Deadly Cry: An absolutely gripping crime thriller packed with suspense (Detective Kim Stone Crime Thiller Book 13)

by Angela Marsons

  That knowledge had stoked a fire of aggravation in his stomach, knowing they had an appointment to keep, that they were running out of time. And that’s how he felt now.

  Somehow, somewhere they had taken a wrong turn; despite all the clues and pointers, this dog was barking up the wrong tree.

  ‘We have to be right, Penn,’ Stacey said, reading his expression, ‘Nothing else makes any sense.’

  He knew Stacey was speaking with her brain and not with her instinct, but he couldn’t quieten his own.

  Maybe his gut was guiding him wrong this time. He remembered what Lynne had said to him recently. He sometimes didn’t see the things that were right in front of him.

  ‘Okay, Stace, let’s swap. You take upstairs and I’ll do down here. Second sweep with fresh eyes.’

  Stacey nodded her agreement.

  With another murder imminent and a six-year-old boy still missing, they had to try and find something.

  Ninety-Six

  ‘I’m not kidding, boss,’ Bryant said as they got in the car, ‘there was not one thing—’

  ‘I know. I believe you. I don’t think Andrew has hurt anyone. He’s the wrong sibling. If Ella is in some kind of twisted competition, it wouldn’t be with Andrew. He didn’t usurp her position; it would be with Steven, the next sibling born.’

  ‘Who also happens to be a sales manager for expensive holiday homes,’ Bryant noted as Kim took out her phone. Andrew had been kind enough to offer them his older brother’s phone number.

  ‘Straight to voicemail,’ she said as a low, deep voice kicked in. She ended the call.

  ‘Want me to head towards his?—’

  ‘No,’ Kim said, tapping the phone on her knee. Andrew had told them Steven lived on the outskirts of Bridgnorth. ‘Driving round trying to find siblings isn’t going to help us right now.’

  ‘But, guv, we might be on to something. We have to—’

  ‘I know, Bryant,’ she snapped. She too could feel the sand slipping through her fingers. They were running out of time. The response to the murder of Nicola Southall was imminent.

  ‘Maybe we have to stop focusing on the players and concentrate on the game,’ Kim said, picturing the wipe board back in the squad room.

  ‘Go on,’ Bryant said, switching off the engine and turning her way.

  ‘The crimes themselves come in pairs. The assault, the rape, the murder, they’re all pairs. Nicola Southall was the first of the pairing. How is our second killer going to respond? How are they going to match the challenge and in their own way surpass it?’

  ‘Another ex-soap star?’ Bryant asked.

  ‘Perhaps, but tracking one down and…’ Her words trailed away as the thoughts came thick and fast. ‘Not even a soap star, Bryant, but someone in the public eye. Maybe some other kind of celebrity?’

  Their eyes met as he appeared to catch up with her.

  ‘Tyra Brooks, the footballer’s mistress.’

  Kim checked her watch. ‘Who is due to arrive at the shopping centre in ten minutes’ time.’

  Bryant wasted not one minute in starting the engine and pulling away from the kerb.

  Ninety-Seven

  I can only take so much.

  There are so many parts of my body that hurt so bad, but no one listens.

  I’m telling tales. I’m exaggerating. I’m clumsy. I’m hurting myself. I’m a baby, but I’m not any of these things. Really, I’m not. Honest.

  I watch as the latest red welts turn to purple bruises and the lines of scratches gurgle with little bubbles of blood that harden and rise up from the skin.

  Every time it happens I hope it will be the last time. I pray that boredom will set in or another interest, fascination will come along. Sometimes I pray for death even though I don’t know what it is. Death happened to Nanna Helen and I was told that I would never see her again, that it was final, so maybe death needs to happen to make it stop.

  I wait for a long time but nothing changes.

  I am scared, but I make a plan.

  And so one night I stop myself from sleeping. I blink away my drooping eyelids and try to stop my body trembling in the dark. I have to make it better myself. I have to make it stop.

  I know the door will open when everyone has gone to sleep.

  It does and I am ready.

  I know it is time to fight back.

  Ninety-Eight

  ‘There are supposed to be two people here,’ Kim said as they approached the barrier to the service yard. The security officer was manning it alone.

  ‘Where’s the police officer?’ she asked, opening her window. It was her understanding that the constable who accompanied Lena Wiley would remain at the barrier to support the security officer.

  He shrugged. ‘Got called away. Ran down into the building.’

  ‘Shit, let us through,’ Kim demanded.

  Already, something was kicking off.

  ‘I’m under instruction—’

  ‘Mate, for your own safety, press that fucking button,’ she snarled.

  He did so and the barrier started to rise.

  ‘Listen, I ain’t taking the blame for—’

  Bryant cut off the security officer’s words as he drove underneath the barrier before it reached the upright position.

  ‘You trying to write off this car already?’ Kim asked, getting a closer look at the red and white striped pole than she would have liked.

  He ignored her and pulled up behind the West Mercia squad car that was parked right behind the car of Kate Sewell, Tyra Brooks’s agent. Damn, she’d been hoping that Tyra and her agent were running a few minutes late, but she guessed that Lena Wiley was pretty adept at keeping everyone on track.

  ‘You’re alone too?’ she asked the officer at the entrance to the service corridor. Both of these points were supposed to have been double manned. Leaving people alone to manage potentially dangerous situations went against every operational order she’d ever seen, both by the police and private security companies and was not what had been discussed and agreed at the INEPT meetings.

  Unless there was some kind of dire emergency.

  ‘Yeah, Darren got called away by the boss. Something to do with an abandoned kid found wandering the service corridors.’

  ‘Boy or girl?’ she asked, holding her breath.

  ‘Err… little boy, I think.’

  Kim glanced at Bryant who looked as confused as she felt.

  ‘Did you get a name?’

  He shook his head. ‘Just heard that a cleaner had found a little boy wandering around the corridors and everyone went running.’

  ‘Some kind of diversion, guv?’ Bryant asked as they entered the building and headed for the stairs.

  ‘Fucked if I know what’s going on,’ she answered. The thoughts were flying around her mind as they headed up the stairs. Had their killer held Archie to use as some kind of distraction? Was that why he’d been kept alive?

  Her heart was thumping as she knocked hard on the back door of the bookshop.

  The door was opened by a frazzled-looking shop assistant, anxiously clutching the lanyard around her neck.

  ‘Where’s the boy?’ Kim asked, showing her ID. She had many things to think about, but her overriding priority right now was identifying Archie and ensuring he was unharmed and safe.

  ‘He’s in the kid’s section. The police have been—’

  ‘Okay, thank you,’ Kim said, walking through the staff area and into the rear of the store.

  The shop had been closed ready for the book signing; only people purchasing the book would be allowed in to present it to the celebrity.

  As she walked through the centre of the store, Kim spied the boy sitting on a beanbag in the kiddie’s corner beside a staff member and a police officer on the other side.

  Her heart settled as a sense of relief washed over her. It was Archie, and other than his tear-stained cheeks, he appeared to be doing fine.

  ‘Go check on him while I track down our
celeb,’ she instructed her colleague. ‘Get one of the security officers with him and put in a call to Robyn. She needs to know he’s safe. Once you’ve done that, get centre security to start checking CCTV to see how he got into the service corridor.’

  Bryant nodded and headed over to the child.

  Although her heart had slowed down, her mind still raced ahead. It was obvious that whoever murdered Louise Webb-Harvey at Stevens Park had hung on to Archie. She had to believe that person was Noah – the person who had asked for her help – because the boy was still alive. He had listened.

  If that was true, then some part of him did not want to kill again. She had to make sure no one else lost their life.

  She spotted Kate Sewell at the front of the store amongst a few more staff members, but she couldn’t see Tyra Brooks anywhere.

  Kim was ten feet away from the crowd when her phone rang.

  It was Stacey, calling from the home of their prime suspect, Ella Nock.

  ‘Stace?’

  ‘Yeah, boss, we got a problem here.’

  Her heart thumped harder until she remembered that Archie was safe and well. Perhaps they’d found evidence that Archie had been there at some stage. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Ella Nock’s just got back from Asda, and she is not very happy at all with the hole where her door used to be.’

  What the hell was going on? Kim wondered as her thoughts went into overdrive. Their prime suspect was at home with her weekly groceries.

  ‘Stace, tell her to put a cardigan on and get yourself and Penn over to The Book Store in Halesowen. There’s all kinds of shit kicking off.’

  ‘Kid’s fine,’ Bryant said, appearing beside her. ‘One of Chris’s guys is with him, and centre security are already looking at footage.’

  Kim ended the call from her colleague as the spinning in her head grew worse.

  ‘Noah’s not Ella,’ Kim said, continuing her journey to the crowd of staff at the door.

  Her mouth dried as she got closer and realised the celebrity was missing.

  Her eyes fixed on Kate, the woman’s agent. How had the woman lost her client?

  ‘Kate, what the hell is going on here?’

  The woman’s face coloured and was quickly accompanied by a guilty expression.

  ‘What are you?—’

  ‘You haven’t realised you’re missing someone?’ Kim snapped. ‘Where the hell is Tyra Brooks?’

  Kate looked at her as though Kim had truly lost her mind.

  ‘Tyra’s out there walking the crowd. She insisted despite my—’

  ‘Let me see,’ Kim said, stepping to the front of the group.

  And there she was: about forty metres away, walking the long line of customers, shaking hands and smiling.

  Suddenly, the girl disappeared into the line and the line lost form. It coiled like a snake around the spot where Tyra had last been standing.

  ‘Shit, guv, she’s been pulled into the crowd,’ Bryant shouted, running out of the store.

  She didn’t bother to answer as a few things fell into place. She looked around and assessed the situation before she turned and ran in the opposite direction.

  Ninety-Nine

  Kim headed away from the commotion taking place at the front of the store because her gut was telling her that the real problem was going on elsewhere.

  She did a quick visual check on Archie as she headed back out the way she had come in. She was pleased to see him sucking on a lollipop and reading a book with the shop assistant, with a security officer just three feet away.

  She considered stopping to ask him questions, but her mind was telling her to forge ahead. None of the other murders had been lingered over and drawn out and she had no reason to think this would be any different. If she didn’t find Noah soon, another person was going to die.

  The second she’d seen Tyra amongst the crowds, she’d felt their entire theory crash down around her ears.

  And then she’d looked around to see who was missing, and she’d thought about the escalation.

  Their killer wasn’t interested in a kiss-and-tell celebrity. Yes, she was current, unlike the ex-soap star, but she wasn’t the most attractive target. Who better than someone who had been in the public eye and also held a senior, responsible position in the police force?

  Kim raced through the back door of the store and down the stairs to the officer at the entrance to the building.

  This was the last point where they’d been seen, and she’d noted the presence already of the West Mercia squad car.

  She had to find them as quickly as possible, as her gut told her their killer now had in his possession a police superintendent.

  One Hundred

  Bryant was surprised to see the guv wasn’t chasing behind him as he neared the baying group that had Tyra Brooks surrounded. Not that he needed her help to break up a scuffle. Security guards watching the crowd were heading towards her as well. Damn it, where had she gone now? He briefly considered turning back to find her, but both his instincts and his training told him to deal with what was right in front of him.

  ‘Let me through,’ Bryant called out, moving people aside to get to the centre of the biggest rugby scrum he’d ever seen.

  He turned to the officers who had come running.

  ‘You two, get back to your posts and you grab a paramedic from that corridor and then get on to your boss and get him up here.’

  He could do without anything else breaking out at another spot in the line.

  The remaining officer turned away to use his radio as Bryant began picking up the bodies. At the bottom was the crumpled, dishevelled figure of Tyra Brooks. Bryant reached down and pulled her to a standing position.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  She nodded and smiled as Kate appeared beside them. She glanced around the crowd, her gaze lingering on one male with short, blond hair and a stud earring.

  ‘Oh my god, Tyra, what happened?’ Kate asked, horrified.

  Bryant heard the concern in her voice, but he’d interviewed enough criminals in his career to be picking up something else there too.

  ‘I d-don’t know. I was just walking along the line, shaking hands when someone grabbed me and pulled me in.’

  Bryant saw a thin trail of blood travelling down her neck.

  ‘Let me take a look at that,’ he said, lifting her hair. A deep scratch an inch long was reddening behind her ear lobe. A paramedic arrived and instantly moved Tyra a few feet away to check her over.

  ‘Did anyone see who did this?’ Bryant said, addressing the crowd. ‘We have an injury.’

  He watched as the blond-haired boy tried to slink away.

  ‘Not so fast, fella. You seemed pretty close to the action. Did you see who did it?’

  He shook his head and reddened.

  ‘It’s nothing, officer.’ Kate said, pulling Tyra back towards them. ‘It’s just a scratch. You’re fine, aren’t you, Tyra?’

  ‘I th-think so,’ she said, smoothing her clothes down for the second time.

  ‘It’s just a scratch,’ the paramedic said. ‘I think she’s fine.’

  Kate nodded her agreement eagerly. ‘Of course she’s fine and I’m sure she wouldn’t want to press charges anyway. She needs to do what we came here to do.’

  Bryant was sensing a dynamic here that he didn’t like.

  He turned to Tyra. ‘You want the paramedic to check you?…’

  ‘I’m fine, honestly. But thank you.’

  Bryant was pleased to see the colour was returning to her face.

  ‘Okay, back into the store,’ he said to the two women before placing his hand on the young man’s shoulder.

  ‘And you can come along as well.’

  One Hundred One

  Kim retraced her steps back to the entrance to the building. The single security officer stood in the middle of the open double-doors.

  ‘Everything okay?’ he asked, covering his radio. She could hear a colleague of his calling for assistanc
e. ‘I daren’t leave my post,’ he said by way of explanation to her.

  ‘Do not budge from this spot,’ she said, frantically looking around. ‘Who was here fifteen minutes ago?’

  The superintendent must have been snatched right here during all the confusion.

  He shrugged. ‘Dunno. I was up at the barrier and there was all kinds of noise over the radio. I came down to see what was going on, by which time the area was deserted, so I stayed. Boss said this had to remain manned at all times, so I ain’t shifting even if Beyoncé herself comes walking through.’

  She turned a full circle and looked around again. Where the hell could she?…

  Her thoughts trailed away as her gaze rested on the door to the old staircase.

  Staircase 9.

  The lock was broken.

  ‘Shit,’ she said, pushing the door wide open.

  She took the stairs two at a time. The stairwell was bathed only in the emergency lighting that illuminated every twenty feet.

  There were doors on either side of the disused corridor, which was around seventy feet long and grew darker and more ominous as it came to the end.

  Kim moved along the corridor, slowly moving left and right to check that the padlocks to the doors were still intact.

  As well as checking the locks, she paused at each one, listening keenly for any sound from within. She closed her eyes for a second, concentrating her hearing above the low hum of distant voices as people shopped in the mall. Ambient music sounded from speakers located on the other side of the wall.

  As she neared the end of the corridor, she stepped into a dark corner not quite covered by the emergency lighting.

  ‘Damn,’ she cursed quietly when her foot met with a black rubbish bag that had clearly been dumped by someone. Plastic food containers spilled out into the corridor.

  Only two doors remained – neither had a lock – a cleaner’s room and an old plant room.

  She stood between the two doors and listened, blocking out every other sound around her.