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The Detective Deans Mystery Collection

Page 70

by James D Mortain

He shook his head.

  ‘What does it say?’ Sarah asked.

  Angie read from the file. ‘An elderly resident close to Torworthy College reported seeing a struggle involving a girl at the copse, just off Newton Road around the day Tammy went missing. The witness couldn’t describe anyone, couldn’t be sure of the date, and so, the police at the time put it down to playful banter between college mates and didn’t follow it up any further.’

  ‘She was wearing black ankle boots, with a kind of… studded design around the top,’ Deans said into his hands.

  Angie turned back a couple of pages, she stopped and gawped over at Deans. She glanced at Jeff and brought the file back over to Deans.

  ‘That’s incredible. Are you sure you didn’t read this?

  ‘I…’ Deans shook his head. ‘I just held it and read out the summary on the first page.’

  ‘Can you do it again?’ Angie asked.

  ‘I don’t know what just happened, but I know what I was seeing and feeling.’

  Jeff puffed out his cheeks. ‘What else did you see?’

  Deans shook his head. ‘I… um, I… I don’t know. The shoes. Jeans I suppose. No, wait – I could see her shins. She must have been wearing three-quarter length trousers or shorts or something?’

  Deans shrugged.

  Jeff peered at Angie for the answer. She ran a finger over the report, stopped after a second or two and read aloud, ‘Black three-quarter-length leggings.’

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ Jeff said loudly. ‘Is this for real?’

  Deans scratched behind his head and peeked at Jeff. ‘It is real,’ he whispered. ‘I wish it wasn’t. But it’s real.’

  ‘Can you see where they went? Can you see who abducted her? Can you describe the attacker?’

  Deans held up his hands. ‘I saw what I saw. Nothing more.’

  ‘Get it back,’ Jeff said snatching the file from Angie’s hand and thrusting it towards Deans. ‘Try again,’ he demanded.

  ‘Hey,’ Sarah said. ‘Take it easy. He’s said everything he knows.’

  Deans passed Sarah thank you with his eyes. Now he appreciated how Denise must have felt in those earlier days of the investigation when he was pushing so hard.

  ‘I’ll take the file with me, if that’s okay?’ Deans suggested. ‘I can’t make any promises, but maybe I can get more information in a less pressured environment.’

  Jeff and Angie looked at one another.

  ‘Of course,’ Angie said. ‘You’re one of us.’ She took the file back from Jeff and handed it to Deans. ‘Have it for as long as you need. Just keep it safe.’ She stared at Deans with the wonder of a child on their first outing to Santa’s Grotto. ‘Will you come back?’ she asked.

  Deans raised the file. ‘Obviously.’

  ‘No, I mean… would you be willing to come and look at some of the other cases we’ve got?’

  Deans noticed Sarah beaming, apparently with a degree of pride.

  ‘Who knows?’ he answered. ‘Who knows?’

  Chapter 45

  Sarah woke Deans from one of the deepest sleeps he had enjoyed for a long while. He was curled up in the passenger seat of the car.

  ‘Where are we?’ he asked.

  ‘Torworthy.’

  ‘What?’ He sat upright with a start and looked out of the window in disbelief. She was right.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said rubbing his eyes. ‘I feel absolutely shattered.’

  ‘That’s okay. I’m surprised my awful Adele singing didn’t wake you up.’

  Deans looked through the gap to the back seat. The file was still there.

  ‘Do you fancy a drink, or do you need to get home?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘What time is it?’

  Sarah looked at the dash. ‘Ten fifteen.’

  ‘Have you heard from the DCI?’

  ‘I got a text from Sergeant Jackson. We have a briefing at eight a.m.’

  Deans rubbed his face. ‘I think I’m going to pass,’ he said.

  ‘Okay. Just thought I’d ask.’

  Deans watched Sarah for a moment. ‘I’m really sorry,’ he said.

  ‘Stop. You’re entitled to sleep.’

  ‘No. I mean for not trusting you – for hurting you.’

  Sarah didn’t say anything and looked directly ahead through the windscreen.

  ‘It’s not how I feel now. I just want you to know that.’

  ‘Well, you could say sorry with a large glass of wine,’ she grinned.

  Deans thought about it for a moment and scratched a sudden, intense itch on the side of his nose, but instead of wine, he was thinking about devouring the Tammy O’Shea case file.

  ‘Not tonight,’ he said. ‘But I’ll definitely get you one soon. I promise.’

  ‘Fine. I don’t feel offended,’ she joked. ‘Do you want me to drop you home with Denise?’

  ‘Yeah. That’ll be good. Thanks.’

  ‘You really can do that stuff, can’t you?’ Sarah said.

  Deans lowered his head and nodded.

  ‘How?’

  ‘I really don’t know.’

  ‘Have you always had it… the ability, I mean?’

  ‘No,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘When did it start?’

  Deans clenched his jaw. ‘I’m not sure. Since the train crash, maybe before. Uh, I don’t know?’

  ‘How does it work?’

  Deans furled his brow. ‘Beats me.’

  ‘Okay, how did you receive that information about Tammy?’

  ‘I picked up the papers and saw it in my head, like daydreaming, I suppose. It just happened. He stopped himself and covered his mouth with a hand. That wasn’t how it happened.

  ‘Right, shall we get you back then? I need a drink even if you don’t.’ Sarah chuckled. ‘I still can’t believe I’m working with The Angel Detective.’

  Deans let himself inside with the spare key hidden beneath a stone at the front of the house. It was a wise move for Denise to allow him to come and go, now that the investigation was at full tilt. Denise was in bed and although Deans had promised not to disturb her during his late returns, he found himself tapping on her bedroom door.

  She opened the door a crack and glowered at him.

  ‘Denise, I’m sorry,’ he said looking at his watch. ‘It’s only eleven-thirty.’

  ‘I know what time it is.’ She wrapped her fluffy white dressing gown around her body and pulled it tight with a bow at the side. She didn’t come out of the room, but waited for Deans to speak.

  ‘Something has happened to me,’ he said uneasily.

  ‘Something?’

  ‘Another connection. To a different person… a dead person.’

  ‘How did it happen?’

  ‘I asked it to happen. I welcomed it.’

  Denise widened the gap in the door and stepped out into the hallway. She gave a tut and looked up at Deans. ‘I think you’d better tell me what happened.’ She walked through to the kitchen and put on the kettle.

  She noticed the case file on the dinner table. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It’s a cold case file on the girl I connected with.’

  Denise went across, but kept her distance from the thick buff coloured file.

  ‘They had others, but this one kept drawing me in.’

  ‘She’s ready to be found,’ Denise said looking at the name on the front cover.

  ‘I think she could be one of the Bone Hill victims,’ Deans said.

  Denise nodded agreement. ‘Tell me about the connection?’

  ‘I asked something like “what’s your story?”, as I held the file in my hands. Next thing, it was like seeing through Tammy’s eyes even though I could see everything else around me in the room.’

  Denise cocked her head. ‘And?’

  ‘I saw her abduction.’

  ‘In how much detail?’

  ‘I could see her feet. The pavement she was taken from. The grass she was dragged over. I could see the silver s
tuds in her boots.’

  ‘What about sounds?’

  ‘I don’t know. There was noise around me in the office.’

  ‘Smells?’

  Deans shrugged. ‘Only Maria’s… like there always is, when…’

  The boiling kettle clicked-off and simmered away to silence.

  ‘Do you want to try again?’ Denise asked.

  Deans glanced at the file. He did, but he was also scared of what he was going to see.

  ‘It’s okay, I’ll be with you, in case.’

  ‘In case what?’

  ‘She’s come to you for a reason. The time is right. Don’t worry.’

  ‘Where should we do it?’

  ‘Right here,’ Denise said, pulling a chair out from the table and taking a seat.

  Deans came alongside without taking his eyes away from the file. ‘Should I sit down or stand up?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. If she wants to reconnect with you it won’t make a difference where you are – you just have to be ready.’

  ‘For what?’

  Denise blinked slowly. ‘Everything.’

  Deans moistened his lips and opened the file cover.

  ‘Is there a photo?’ Denise asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Use that.’

  Deans took the A4 printed photograph in his hand and stared at Tammy’s face.

  ‘Now ask yourself what you want to know from Tammy,’ Denise said. ‘You just need to ask the right questions.’

  Deans looked between the file and Denise. ‘Just like that?’

  ‘Just like that.’

  He scratched an itch over his eye and hesitated.

  ‘She probably won’t tell you exactly what you ask, but she will show you all you need to know. The rest will be up to you to interpret.’

  Deans held the page firmly between his fingers. His hands were shaking. He glanced one more time at Denise and then concentrated on the photograph.

  Tammy, I want to help you. Were you murdered? A taste of bubblegum came into his mouth. He rolled his tongue around his teeth and swallowed the fruit flavoured saliva. He looked at Denise. ‘I think I’ve got her.’

  Denise flashed her eyes and gestured with her hand for him to continue.

  Tammy, do you know who killed you? Deans waited, but nothing happened. Tammy, was the person who killed you known to you?

  He looked up at the blackened sky. He was lying on his back and large drops of cold rain were falling onto his face. He tried to shield his eyes from the splashes, but could not move his arms, which were wide out to the sides. He was no longer in the room with Denise. He was at this other place and the connection was far more intense than the first time around. He tugged with all his might to release his hands and could feel blood pulsing in his neck as his heart pounded with terror. He heard noises coming from behind. The sound of footsteps on snapping twigs forced his eyes to pop wide open. He tried to tilt his head backwards but the soggy ground beneath the back of his head restricted his movement. He looked quickly left and then right and a lump of dread built in his throat. He could see trees above and around him, lots of them – familiar and horrifying. And then he heard it, a voice he recognised as several black masked faces loomed into view.

  He came to with Denise crouching before him. The photograph of Tammy was face down on the table. Denise held both of his hands in hers and she was soothing him with calming words.

  Deans blew long and slow controlled breaths until he was feeling less light-headed.

  Denise handed him a tall glass of water and Deans took it with a quivering hand.

  ‘Just take it easy,’ she said. ‘It looks like you had another strong connection.’

  Deans nodded and took several gulps of water.

  ‘Did you get what you needed?’ she asked him.

  Deans clamped his jaw and narrowed his eyes. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen everything I need.’

  Chapter 46

  The DCI had an energy about her that was different than before. The room gradually filled as the team took their seats. Deans was seated alongside Sarah on the front row, where they had been sitting patiently for the last eleven minutes. Jackson came in with one of the uniformed inspectors and gave Deans a once over as he passed and took a seat somewhere behind.

  ‘Right, are we all here?’ the DCI asked.

  Deans had always found that a strange question at this type of meeting. How could you answer if you weren’t there?

  ‘Good morning, everyone,’ the DCI said. ‘Today is going to be full on. I warn you now so that you can inform loved ones that you may not be home tonight.’

  Sarah nudged Deans in the arm with her elbow.

  ‘I can confirm that we have a third fingerprint hit on the spade seized from Bone Hill. It belongs to Scott Parsons.’

  Scotty? I knew it!

  ‘This morning a team from support group will be executing a raid on the last known property occupied by Parsons. He will be arrested on suspicion of conspiracy to commit murder on Archie Rowland, Annie Rowland, and Maria Deans.’

  Deans rubbed the side of his nose. He felt the room bearing down upon him.

  ‘Support Group are already prepped and awaiting a team to join them after this briefing.’ The DCI raised a hand and lowered it slowly, like she was dampening somebody’s attempt to interrupt. ‘I have already decided who that team will be, and Detective Gold and Detective Deans will attend the address to oversee the arrest and subsequent search of the property.’

  ‘I’ve said it before, Ma’am—’ a voice came from the back of the room.

  ‘And I’ve made my decision,’ she glowered back.

  Deans raised his hand.

  ‘Yes, Detective Deans’ the DCI said.

  ‘Ma’am, I think Parsons should also be arrested in relation to the Amy Poole murder.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘He was the last person to see her alive. He plied her with drink and took away her inhibitions so that Ash Babbage could abduct her.’

  ‘Do we have evidence to this effect?’

  ‘We would have, Ma’am, if the statement had been taken. I have a PDA entry taken at the time I spoke to Scotty. It’s unsigned, but it is a contemporaneous note.’

  ‘Fine. What’s done is done. We have reasonable grounds to suspect involvement, so yes; we will also arrest Parsons for the murder of Amy Poole. The custody unit is already on standby and will be cleared out for our prisoners only.’

  ‘Prisoners?’ a voice asked from the back of the room.

  ‘Yes, prisoners.’ The DCI caught Deans’ eye. ‘We must keep our options open and our wits about us. Right, Gold and Deans see me afterwards and I’ll brief you about the Section Eighteen. Any other questions?’

  The room was muffled in sound, but drenched in thought.

  ‘Sergeant Jackson, see me afterwards as well please.’

  ‘Let’s go through here,’ the DCI said, taking Deans and Sarah into the small interview room, having already instructed Jackson to wait for her in the CID office.

  They all remained standing and the DCI closed the door and spoke with dampened tones.

  ‘I had a call from Jeff Underhill this morning. Sounds like you had an eventful evening.’

  ‘Yes, Ma’am,’ Sarah said.

  ‘We are fast-tracking the DNA of Tammy O’Shea against the skulls we’ve recovered. If she is there, then…’ She looked at Deans. ‘This has to stay between us, okay. Nobody else is to know at this stage. Andrew, I don’t want you being treated like a side show.’

  Deans nodded. ‘I appreciate that, Ma’am.’

  ‘That’s why you must search Parsons’ property. You can do things nobody else can.’

  Deans pinched his bottom lip between his teeth.

  ‘You want to say something?’

  Deans stroked his forehead with a fingertip.

  ‘It’s okay. Just come out with it,’ the boss said.

  ‘I think we should arrest Sergeant Jackson.’


  The DCI narrowed her eyes and slid them towards Gold. ‘And if the media finds out?’ she said. ‘This is a circus as it is.’

  ‘Then the public will know we are being transparent with our investigation. After all, it’s the public who need protecting.’

  Deans could see the conflict in the boss’s face.

  ‘He was texting somebody at the end of the briefing,’ the DCI said.

  Deans suddenly felt sick to his stomach. ‘Where are the support group?’ he quickly asked.

  ‘They are on standby about a mile from the property waiting for you and Gold to join them.’

  ‘Tell them to go in now. It has to be now. Jackson was tipping Parsons off about the raid.’

  The DCI didn’t need further encouragement and immediately phoned the support group skipper.

  ‘Right, you’d better get going,’ she said. ‘It’s happening.’

  ‘What about Jackson?’ Deans asked.

  ‘Don’t worry about Jackson. Leave him to me.’

  Chapter 47

  The police radio was full of chatter as they drove towards Parsons’ address. They were on a secure channel for the operation, but talk had been non-stop since the support group went in. Parsons had already been arrested, which hadn’t gone down well with his housemate who tried to fight the remaining police officers off with a machete. Fifty thousand volts from a Taser gun had done the trick and, thankfully, none of the officers had been badly injured.

  As Deans and Sarah arrived, a prisoner transport unit was in the process of taking the angry housemate away. Scott Parsons was staying, as was the way with an arrest and search of a property in these circumstances. Something like this would also be video recorded, along with recordings from the officer’s own body-cams, to prove that nothing had been ‘planted’.

  Deans and Sarah met the skipper in the living room. Scotty was sitting on the sofa with a large officer sat on either side and his hands cuffed half way up his back.

  ‘Any significant statements?’ Deans asked.

  ‘No. He’s not said a word.’

  ‘Where have you been so far?’ Deans asked the support group sergeant.

  ‘Just this room and the hallway, when matey-boy wanted to play.’

 

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