her pleading reminded him of the girl cowering in the shadowy corner of the cellar when he was a kid. It hadn’t ended well for her, and it wasn’t going to end well for Sonia, either.

  He tightened his grip on the knife and moved towards her.

  Then stopped.

  A tinny voice came from somewhere in the room. “999, which service do you require?”

  “Police,” Sonia said. She brought her phone out from behind her back and showed the screen to Rob. Three digits, 999, were displayed on the screen in stark white numerals.

  “Even if anything happens to me, they’ll trace the call,” she said quickly. “They’ll be coming here, Rob.”

  A man’s voice came from the phone. “Derbyshire police.”

  Rob ran. His plans had gone awry. He had things to do, and he couldn’t let Sonia and the police stop him now. Fl
eeing from the bedroom, he half-ran, half-slid down the stairs and out of the front door.

  The Land Rover waited, and as he got behind the wheel, he took a deep breath to calm himself before starting the engine.

  “Where are we going?” a voice asked from the passenger seat.

  He turned and saw his father sitting there. The old man had an expectant look on his face.

  “We’re going hunting,” Rob said. “I’m going to add a new girl to the collection.”

  His father smiled. It was the warmest smile he’d ever given Rob. “Good. Make me proud, son.”

  Chapter 22

  Tony’s optimism had lessened slightly, but he was still looking forward to the day ahead as he and Dani made their way to Miller’s Dale in her Land Rover. The DI had a determined look on her face as she drove, and Tony guessed that she was hell-bent on either making an arrest today, or at least cracking the case open. This was her opportunity to prove herself to Battle and the rest of the team; to show them that she hadn’t gone soft during her enforced absence.

  He himself didn’t have such lofty ambitions. He hoped they’d uncover some evidence that would put the team’s focus onto the correct individual, which at this time seemed to be Penny Gibson. That would be a step in the right direction because otherwise, Murder Force didn’t even have any suspects in this case.

  Gallow had put this team together to swoop in and solve high profile cases, but in this instance, they were flailing around in the dark.

  “Is it much farther?” he asked Dani.

  She glanced at the SatNav. “Five minutes.”

  It was early morning. They’d foregone breakfast at the B&B so they could get to the farmhouse where Penny Gibson lived before she went out for the day. The details they had on the woman were scant, and there was no employment information, but that didn’t necessarily mean she didn’t have some sort of local job. Their hope was to catch her before she went to it.

  “Did you sleep well?” Tony asked, to break the silence in the car.

  “Not really. I kept thinking about this morning. How about you?”