‘Just a sec,’ Sharon called from behind the door. This was followed by the flush of the toilet and the taps being turned on.
Amy waited as she cleaned herself up, providing snippets of information on the case.
‘Thanks for coming so quickly.’ Sharon turned off the air-con as she rejoined Amy. ‘At least now I can go home.’
‘Sorry, no,’ Amy said. ‘The man we arrested didn’t kill Chesney. He was facilitating him.’ Amy watched Sharon stall. It was obvious this had taken a lot out of her. ‘New evidence has just come in. Tina, one of the girls being trafficked, is responsible for the men’s deaths.’
‘Oh . . .’ Sharon stared, her expression vacant. ‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘It’s tragic,’ Amy replied. ‘She was protecting the group. Which is why she fought back.’
‘Surely that can be taken into account?’ Sharon asked. ‘I mean, they’ve been through so much.’
‘Maybe, if the crimes weren’t premeditated. But it looks like she’ll be going to prison for a long time.’
Another tear trickled down Sharon’s face. But this time Amy knew it wasn’t for her husband, but his victims.
‘She was abused by her uncle when she was just thirteen,’ Amy continued. ‘She felt worthless. Suicidal. Then she got in with a group of people who made her feel that she belonged.’ Amy had obtained a full intelligence run-up. Her sympathies went to the girl whose life had fallen into a spiral of drugs and abuse. ‘They made her feel important for the first time in her life. But by the time she was sixteen, she was working on the streets.’
Sharon twisted the damp tissue between her fingers, punctuating Amy’s words with a sniff.
‘She was damaged,’ Amy continued. ‘Psychologically and physically. I don’t know how she found the strength to carry on.’ She glanced at Sharon. ‘But she did, and she made a life for herself. She thought she’d put it behind her.’
‘Until something happened to bring it all flooding back.’ Sharon’s words were barely a whisper as a sob caught in the back of her throat.
Amy nodded. ‘The person she married represented every man who had hurt her in the past. But she didn’t stop there. She downloaded an app and posed as a punter to keep track of other men like him.’
‘And then she killed them,’ Sharon continued. ‘Because it was all they deserved.’
‘She could have called the police,’ Amy said. ‘She had a choice.’
‘But she knew they’d get off, just like the ones who hurt her before.’ Sharon turned to Amy as an understanding passed between them. ‘We’re not talking about Tina, are we?’
‘No,’ Amy said, pocketing Sharon’s phone. ‘And you can’t let her take the blame.’
There was a reason Sharon had stayed in Clacton. She had planned to finish the next sex offender off. Amy had carried out background checks on many of the people involved, but Sharon’s history had really hit home. She was a medical professional, no stranger to administering drugs. Then her car number plate had pinged ANPR in each of the seaside resorts, and Amy had enough suspicion to bring her in.
‘Ask yourselves, why?’ Amy had told her team when this had all begun. ‘Why did it start with Chesney?’ And now she had her answer.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
From the monitor room, Amy listened in on Sharon’s confession. Sharon had put up no barriers since arriving in custody, and Steve Moss was doing a stellar job of interviewing her. If anything, Sharon seemed relieved to be getting things off her chest.
‘It wouldn’t surprise me if she has PTSD,’ Donovan said, joining Amy in the dimly lit room. When Sharon was booked into custody, her hotel room was searched. Syringes were found, along with enough poison to take down several more men. It was the shrubs in their garden that had caught Amy’s eye. Facebook pictures of a happy family living amongst plants with toxins so powerful they could kill. Beautiful but deadly, Sharon’s oleanders could debilitate a grown man without the toxin even showing up in his blood – unless you were looking for it. The symptoms of drowsiness, slowed heart rate and sudden weakness had given Sharon the edge. Upon the advice of her solicitor she gave a full confession. It was a prima facie case – open and shut.
‘She’s the first murderer that I’ve actually felt sorry for,’ Amy said. She had stretched the truth about Tina being responsible, but it was the push Sharon needed to confess. She committed her crimes to protect these girls, not to incriminate them. It was better for her if she handed herself in, which Amy had facilitated. Admitting her guilt could shave years off her sentence, and her history would be considered. But Sharon’s children would be grown by the time she was released, and regardless of the consequences, she had murdered four men. She knew the most effective way to kill, and was strong enough in stature to carry the murders out.
Had she had assistance? Amy wasn’t sure. She tuned back into the interview as Steve asked the question.
‘Nobody helped me,’ Sharon said, her arms folded over her chest. ‘Chesney was sloppy. He didn’t cover his tracks. But I did. I followed the bastards, getting to them before the kids arrived.’ She paused for breath. ‘Except for the one who got away. I thought I left him for dead.’
She was talking about Mr McCafferty, who had been taken to hospital when he’d come to on the shore.
‘So the kids had no involvement?’ Steve asked, his colleague taking notes. Each offence would be discussed at great length later on. But then there was April, who had argued with George Shaw on the night of his murder. Had she seen Sharon at work?
Spittle flew from Sharon’s mouth as she jabbed a finger in Steve’s direction. ‘Don’t you dare pin any of this on them. It was me. All me.’ For a second, Amy saw a flash of temper. A hatred that had lain dormant for years. Perhaps sending a male interviewer hadn’t been a good idea. But Steve was calm and methodical in his approach. Right now, he was the best officer for the job.
‘She must have taken Chesney’s mobile after she killed him,’ Amy said, remembering retrieving it as it fell from Sharon’s bed. By then, she had guessed as much. She turned towards Donovan. He was looking at her with something akin to amusement on his face. ‘What?’ She touched her mouth. ‘Have I got something on my teeth?’
‘How do you do it?’ He gestured with his hands. ‘How do you . . . I mean, all the leads pointed to it being those kids. Yet you went after Sharon. How did you know?’
Amy smiled, surprised by the question. It seemed perfectly obvious to her. ‘Remember when she asked you to find out if her husband was having an affair? Didn’t you think that was weird at the time? I mean, he died so unexpectedly. Her life had been turned upside down.’
‘I suppose . . .’ Donovan folded his arms.
‘Then she kept ringing the station, asking for updates. You know what they say about people who take too much interest in the case.’
‘But I didn’t see it that way.’ Donovan sounded exasperated now. ‘I had a completely different perspective.’
Amy shrugged. ‘It gave me enough justification to carry out some intelligence checks. Social care unearthed her backstory, then it made sense. She was trying to tell us about those girls all along.’ She glanced at the interview on her monitor; it appeared to be taking its course. ‘Then her licence plate flashed up in each of the locations . . . and of course, she was still in Clacton, which suggested unfinished work . . .’ Amy reeled off the list of leads which had brought her to the conclusion that Sharon was their suspect. She had kept the information close to her chest, for Sharon’s own safety if nothing else.
Donovan’s frown grew as he absorbed her explanation. ‘But you knew, deep down, before any of that. I remember you saying it to the team. “Start at the beginning,” you said. Intuitively, you knew, long before logic caught up.’
Amy snorted, waving the sentiment away. ‘It was teamwork, pure and simple. Hundreds of man hours narrowing it down to one viable suspect.’
‘You’re amazing, you know that?’ Donovan�
�s sudden laughter filled the air.
‘Don’t you start.’ Amy smiled. ‘And you’ve got more instinct than you give yourself credit for. Remember when you got Carla’s diary? You shoved it into your pocket when Bicks came into the room. Most people would have shared it. But you didn’t. You need to trust your instincts more often. Give them free rein.’ She pointed to the screen, where Sharon was going through each of the murders. ‘She’s lucky we got to her before Bicks did.’ Given his profession, Sergeant Bickerstaff hadn’t risked making an appearance at any of the rendezvous.
‘Mmm.’ Donovan’s smile faded. ‘It was safer for him to stay under the radar than risk getting caught. If the punters drowned, there were plenty more where they came from.’
‘You know, my last few cases ended with my neck being on the line.’ Amy paused to sip her coffee, which had grown tepid. ‘I came away bruised and battered. I almost died. But nothing has taken it out of me like this case. There’s no victory here. Not for anyone.’
‘There is for the children who’ve been taken into care.’ Donovan leaned on the table next to her.
‘They were already in care. They ran away, remember?’ Amy sighed as her words came out sharper than she’d meant. ‘Sorry. I’ll be glad when this is all over. What with Bicks and everything else . . .’
‘I know,’ Donovan replied. Bickerstaff was exactly where they wanted him, and officers had unearthed evidence that his huge house and lavish lifestyle had been paid for with the proceeds of crime. Had Bicks felt good about himself, mixing with the high rollers of the criminal underworld? Was his refusal to grass on his associates out of loyalty or fear? Had he simply got in over his head? More importantly, how could he kill one of his own? The aftershock of this case had spread through the station as officers tried to come to terms with it.
‘How could he kill Carla? He’s known her for years.’ Donovan was clearly on board Amy’s train of thought. His face soured at the memory. ‘He brought her husband in here to talk to us. He patted him on the back.’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘She was getting close to the truth. Perhaps he lured her to warn her off and she wouldn’t play ball.’
But Amy shook her head. ‘He knew she was a weak swimmer, which is why he arranged to meet her at the pier. He lured her there to kill her. Tipping her over the edge was the easiest way, and the suicides gave him a brilliant cover.’
‘Bastard,’ Donovan said. ‘I trusted him. I didn’t know him at all.’
An image of the teenagers floated into Amy’s mind. What would become of them now? She thought of Matty, who had spray-painted graffiti near each crime scene as a cry for help, and then of April, battered and bruised, and of Tina, who had fought to protect them as best she could. How many other people were involved? It had yet to hit the press, and the investigation would continue over the next year. Amy was happy to leave it in the hands of PSD. Right now, all she wanted was to wrap things up and go home.
But there was something ugly on the periphery. One more person who needed dealing with. The hardest thing about this betrayal was that it didn’t come from a stranger. It was someone Amy had come to know and trust.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Molly felt sick to the core. She should have been honest from the start. What started out as a small omission had rapidly snowballed, and she could not risk her place on the team. Now, she was in too deep. It was too late to tell her boss the truth. DI Winter had voiced her disgust after Bicks’s arrest, and she did not blame her. Dishonesty of any kind was not expected or condoned, regardless of the excuse. She had stressed it upon them since the start – if any of them were in trouble, they could come to her. But it was the lie that would catch Molly out. It had wrapped itself around her, making her feel that she could barely breathe. Clicking on her emails, she deleted those of no use and forwarded the rest to PSD. The case was in their hands now, and she could not wait to get out of here. There had been an unsettling feeling in the office ever since Sergeant Bickerstaff’s arrest. Was she next on the list of dishonest officers to be named and shamed? Because Winter knew something. Molly could see it in the way she narrowed her eyes as she gazed across her desk at the team.
Molly remembered the day she was interviewed for the role she had come to love.
‘Tell me,’ Winter had said, ‘what would make me think twice about taking you on?’
Quickly, Molly had regained her composure and said something about her high expectations, given she had come from a policing background. ‘I don’t take failure well,’ she’d said. ‘Which is something that might give you pause.’
The answer had impressed Winter, but it wasn’t the first that had sprung to Molly’s mind. Why hadn’t she told her the truth?
Molly’s heart picked up speed. She could not bear to be kicked off the team; it was much more than a job to her. It was a lifeline.
‘Cheer up, mate.’ Steve threw a scrunched-up ball of paper in her direction. ‘You look like someone’s pissed in your tea.’
‘I’m OK.’ Molly forced a smile.
But Steve was still staring at her from across the desk, his brow creased in concern. ‘Are you sure? Because you don’t seem yourself . . .’
‘I’m just tired,’ Molly added. ‘I’ll be glad when we can get back into a routine.’
But would she? Would she be working on this team again? Steve was about to reply when his desk phone rang. Saved by the bell. But not for long. Molly’s gaze flitted to Winter, who stood as DCI Donovan entered the room. His head bowed, Donovan surveyed the paperwork that Winter presented to him. Donovan stood with his hands on his hips, his face darkening as Amy spoke. Oh God, Molly thought. This is about me, isn’t it? They’ve found out. They know that I lied. Her heart sank as she caught their expressions. With Donovan it was utter incredulity; with Winter it was deep disappointment. Molly tried to swallow, but her mouth was bone dry. She stared down at her hands. They were shaking.
Next to her, Gary was on the phone, completely oblivious to what was going on. Steve was now in conversation about some casework he was wrapping up. Molly sat, glued to her seat as Donovan and Winter marched towards them.
They stood, waiting as Gary and Steve ended their calls. Walking into the room, Paddy joined them. He was flushed, the corners of his mouth turned down. Molly gazed from one to the other as they loomed over them.
‘I can’t tell you how it feels to have to come to a member of my own team and confront them like this.’ The room fell completely silent and Molly’s cheeks burnt as Paddy uttered the words in disgust. ‘To learn that one of my team is a bent copper sickens me.’
Amy’s face was grim. Molly’s mouth dropped open and for a second she forgot to breathe. No. This is wrong. This is all wrong. I’m not crooked! she wanted to scream, but she could not find the words. She glanced at Steve, but his eyes were on Gary as he sprang from his chair. The swivel chair was left spinning as he sprinted towards the door. What the hell was going on?
Molly’s gaze fell on the grim-faced uniformed officer as he appeared at the door. Behind him was Denny, from the Professional Standards Department. They weren’t coming for her; it was Gary they were after.
Marching over, Donovan took his arm. ‘You idiot!’ He shook him roughly. ‘How could you be so stupid? Have you any idea what you’ve done?’
Coming between them, Amy stood, her words soft murmurs as she talked Donovan down. Officers stood at their desks, open-mouthed. Phones were left unanswered. Tannoy announcements ignored. The world seemed to come to a juddering halt as the drama unfolded before them. Was there a second corrupt officer involved?
‘What’s happening?’ Steve whispered as he joined Molly’s side.
‘I . . . I don’t know.’ Molly cleared her throat. A shot of adrenalin was flooding her system, her limbs trembling so that she could barely stand. This couldn’t be happening. Not to Gary. They’d got it wrong. She wanted to cry out, to stop them. But her disbelief in the situation had stolen her words away. ‘Gary . . .’ s
he managed to utter, taking a step back when he met her gaze. In that second, his guilt was evident; his expression relayed his shame. His head bowed, he turned his gaze to the floor as the police caution was relayed. The most important words he had learnt when joining the police were now being used against him.
Had he been working in league with Bicks? She had picked up on his tension, on the whispered phone calls. But she’d put that down to his personal life, nothing else. She turned to the rest of the officers, shamelessly staring as events unfolded before them. ‘Show’s over!’ she shouted, in one last gesture to protect her friend. ‘How about we get back to work?’
She sat at her desk, tears pricking her eyes as Gary was led away. She could not carry on like this. They were due to leave Clacton tomorrow. She would speak to her DI in the morning. It was time to come clean.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Saturday 31 July
‘Morning, boss, I got you a cappuccino.’ Steve handed Amy the disposable cup.
‘Cheers,’ she said, a ghost of a smile on her lips. No doubt he was sucking up to her because he was concerned for his job. They all were. Things hadn’t felt right since Gary had been whisked away. He had come clean in interview, admitting the part he’d played. He’d had little choice, given the evidence stacked against him. Bicks was finger-pointing in an effort to shift the blame. The rest of Amy’s team would be interviewed when they returned to Notting Hill. Right now, Amy wanted to hear what Molly had to say before any more shit hit the fan. She pushed open the door of the witness interview room where Molly had asked to meet, hoping her day would not take a turn for the worse.
It was with a heavy heart that Amy had organised Gary’s arrest. Amy’s rule-bending came with good intentions, whereas Gary’s was fuelled by greed. He had happily accepted Bicks’s payouts – dirty money that originated from the criminal fraternity. Amy hoped for Gary’s sake that he was not too deeply involved. Prison was not the place for a young detective. Bicks might be able to survive it, but Gary would soon be out of his depth. Regardless, he had lost his place on her team.
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