The Liar's House: An absolutely gripping thriller with a fantastic twist (Detective Gina Harte Book 4)

by Carla Kovach

  The other pedestrian was probably walking with innocent intentions, maybe leaving a friend’s house to go home. She held her breath as she scurried along the path, aiming for the bright yellow street lamp that shone in the distance.

  Her mind kept telling her to glance back and say good evening, breaking the silence between the two strangers in the night. Then she might realise how silly she was being.

  ‘Ouch,’ she yelled as a piece of jagged stone wedged itself in her fleshy heel. She hopped towards the fence and leaned on it. The footsteps continued until the stranger stopped behind her. His warm breath tickled her hot neck and she felt a tremble start at her knees before spreading through her whole body. He was no innocent stranger just leaving a friend’s house. His presence felt menacing. He hadn’t spoken a word even though she whimpered in pain. As she held her breath, she could hear him breathing, calmly in and out.

  Adrenaline fired up from within. She gasped as she darted for the orange light but it was too late. He swiftly caught her, gripping her around the waist as he dropped his bag to the floor. She went to scream but he placed his large hand over her mouth and nose as he dragged her back into the darkness, the skin on her feet peeling off as flesh scraped along pavement. She glanced back. He placed his finger on his lips and moved his hand slowly away from her mouth.

  ‘You?’ she asked with a quivering voice. Gasping for breath, she opened her mouth to yell again. He brought a gloved hand swiftly back over her lips, supressing her scream.

  Fight, she needed to get him off her. She opened her mouth and tried to sink her teeth into his glove but he was wise to what she was trying to do. He beat her around the side of the head, knocking her slightly senseless as he pulled a strip of plastic sheeting from the bag. Speckles filled her vision as she tried to refocus on the moon, honing in on the only light she could see. With his free arm, he pinned her to the floor using his heavy body to keep her fixed in place.

  As she tried to release her hands and grab at his clothing, her thoughts flashed to her daughter. All she wanted to do was go home, forget that night and be with Lilly in her jungle-themed bedroom, just mother and daughter. She wanted to breathe in her daughter’s smell, stroke her soft wavy hair and read her a story. She just wanted them all to be exactly as they were a few weeks ago. Okay, things hadn’t been perfect, but perfect doesn’t really exist, she knew that.

  Freeing a hand, she wriggled underneath him, grabbing the bottom of a garden gate to pull her body from under his. He leaned up, poised to attack. ‘Stop moving, I don’t want to have to hurt you, but you’re coming with me,’ he spat.

  She wasn’t going anywhere with him. She knew he’d kill her. As she opened her mouth to scream, he brought the mallet swiftly down onto her head, pounding through her fleshy cheek and nose. As she tried to call out, blood spurted from her nose and flooded the back of her throat. Letting go of the bottom of the fence, she reached up and tried to poke her fingers into his face, missing as he moved aside. He loosely lay a sheet of plastic over her head as he leaned back and brought the mallet down again. It was then that the moon disappeared, along with the stars and the smell of dampness in the air. Through closed eyelids, she heard a click followed by a flash of light.

  A tear slid down her face as she struggled to take her final breath.

  Two

  Detective Gina Harte listened to the man’s gentle snoring. She hadn’t told him he could stay for the night. The longer he lay there, the more she wanted him to go home. Her fingers itched to push him out of her bed and tell him to leave. As she lay there under the quilt cover, naked and irritable, she stared around the dark room. Time ticked on. Before she knew it, she’d be back at the station having had no sleep. She checked her phone. It was almost one in the morning.

  The man stirred and reached across her breasts as he snuggled in closer. This was too cosy for her. She didn’t want to spoon in bed with some stranger. ‘Hey,’ she said as she shook him gently.

  He lifted his hand and wiped his eyes. ‘I must have fallen asleep, sorry. I tell you something, your bed is comfortable. It’s soft and warm, just like you.’ He reached over, stroking her hair as he went to kiss her. She turned away, receiving his kiss on the side of her head. He began kissing her neck and she felt him harden beneath the quilt. It wasn’t happening again, not with him.

  ‘I think you should go,’ she whispered. He continued to caress her, his hands moving further down.

  ‘You’re so hot.’

  As he tried to crawl on top of her, she pushed hard. Turning on the bedside lamp, she watched as he grasped at the quilt, trying to stop himself from falling over the edge of the mattress. ‘Whoa. You should have just said something. No need to pull a stunt like that on me. Although, it was rather erotic. I like a woman who can fling me halfway across a bedroom.’

  ‘I did say something. I said, I think you should go. You were too busy listening to your penis to hear me.’

  He slipped out of the bed and grabbed his jeans from the floor. ‘Sorry, I genuinely didn’t hear. Anyway, I thought we had a great time last night and I didn’t hear you complaining then.’

  He may have had a great time but Gina certainly hadn’t. He didn’t quite do it for her and she doubted a second run would be any different. ‘I’m sorry. I just don’t do stay overs. You know how it is. I need my space.’ That wasn’t entirely true. No one had compared to her boss, the department DCI, Chris Briggs. Out of the three lovers she’d encountered since subscribing to Tinder, not one had done it for her.

  ‘Get out more. Try it, you might actually have a good time,’ Jacob had said to her as he showed her all the women he’d been paired with. Watching him swipe had almost given her hope that it could work and, to a degree, Jacob had been successful with the matches, at least on a casual basis. She’d laughed it off while in his company, even pushed the notion to the back of her head, but the winter had been lonely. She barely saw her daughter and granddaughter, and, after spending Christmas and New Year alone, she vowed to go out and look for some company. Briggs appeared to have moved on, accepting numerous dates, none seeming serious. She had to make the same effort. Her thoughts turned to Briggs, her superior and the man she’d had a brief but passionate affair with. Keeping their relationship a secret had become burdensome on both of them, especially Gina.

  As her latest Tinder match slipped his jumper over his head, he paused and looked across at her. ‘Is it something I said, or did? I really like you and I thought—’

  ‘Look, you didn’t do anything wrong. We had a fun date. Dinner was good and we had a laugh. That’s where it ends. Thank you, err…’ She clicked her fingers as if trying to remember his name. His playful expression turned into an overemphasised frown.

  ‘Rex. My name is Rex, Gina. You really are something.’ He lifted the pile of clothing in the corner of her bedroom and began throwing her crumpled shirts and trousers across the room while he searched for his missing shoe. ‘Bloody hell. I can’t find my other shoe.’

  Gina slipped on her dressing gown as she stepped out of bed. ‘Rex, I didn’t mean to give you false hope. You’re a decent guy and—’ The sound of her mobile phone ringing and vibrating across the bedside table interrupted her mid-sentence. ‘DI Harte.’ She paused as she listened to DS Jacob Driscoll.

  ‘DI, no way! Where the hell is my shoe?’ Rex asked as he began to search under the bed.

  ‘Company, guv?’ Jacob asked.

  ‘Button it, Driscoll. I’ll be there within the hour.’ She ended the call and grabbed a pair of black trousers from the wardrobe. ‘You’re going to have to leave now. I have to go to work.’

  He stood, holding the shoe in his hand, his grey-peppered brown hair stuck up in tufts at the back of his head, resembling a pineapple. ‘You’re bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired. I didn’t know you were a detective inspector.’

  ‘I don’t give everything away on a first date.’ She buttoned up her shirt, stood at the bedroom door and pushed it open,
waiting for him to leave.

  ‘Will I hear from you? I’d like to see you again. Call me.’

  She followed him down the stairs, rushing him along. A major crime scene awaited her attention and she didn’t have time to flirt or go along with any form of small talk with a man she’d only met a few hours ago.

  ‘We’ll see,’ she replied with a smile as she pushed him out of the front door, slamming it closed. A few minutes later she heard his car revving up, then he drove away. ‘Although, I probably won’t,’ she said as she ran back up the stairs. She had a couple of minutes to sort out her straggly hair, have a quick wash and get to the crime scene.

  Three

  ‘Ah, DI Harte. Follow me and stick to the stepping plates,’ Bernard, the crime scene manager said as he led her along the back path, the onset of light rain beginning to seep through his white forensics suit. She peeked through a gap in one of the fences. The houses were set a long way back from the path which would have given their perpetrator a safe distance to attack the woman, far away from the sleeping inhabitants. Lights were still being switched on as the residents realised something was happening. One of the officers had probably started knocking on doors to see if anyone in the houses had witnessed anything.

  At the far end of the path, blue lights continued to flash even though the vehicles were now stationary. She heard a back door open and smelled smoke travelling in the air. The curtain-twitchers would be out in force within minutes, all taking to Facebook and Twitter, trying to find out what was happening.

  She tucked her creased shirt into the back of her trousers and pulled an elastic band from her pocket, tying her damp frizzy hair into a loose ponytail. Her mind flashed back to the mess she’d left at home. She was sure that Rex had got the hint and wouldn’t contact her again. She was also certain that she didn’t want to repeat the experience. Loneliness now seemed to be the favourable option to a string of meaningless and unsatisfying encounters.

  The stepping plates had been positioned on a small strip of grass that divided the pavement and a thick mass of tangled shrubs and trees. Beyond the trees, all she could hear was the sound of an occasional late night lorry, trundling along the road, heading for the nearby industrial estate. She almost burst into a jog trying to keep up with Bernard. His height and gangly-legged frame made him look like he was walking at a leisurely pace. Each of his steps equalled three of Gina’s.

  In the distance, she watched as the crime scene crew set up portable lighting and another CSI began to erect a tent, a bit late for the rain that was now coming down. Keith, Bernard’s sidekick, was making a few notes in his pad as he circled the body. Their assistant, Jennifer, snapped away, taking photos of everything. The light cast from the portable lamps flickered as insects danced in front of it. Gina lifted the inner cordon and entered the scene. Keith passed her a crime scene suit, which she quickly slipped on over her clothing, followed by gloves and shoe covers.

  She gazed down at the corpse. Cheek and nose smashed to a pulp, hair entangled in blood and graze marks over her legs. The straight, dark-coloured dress the victim had been wearing had ruffled up to her waist but her underwear seemed to be intact. She had no shoes on. Gina scanned the scene and spotted one of her shoes against a garden fence and the other a little distance away from it. Stilettos. She noticed the woman’s wedding ring. Someone had to be missing her. Gina closed her eyes, trying to divert her focus away from the mess that was the woman’s face, but closing her eyes hadn’t made it any easier.

  ‘Alright, guv?’ DS Jacob Driscoll asked as he approached from behind and started putting on his crime scene suit.

  ‘I’ve been better. Whoever did this is an animal.’

  ‘That would be unfair to animals, guv.’

  ‘You’re not wrong. I didn’t see you pull up when I did.’ Gina brushed a stray hair into her hood as Jacob zipped his suit up.

  ‘I parked the other end of the path, came in the other way. You were on another planet when I walked down.’

  ‘Yeah. For a moment, I hoped I was, but no. Some earthly being has committed this atrocity and it is down to us to get them.’ Gina swallowed and looked away. ‘Any witnesses?’

  Jacob glanced back up the path and pointed. ‘A woman who was taking her dog for its last walk of the night found the body.’

  Gina registered the woman standing with her dog at the side of the road with PC Smith. ‘Great. We’ll catch up with her in a minute.’

  ‘I’d definitely give it a minute. When I passed she was heaving in the gutter. I can see why.’ Jacob stared at the body then glanced away, shaking his head.

  Bernard said a few words to the crime scene team and headed back over.

  ‘Bernard, what can you tell me from your initial observations?’

  He scratched his beard cover and shifted his gaze to hers. ‘She has been bludgeoned with a flat-ended instrument, at a guess, I would say a hammer or mallet. Her body had been dragged along the pavement. As you can see, the skin on her legs and feet has been scraped off and our initial tests show blood on the pavement coming from that direction.’ Gina glanced in the direction, noting that an alleyway led onto the path a short distance back. The rain seemed to ease off a little before stopping altogether. ‘She also seems to be missing a cutting of hair. It was a neat cut, done with sharp scissors. She is missing a fingernail too. We will continue searching but so far, this is all we have. We only set up a short while before you came.’

  ‘Any thoughts on time of death?’

  ‘On first inspection, it happened no longer than two hours ago.’

  ‘Did she have on her person anything that can help us to identify her?’ Gina asked.

  ‘Not that we know of. Her jacket pockets have been checked. The contents have been bagged. There was just a set of keys, that’s all. Oh, you can’t quite see from the angle she’s positioned in, but she has a small faded butterfly tattoo on her ankle. It looks like she’s had at least one session of laser removal but not recently.’

  Gina felt a shiver prickling on the back of her neck as she imagined the scene. Closing her eyes, she tried to picture the sequence of events unfolding. The woman would have been walking in heels, maybe from a night out or from a friend’s house. Maybe she’d been on a date. There were no pubs or clubs close by. As she walked in the dark, had she heard someone following her or was she with her attacker? Maybe her attacker walked her home. Maybe a stranger had seen her walking alone and followed her, seizing the opportunity to attack. A weapon was used. Did the attacker have this on their person? If so, it wouldn’t have been a spontaneous attack. Why this woman? She needed to know who lay before her. A crime scene investigator nudged her out of the way as he finished erecting the tent, finally covering the body from the public’s prying eyes. She was certain that none of them really wanted to see what had happened on their own doorsteps.

  ‘Right, let’s go and speak to our witness.’ Jacob pulled his hood down as he left the inner cordon and led her over to the stepping plates.

  The witness looked to be in her early forties. She leaned against the wall of the end house, her greyhound patiently standing beside her, oblivious to its owner’s suffering. PC Smith met Gina and Jacob a short distance from the shocked-looking woman. ‘Alright, guv. She’s not doing too well. Paramedics have checked her over and she’s in shock. She’s slowly coming too, but she’s not good. She lives in one of the flats just down the road caring for her sick mother, so we’ve sent an officer over to sit with her mother while we get a statement. Also, our officers are knocking on doors, appealing for witnesses.’

  Gina glanced over and saw a paramedic sitting the woman in a wheelchair. Her sweaty hair and glassy eyes showed Gina exactly what she’d been through. ‘Do we know her name?’

  ‘Vicky Calder, forty-two years old.’ Smith zipped up his fluorescent jacket and stepped aside.

  As Gina approached, her knees clicked. She crouched in front of the woman. ‘Vicky? Do you mind if I call you Vicky?’
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  The pale woman wiped a tear from her eye as her gaze met Gina’s. She shook her head. ‘I was just walking Sprinter, my dog, and—’

  Gina noticed the woman shaking. ‘DS Driscoll, would you grab a blanket or something?’ Jacob nodded and walked over to the ambulance, jogging back with a foil blanket. Gina placed it over the woman’s knees.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Can you tell me what happened, Vicky? We need to catch whoever did this.’

  She nodded and cleared her throat. ‘We live in a flat, Mum and I, and when the dog needs to go, I have to take him for a walk. Normally his last walk is around eleven but he was whimpering to go out again. I threw my clothes on and thought I’d quickly go round the block and—’

  ‘You’re doing really well, Vicky. What happened next?’

  The woman shook her head and let out a whimper as she sobbed. ‘It had just started raining so I’d hurried.’ She paused. ‘He was there as I came through the alleyway. I saw a shadow of a person stooping over before dragging her along the pavement. I couldn’t move, or shout. He heard me, then he let go of her and ran. A few seconds later, I heard a car start up and drive off. It could have been me. If I was out with Sprinter just a few minutes earlier, it could have been me—’

  Gina noted down that Vicky had described the perpetrator as a he. ‘Can you be sure it was a man?’

  Vicky shook her head. ‘He walked like a man and seemed stocky. It was dark, that’s all I could see. I was frozen to the spot, but the dog wouldn’t stop snuffling in the verges and the man heard and spotted me. As soon as he knew I was there, he ran.’

  ‘What time was this?’

  ‘I can’t remember. I didn’t even look at the time before I left the flat. I think it was gone half twelve. I’d been looking on Facebook at that time.’