by Linda Coles
Chapter Ninety-Four
Later that morning, Rick, Duncan, Amanda and DS Carl Blake sat in the squad room of the police station in Windemere, beige plastic cups filled with machine coffee in front of each of them. It had been an eventful night, and even though neither detective had jurisdiction officially, Amanda had called Rick who’d in turn called Duncan, and they’d driven up that morning.
Ruth was still at the hotel with Stephanie. No one was quite sure exactly where Aaron had crept off to, but he was still in town; the police were not finished with him yet. Philippa, was somewhere in the back of the building, safe and secure in a police custody.
Carl Blake began the debrief. “Her full name is Philippa Jones, though she goes by During, her mother’s name. You may have heard of her father, Tony Jones, currently inside for his part in a dog-fighting ring in Kent.”
A bell rang in Amanda’s head. “He’s her father? Really?”
“Afraid so,” said Blake. “You know of him, then?”
“You could say that. He very famously got a slap on the wrist and a few lousy months inside for his part in that organised hellhole. I was there the night it got busted. It was one of the cruellest things I’ve ever seen, and thank god we intercepted before the actual fighting started. A lot of dogs were spared that night.” Amanda shuddered involuntarily.
“Well, he’s still inside, you’ll be pleased to know. Apparently, our prisoner says her dad’s sentence after what he did was one of the reasons she’s been doing what she has. That and ridding the country of big-game sport hunters. His sentence was way too light for her liking, and seeing her first victim with her kill set her off thinking that she could dish out stronger sentences. Which she did. Daddy dear had made her work with the dogs for pocket money when she was a kid, feeding them and cleaning them out, getting rid of the dead ones, that sort of thing. She’d hated every inch of the place, apparently, but couldn’t do much about it. Daddy had to be obeyed or else there would have been hell to pay. Her mother had taken her father’s side, not wanting to cause trouble in the house, I guess.”
“A bit extreme, don’t you think, doing what she’s been doing?”
“Probably, but who understands criminals’ reasons? I know I never will. She’s just another weirdo, in my book. The funny thing is, she’s so detached from it all, like she’s not the one that’s been committing the crimes, even though she is.”
“But she’s talking and still admitting it, then?”
“Yes, like the proverbial singing canary. Shown no remorse, no regrets. Knew she’d probably get caught at some point, but didn’t think it would be quite so soon. Apparently, it made her physically sick, the actual act. Didn’t enjoy it all. Can you believe that?”
“So that’s okay, then? She didn’t enjoy it?” Amanda was incredulous. She thought for a moment. “Hang on a minute. I’m betting she wasn’t physically sick in the victims’ toilets or sinks. There would have been traces left behind. We found a bag of vomit in a rubbish bin near the first victim’s home, and there was another not far from the second victim’s, left in a doorway.”
“I remember one of ours finding it. What are you getting at?” It was Rick’s turn to speak.
“Nothing, really. Just tying up loose ends in my head, and the two bags of vomit were still loose. Assuming they were both hers. A bit of a coincidence if not, wouldn’t you say? Proves she had a weak stomach for it but I doubt the judge will take it into account. Both took some considerable planning, premeditated for sure. She’ll go down for some time, a lot more than her dad did.” Thinking again, she asked, “Do we know yet how she got into their lives, all three of them?”
“Used social media to make friends and dig from there, though not with her second victim, Sebastian. He wasn’t particularly active like the other two, and he would have been much harder to infiltrate, I suspect—not your average man. She says she got into his laptop and pretended to be one of the girls he paid for regularly. Philippa intercepted the booking somehow and pretended to be her. That was the other woman you saw entering and leaving his building that night, the real escort.”
Rick picked it up. “Did she say if she still has his laptop? It was missing and he definitely had one, but it’s never surfaced.”
“I would doubt it ever will. She’s been real careful so far, apart from telling someone she was with a pilot up north, that is. No names, no definite locations. Could be wrong, though. It could be under her floorboards at home. No doubt the search will find it if it’s there.”
“Hmm, shame. I’d like to look into Sebastian Stevens a little more if I could, separately from this. And his search history might be useful, searches he particularly made from a computer at home rather than the office.” Amanda chewed her bottom lip and screwed her face up as she thought.
“What are you thinking, Amanda?” Duncan asked.
“It seems he had some rather eclectic tastes in the bedroom department, namely blood and knife play, if you’ve ever heard of it. Apparently, your partner makes little slits with a hellishly sharp knife, mainly into the thigh area, drawing blood. A type of BDSM practice which he was obviously into. Not sure you could pay me enough to have that done, and from what I can gather, he didn’t always pay. I know of at least one victim that suspects he drugged her and then took his knife to her, so there could possibly be more. And of course, if you don’t know what you’re doing, it can be horrendously dangerous. Cut a main artery by accident and it’s all over.”
“But the guy is dead. Why bother?”
“Because if he was part of something bigger, a dangerous fetish ring perhaps, he could afford to be selective about who he did it with and pay the women off easily, keeping them quiet. It was fifteen years ago for the victim I know of, so things may have progressed somewhat from there. Doing it with a willing partner, fair enough. But drugging someone for your own pleasure? That makes it a crime. His web history might help with that.”
Duncan scratched his head. “You thinking something on the dark web, then?”
“Maybe. A character like Sebastian Stevens wouldn’t get what he wanted from regular sources, though when we contact the agency where he hired the woman he was supposed to meet on the night of his death, they might be able to tell us more.” Amanda looked around at the blank faces of the other three men. “Look, call it women’s intuition if you like, but I sense there was something going on in the back of his life. Something we don’t fully know about yet, something that may hurt others, even though he’s gone. I’m just saying, humour me for now, let me ride with it for a while.”
Duncan, Rick and Carl all looked at one another and shrugged their shoulders in passive agreement. If Amanda wanted to go digging, it was no skin off their noses.
“That’s settled, then,” she said. “If you find anything, particularly a laptop, just let me know. That’s all I’m asking.”
“Thing is, if it is on the dark web, you’ll never find it via the browser history. It’s a lot trickier than simply typing in a URL. You’ll need something or someone else other than that. But go ahead, knock yourself out.” Rick was trying to be helpful and it set Amanda thinking. Maybe Ruth could give her some pointers before she made a fool of herself and went to computer forensics.
Changing the subject, she said, “Right, well, I’m off to get some lunch. Anyone care to join me before we head back?”
Rick and Duncan both stood, smiling at the thought of good food. And decent coffee.
Epilogue
“Shame it all turned to shit up there,” said Ruth. “I was quite looking forward to a weekend away with you after we’d dropped Stephanie at the cottage. But it wasn’t meant to be.” She stroked Amanda’s blonde hair; Amanda was using her thighs as a pillow as the two of them shared the sofa back at her place. “Maybe we can go again, just the two of us—walk the hills and look at the Lakes, do the touristy thing.”
“Hmm?”
“Tell me you heard all that, or were you miles away thinking about
work still?” Ruth was used to Amanda not always being present at quiet times like these. It was one of her foibles, but one that made her a decent detective. When a case went on without a result, it played on her mind, and Ruth was glad that the latest crime had all been wrapped up.
“I did, and to answer your question, which wasn’t actually a question I should add, yes, it was a shame. A walk in the fells would have been a welcome break, but it was a stroke of luck how we ended up solving the case at the same time—and that we were nearby. If Georgia hadn’t seen that blurry face shot on the CCTV footage, and noticed the scarf and overheard Rick’s vet comment, we’d probably still be hunting the hunter. She might have gone on to kill even more after Aaron. We got lucky, and Aaron certainly got away with his life. Perfect timing all round I’d say.”
“It can’t be nice dropping your friend in to the police, though. What if Georgia had been wrong? Imagine the mess—her friend being put under the microscope. It would have destroyed their friendship if she’d been wrong. It would be tough to ride that one out. She really is a brave one.”
“Let’s not talk about it anymore. It’s over with. I just hope the walking wounded can get their lives in some sort of order. Poor Stephanie has been through the wringer, and she’s decided to give him the boot. It will be tough on the boys, I expect, but the slime-ball couldn’t help himself. How can you come back from that and work it into something loving and trusting? You’d need a miracle. But to each their own. They may find a way in the future. Too early to tell. For now, they’re going to exist in separate lives.”
Ruth carried on stroking Amanda’s hair; the soothing tones of Sinatra played quietly in the background, and a breeze filtered through the open window. Summer was starting to make itself more comfortable, each day and evening warmer than the last. It was such a welcome time of year.
“That feels good. It’s so relaxing here with you, Ruth.” Amanda fell silent, reflecting. “That was another stroke of luck,” she said at last, “working on that dog-fighting case. If not for that, I’d never have met you.” Lifting her head up to face Ruth, she asked, “Do you remember the little terrier with his tan-coloured patch across one eye? Jack, he was called.”
“Of course I do. You’d just dropped him off back to his owners before coming round to my place for tea and toast, if I remember rightly. Why do you ask?”
“Just that he was the catalyst in us getting together, my excuse to call back round here. I knew you’d want to know he’d been returned safely, and yes, I could have called on the phone but, well, in person did the trick,” she said, smiling sheepishly.
Ruth bent forward and planted a kiss tenderly on the top of her head. Amanda sat up and turned properly to look up at her best friend. Their eyes locked.
Ruth spoke first. “Then we should ask him to be a page boy at our ceremony. He could wear a little bow tie around his neck.”
For a moment, neither woman said a word. Then Ruth spoke again, her voice deadly serious and full of love.
“Amanda Lacey, will you marry me?”
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Linda Coles
Published by Blue Banana
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She’s literally getting away with murder… Madeline Simpson is hot, sticky, and stressed to the max. She’s had it up to here with people treating her like dirt, and the hot flashes certainly aren’t helping. When her temper causes her to accidentally murder her landscaper, she expects to live out the rest of her menopause in prison. But the police have their hands full with a series of sexual assaults… Feeling above the law, Madeline aims to teach her biggest offenders a lesson. While her pranks take a dark and dangerous turn, Madeline begins to suspect the true identity of the serial sex offender. To catch the culprit, Madeline will have to go it alone… or risk unburying her deadly secrets.
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About the Author
Hi, I’m Linda Coles. Thanks for choosing this book, I really hope you enjoyed it and collect the following ones in the series. Great characters make a great read and I hope I’ve managed to create that for you.
Originally from the UK, I now live and work in beautiful New Zealand along with my hubby, 2 cats and 2 goats. My office sits by the edge of my vegetable garden, my very favourite authors are Harlan Coben and Karin Slaughter and apart from reading and writing, I get to run by the beach for pleasure.
If you find a moment, please do write an honest online review, they really do make such a difference to those choosing what book to buy next.
Enjoy! And tell your friends.
Thanks, Linda
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