House of Lies (Detective Karen Hart)

by D. S. Butler

  He smiled. ‘Yes, I believe Superintendent Murray told you we’ve got a new team looking into it now. Two full-time officers and one part-time civilian admin assistant. And that’s not all. They’re going to give the assistant chief constable weekly updates. We need results. We need accountability.’

  ‘I agree, sir,’ Superintendent Murray said.

  Karen shifted in her chair. It sounded good. Actually, it sounded great. Finally, some forward momentum, and someone with a drive to get to the bottom of the corruption. There was one thing that worried Karen though. Updates to Assistant Chief Constable Kenneth Fry. She had dealt with him before and his attitude towards the corruption case didn’t fill Karen with confidence.

  A moment later there was a knock, and Pamela opened the door for the assistant chief constable.

  He strode in and offered a smile to Grayson and a nod to Murray. He ignored Karen. Not a good start. A woman with red curly hair and freckles followed him in.

  ‘Ah, Kenneth, DS Grace,’ Grayson said. ‘Glad you could make it. I’ve just been telling DS Hart and Superintendent Murray that we’ve made new plans for the corruption inquiry. We’re determined to get to the bottom of it, aren’t we?’

  Fry nodded. ‘Absolutely, sir.’

  ‘And we’re going to get results this time. You’ve met DS Hart before?’

  ‘Yes, I have.’ Fry’s eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced at Karen.

  ‘I haven’t,’ DS Grace said, offering Karen a warm smile and her hand to shake.

  ‘DS Grace will be the lead on this investigation, Karen,’ Grayson said. ‘She’s from Boston.’

  ‘Good to meet you.’ Karen shook her hand. ‘Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.’

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘Excellent.’ Grayson stood. ‘With proper accountability, we’ll get results. The important thing is absolutely no drifting,’ he said, prodding the desk as he spoke.

  DS Grace looked a little confused but nodded and went along with it. ‘Absolutely, sir. No drifting.’

  Karen was smiling as she left the superintendent’s office. She followed DS Grace to the stairwell. The woman had an open and friendly face, and Karen hoped she was the right officer for the job. She’d found it hard to trust her colleagues after Freeman’s betrayal. People could be very deceptive, and this latest case and Cressida Blake had driven that point home.

  It was hard not to wonder, if it came down to it and her life was on the line, could she trust her fellow officers, or would they turn their backs on their morals to earn a bit of extra cash?

  DS Grace gave Karen a conspiratorial smile. ‘What was all that about drifting? I hope it made sense to you.’

  ‘Grayson was concerned that the previous corruption investigation was drifting on without direction.’

  ‘Ah, that makes sense. I’ll be coming to talk to you next week, if that’s okay?’ DS Grace said. ‘I know I’ve got the events detailed in the reports, but I’d like a one-on-one meeting.’

  ‘No problem. If it helps get to the bottom of this then I’m on board.’

  ‘Great.’

  As Karen made her way back to her desk, she felt hopeful for the first time in a long while that they might finally get to the truth.

  ‘Sarge?’

  Karen turned and headed over to Sophie’s desk. The young officer sat in front of her computer, hair tucked behind her ears, cheeks flushed and eyes shining with excitement.

  ‘What is it? Found something?’

  ‘I think so.’ Sophie turned her screen so it faced Karen.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘We’ve been trying to track down where Cressida was on Thursday night after she killed Natasha.’

  Karen nodded. ‘Yes, you were looking at the outbuildings in the area.’

  ‘I was, but then I thought, Cressida would have been cold and wet. When she returned on Friday, she didn’t have a coat.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘So I thought she’d need to be somewhere warmer than an outbuilding.’

  ‘A B&B?’

  ‘I thought about that, but then I remembered my conversation with Mrs Jackson.’

  ‘Mrs Jackson?’

  ‘The old lady who Natasha and Cressida helped when she fell on her drive. She had a video doorbell that recorded them helping her, and on it, Mrs Jackson was telling them about her annexe. Her son was away so it wasn’t in use.’

  ‘You checked it?’ Karen asked.

  Sophie beamed. ‘I did. Someone had been using it. Food was taken from the freezer, a dirty plate was in the sink. And I found Cressida’s coat, soaking wet in the wheelie bin.’

  ‘Well done, Sophie. Great work, and another part of the mystery solved.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  On Saturday morning, Karen knocked on the door of Mike Harrington’s cottage. He didn’t answer straightaway, but she heard Sandy barking inside.

  It had felt odd to walk on Chidlow land after everything that had happened. Lord Chidlow had been released on bail and was staying in London. As his flat in the capital was the address he’d given the court, he wouldn’t be at the house today, but Karen couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder as she walked down the lawns to the lake.

  The edge of the lake had shown signs of the search. Flattened reeds, footprints, churned-up mud. But the lake itself was calm and peaceful. Karen had thought of the bright young woman, full of promise, heading out for a fun night with her friend – with no idea what lay in store for her.

  Karen had lingered by the shore of the man-made lake for a moment, feeling desperately sorry that the only way they could help Natasha Layton was by ensuring her killer was held to account.

  When Harrington opened the door abruptly, Karen was so lost in her thoughts again that she jumped.

  Sandy greeted her, enthusiastically wagging her tail. Karen reached down to pet her.

  Harrington’s surly face was a little brighter this morning. His usual moody frown had almost disappeared.

  ‘I wasn’t expecting visitors,’ he said bluntly.

  ‘I would have called first, but you don’t have a phone.’

  ‘Actually, I do now. Got it a couple of days ago.’

  ‘You’ve rejoined society? Next you’ll be on social media.’

  He pretended to shudder. ‘Don’t even joke about it.’ He smiled. ‘Come in. Sorry about the state of the cottage.’

  Karen stepped inside, and her eyes widened. The place was a mess. Every counter was stacked high with Harrington’s belongings, and the floor was covered with cushions, folded blankets and various possessions.

  ‘Did the search team leave it like this?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Harrington said. ‘I’m moving, packing up.’

  Karen took in the crates and the items that had been stuffed into them at odd angles. Inefficient use of space, she thought, but managed to keep that to herself.

  ‘How can I help?’ he asked.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Did you come for a specific reason or were you just after that cup of tea you missed out on the last time you were here?’

  It was Karen’s turn to smile. ‘Yes, I had a reason.’ She dug around in her handbag and pulled out an envelope. ‘Official letter, explains how you can retrieve your property after the trial. Could be a while yet, though.’

  Harrington frowned and took the envelope. ‘What property?’

  ‘The polo shirt.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t want that back.’

  ‘No? But I thought you had five shirts, so you didn’t need to do washing until the weekend.’

  ‘You remember me saying that?’ He looked amused.

  ‘I read DI Morgan’s interview notes. Washing your work shirts once a week is an efficient way to operate. That, on the other hand’ – she pointed at the haphazard items in the crates – ‘is not an efficient method.’

  He grinned. ‘No, I suppose I could have done a better job. Want to help?’

  ‘So you get free la
bour? I don’t think so. I’m acting in a purely advisory capacity.’

  ‘Oh, I see. Well, to thank you for the advice, the least I can do is offer you the cup of tea you turned down last time you were here. You couldn’t get out of here fast enough.’

  As he made the tea, Karen looked out of the window at the woods. The weather was much better today and the weak sunlight filtered down through the bare branches.

  ‘Sorry if I scared you last time,’ Harrington said. ‘I was angry.’

  ‘You were . . . but it wasn’t because I was scared.’ Karen took a deep breath. ‘It was the boxes, I think. The ones you had by the door.’

  Harrington handed her a mug of tea. ‘Ah, I thought so.’

  Karen frowned, watching him closely as she sipped the tea. ‘You thought so?’

  ‘You lost someone too? A child?’

  Karen had to look away. His gaze was unsettling; she didn’t like the way he was able to read her so easily. Or had someone told him? Morgan? But Karen couldn’t imagine Morgan sharing details of her private life with a man who was a suspect during an investigation.

  ‘Am I that transparent?’ she asked, warming her hands around the mug.

  ‘No, not at all, but I can see something of my own pain reflected in you, I suppose.’

  Karen said nothing.

  ‘Well, this is all getting a bit deep for a Saturday morning.’ He ran a hand through his dark hair and turned to inspect the crates.

  ‘So, where are you moving to?’ Karen asked before taking another sip of her tea.

  ‘Not far. Still Lincolnshire. Got a new job offer. I can’t stay here and work for a man like Chidlow now I know what he’s been doing.’

  ‘No, I wouldn’t want to either. What’s the new job?’

  ‘At a rescue centre for dogs. It’s a volunteer role.’

  Karen wondered what he would do for money without a salary coming in, but decided that was none of her business.

  ‘I’m sorry about the search and everything,’ she said. ‘It can’t have been easy to have officers going through your son’s possessions.’

  ‘No, and you were a bit judgy too.’

  ‘Judgy? That’s not even a word.’

  He laughed. ‘All right. Judgemental, then. You thought I was guilty.’

  Karen put her mug down on the draining board and folded her arms. ‘It’s my job.’

  ‘I know, and thanks to you doing your job well, I was exonerated.’

  Karen glanced at Sandy, who was looking at Harrington and Karen in turn like she was watching a tennis match. ‘Luckily I don’t do this job expecting to get thanked.’

  ‘I suppose I should thank you. I could cook you dinner one night?’

  Karen hesitated. She liked him. The moodiness took some getting used to, but when he smiled his eyes were warm, and he was smiling now.

  ‘You could help me celebrate a new beginning,’ he continued.

  Still Karen didn’t answer.

  ‘Why don’t I call you when I’ve settled into my new place?’

  ‘You’d need my number to do that,’ Karen said.

  ‘Yes, I would.’ He smiled again. It suited him.

  ‘All right,’ Karen said. ‘But you should know it’s mainly because I want to see Sandy again.’

  He laughed. ‘Don’t worry. I know where I stand in the pecking order. I like to think Sandy’s my dog, but sometimes I think it’s the other way around. I’m her human.’

  After leaving the cottage, Karen walked back across the lawns. When she reached her car, she realised she was still smiling.

  On Monday, at six p.m., Karen shut down her work computer. Things were progressing well. Natasha Layton’s body would be released back to the family tonight and they could make plans for the funeral. The case against Cressida Blake was complicated, but Karen was hopeful. She believed the evidence was strong enough to withstand Cressida’s legal team, her youth and her talent for manipulation.

  Karen reached for her handbag and spotted Morgan leaving his office, shrugging on his jacket.

  ‘Fancy a drink?’ he asked. ‘Butcher & Beast?’

  ‘Sounds good,’ Karen said.

  The mention of a drink caused Rick to lift his head and grin at Karen. ‘A beer is just what I need. It’s been a long week.’

  Sophie, who was sitting opposite Rick, laughed. ‘But it’s only Monday!’

  ‘Then I really need a drink.’

  ‘No Jill tonight?’ Sophie asked Morgan, as all four of them left the office.

  Morgan still hadn’t introduced Jill to the team – not that he needed to, but Karen couldn’t help wondering what she was like. He’d said he and Jill had a lot in common, so Karen had imagined her to be a female version of Morgan. Serious, sensible and a stickler for the rules.

  ‘No, not tonight. As things have been so hectic here recently, we decided I’d call her when things calmed down.’

  As they headed out of the main door, Rick and Sophie walked to one side of the car park and Karen and Morgan went to the other.

  The air was cold, and Karen wrapped her scarf around her neck, then rummaged in her bag for her car keys.

  ‘I’m here if you want someone to talk to, you know,’ Morgan said.

  ‘I know,’ Karen said, stepping around a puddle on the tarmac.

  ‘After the other night, I thought you might think I was fobbing you off.’

  ‘You were busy. You have every right to relax with Jill and enjoy yourself. I didn’t think you were fobbing me off.’

  ‘All right. I just don’t want you to think you can’t rely on me if you need help.’

  Karen smiled. ‘Thanks, Morgan. I know I can rely on you, but I’m fine.’

  ‘Really?’

  Karen’s smile widened as she nodded. She really did feel okay. ‘I’m more positive about things now. The new team looking into the corruption is working hard. I spoke to DS Grace this morning and she’s fully focused and hugely determined. Now the chief constable is on board, pushing for results, we have a real chance of finding out who else was involved with Freeman.’

  ‘Did you ever find out the significance of DCI Churchill?’

  Karen shook her head as she unlocked her car. ‘No, but I think that might have been a red herring. Alice Price wants to help, but she doesn’t always give reliable information. Her mental health has suffered since she left the police.’

  ‘That must be hard for her.’

  ‘I think it is. One moment she was convinced DCI Churchill was involved, the next she couldn’t remember why she ever suspected him.’

  ‘Then you should carefully assess any information she provides in the future.’

  ‘I will, but I’m hoping with DS Grace on the case, we’ll soon have more reliable sources of information than Alice. We’re moving in the right direction.’

  ‘That’s good news.’

  Karen smiled. ‘It is. The best news I’ve had for a long time.’

  ‘Then we’d better get to the Butcher & Beast to celebrate,’ Morgan said, heading to his own car.

  Karen drove out of the station car park and headed towards Lincoln. The road through the city was clogged with rush-hour traffic. She put some music on, a cheerful pop song, and hummed along, determined not to let traffic dampen her mood.

  The line of cars slowed near the crossroads by the cemetery. Karen glanced across and said, ‘It won’t be much longer now.’

  This time next month, with DS Grace digging into the corruption, they should have some real results.

  Finally, they would have justice.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  A huge thank you to my fantastic editor, Jack Butler, and all at Amazon Publishing for their hard work and enthusiasm for the Karen Hart series.

  Special thanks to Russel McLean for his insightful input and invaluable attention to detail.

  Heartfelt gratitude to Jane, Lesa and all the people at Branston Community Library for generously spreading the word about my books.

&n
bsp; To my family, a special thank you for things too numerous to mention, after a very difficult year for us all; and, as always, thanks to Chris for his belief in me and unwavering support.

  And finally, most importantly, thank you to all those who have read and recommended my books. Your kind words and encouragement mean the world to me.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Born in Kent, D. S. Butler grew up as an avid reader with a love for crime fiction and mysteries. She has worked as a scientific officer in a hospital pathology laboratory and as a research scientist. After obtaining a PhD in biochemistry, she worked at the University of Oxford for four years before moving to the Middle East. While living in Bahrain, she wrote her first novel and hasn’t stopped writing since. She now lives in Lincolnshire with her husband.