And now this poor woman was here alone.
‘Any witnesses?’ he asked.
Her expression said it all.
He raised the letter. ‘May I take this?’
She nodded.
‘Is there anywhere else you can stay; your uncle?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘He moved back to Poland three months ago. And we will do the same once Henryk is well enough.’
Bryant felt saddened that this family had been driven out of their home. He saw Dawson’s head shake and knew he was feeling the same way.
‘I’ll inform the station that any calls to this address are to be treated as a priority,’ he said, standing.
She nodded dejectedly. No, it didn’t give him much comfort either.
He wished he could do more.
At the door, Bryant offered her his hand.
‘Thank you for your time,’ he said.
She adjusted baby two on her shoulder as the toddler grabbed her knee. She returned the handshake and offered him a tremulous smile in return.
‘And thank you for yours,’ she said.
Bryant stepped out of the house and took another look around the street.
‘You didn’t mention the texts on Henryk’s phone,’ Dawson said as the door closed behind them.
‘You think she needs anything else to be frightened of?’
Dawson nodded his agreement.
Bryant strode from her front door to the front door directly across the road. It took him eight paces. He stopped, surveyed the street from the other side of the road.
Bryant counted three BNP stickers nestled into the window corners.
‘Stretching your legs?’ Dawson asked, standing beside the car.
Bryant ignored him. The family had had offensive comments scratched into their door, broken windows and anonymous letters posted.
He looked around the street one more time.
No fucking witnesses, indeed, he thought.
SEVENTEEN
Two more lefts through a residential estate and they hit another lane which she guessed was north-west of the dig site.
‘Up here?’ she checked. This road was narrower than the single-track road on the other side of the property.
‘That’s what…’
‘Shush,’ she said, lowering the window. ‘Do you hear that?’
‘It’s called a siren, Stone,’ he said. ‘They’re used by Police, Fire…’
‘And ambulance,’ she said, putting her foot down.
The narrow road turned and increased in gradient before levelling out at a small farmhouse with a view of fields to the west and the M5 to the east.
‘Bloody hell,’ Kim said, hitting the brakes.
Ten feet in front of her a man was on the ground, another leaning over him.
Stone and Travis launched from the car. Travis got there first and hauled the leaning male to his feet.
‘What the hell?…’
Kim saw the man’s hands covered in blood.
‘Please, help him,’ he cried, trying to escape Travis’s grip.
‘Sir, step away,’ Travis said, moving him backwards.
‘What’s his name?’ Kim shouted.
‘Billy. It’s my son. His name is Billy. Please help him.’
Kim leaned down and saw what must have been the father’s handprint on the victim’s neck. She guessed he’d been applying pressure to stop the blood that was now oozing from his son’s wound.
An occasional flinch and moan confirmed that he was still alive. His eyes were closed but his breathing appeared strong and even.
‘Billy, it’s okay, help is coming,’ she said, whipping a latex glove from her jacket pocket.
The proximity of the siren suggested the ambulance was heading along the single-track lane.
Kim placed her hand where his father’s had been and felt the stickiness trying to seep around the shape of her hand. She pushed harder, applying more pressure to the wound.
Billy moaned.
Kim could hear Travis trying to establish if there was anyone else in the house and the direction of the shot. He was getting no answers from the man, who just wanted to be back beside his son.
‘They’re almost here, Billy,’ she said, looking behind as the ambulance pulled onto the property.
‘Just hang on, the medics are here now and they’re going to take care of you.’
Another moan as a gloved hand touched her shoulder.
‘We’ve got it, miss, thank you.’
Kim stepped backwards and allowed them to step in and do their job, unable to recall the last time she’d been called miss.
The paramedics performed a couple of quick checks but wasted no time transferring him to a stretcher that elevated to a gurney. They then pushed him as gently as they could towards the ambulance.
‘Is he going to be okay?’ cried the father from behind Travis.
‘We’ll take good care of him, sir,’ said the older paramedic as they expertly transferred the patient to the rear of the vehicle.
The older male tried to break free but Travis was too quick for him. ‘Let me come with…’
The ambulance door closed behind them.
‘Mr Cowley?’ Kim asked, walking towards the farmhouse.
He nodded as his eyes followed the ambulance leaving the property.
‘Is there a bathroom where I could just clean up?’ she asked, placing herself between him and the ambulance.
‘First on the left,’ he said.
Kim got her first chance to observe the short, chubby man. His bald head was emphasised by the grey stubble on his chin. Oil-stained jeans were tucked into wellington boots, and a dirty blue tee shirt strained around his stomach.
His face was creased with fear and worry.
As she stepped into the farmhouse the stench of rotten food and damp almost overwhelmed her. She ducked into the room on the left which held a toilet and a tiny sink that was full once she placed her hands into it. The toilet was cast iron with a pull chain.
Kim swilled her hands quickly and chose to wipe them on her jeans rather than the towel that was not grey by design.
She stepped back outside to find Travis on the phone by the car and Mr Cowley waiting impatiently with car keys dangling from his finger.
‘What exactly happened here, Mr Cowley?’ she asked.
‘I don’t… I’m not… please just let me…’
‘Mr Cowley, we need to know how your son was injured.’
‘Please, officer, let me go to him. I have to know he’s okay.’
Kim looked to Travis, who was off the phone. He nodded.
‘We’ll meet you at the hospital, and we’ll talk there,’ she said.
He smiled gratefully and ran towards an old pickup van.
Kim strode towards her own car, ready to follow. She paused as she opened the driver’s door and glanced back to the side of the barn and the pool of blood from which Billy Cowley had just been removed.
Lying right next to the red stain was a brown-handled rifle.
Which she would swear hadn’t been there when they’d arrived.
EIGHTEEN
‘Stone, I’m not sure what you’re hoping to achieve,’ Travis said, dourly, as she parked the car outside the A & E department.
She had tried to attach herself to the ambulance, but without flashing lights and a siren on her Golf she’d had to let it go a couple of miles back.
‘It’s called investigating, Travis,’ she said. ‘I’ll explain it to you later.’
‘What are you hoping to gain?’ he insisted.
Okay, it looked like she was going to explain it now.
‘A man has just been shot on the same land where bones have been discovered,’ she said slowly, as she approached the entrance.
‘You’re getting distracted,’ he said, testily. ‘It’s probably unrelated to our old case. We should continue to focus…’
‘Are you kidding me?’ she asked, stopping short of t
he automatic doors. A man sporting a brand new plaster cast had to be pushed around them. She ignored the flash of irritation from the woman pushing him. ‘You don’t think it’s a bit coincidental? Your instinct isn’t burning a hole in your leather wallet?’
‘I think we should leave this family in peace and…’
‘Did you see that gun next to the barn when we first arrived?’ she asked, pointedly.
‘No, but…’
‘Neither did I,’ she said.
‘We were both distracted by the commotion that was going on at the time,’ he reasoned.
‘We’re both trained investigators and neither of us noticed it right there?’ she asked with wide eyes.
Travis shook his head. ‘You’re turning what might be a simple accident into a conspiracy to—’
‘Oh Travis, shut up,’ she snapped as she spied Mr Cowley standing at the reception desk. She headed towards him, leaving Travis to look for his gut reaction.
‘They won’t let me through,’ Mr Cowley raged when he saw her. ‘Said he needs to be assessed before I can see him.’
Kim glanced at the middle-aged receptionist behind the glass panel. Her face was colouring as a line of sick and injured continued to form behind them.
‘Come with me, Mr Cowley,’ she said, trying to edge him away.
He shook her off. ‘I want to see my son.’
Kim could understand, but the security officer who was peering at them from the edge of the reception was not going to let it happen.
‘They need to be able to do their job, Mr Cowley. Please step to the side.’
She successfully moved him a foot to the left, and the receptionist was now taking the details of the next person in the queue – a young man who was holding his right hand in the air wrapped up in a bloodstained tea towel.
Mr Cowley shot her an angry look.
‘Please, just come over here. They’ll let you know as soon as there’s any news.’
He hesitated but then allowed himself to be guided to a row of vacant chairs nailed to the periphery wall.
‘Thanks for your help,’ she growled at Travis, who appeared beside her.
‘Bloody hell, Stone. Make your mind up. One minute you don’t want my help and then…’
‘My colleague here will get you a cup of tea,’ she said, sitting beside Mr Cowley.
She didn’t look at Travis but sensed his bulk moving away from them.
‘Mr Cowley, can you tell me what happened to your son?’ she asked, trying to ignore the stench of body odour that emanated from him.
Jeff Cowley shook his head and ran a hand over his unshaven chin.
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I heard a shot and ran outside. Billy was on the ground, by the barn. I ran over. There was blood everywhere.’ He patted the side of his neck.
‘He’d been shot in the neck?’ Kim asked, as Travis held a plastic cup towards the man. He shook his head at Travis and nodded towards her. ‘And his shotgun was lying beside him.’
‘Was he conscious?’ Kim asked. Had he been able to say anything? she wondered.
‘Stone, we need to step away and let…’
Kim followed his gaze to the door. The West Mercia squad car had finally caught up with them.
‘Back them off for a minute,’ Kim said. Travis was eager to hand this off as an unrelated incident. She was not so sure. Coincidences unnerved her. And the timeliness of a shooting incident on the property where bones had been discovered the previous day was setting off her senses like a street full of house alarms after a power surge.
‘Did your son manage to say anything at all?’ Kim pushed. She needed to know if this was some kind of accident.
‘His eyes were closed,’ Cowley said, swallowing deeply.
‘Stone,’ Travis said again.
Kim shot him a warning glance. The two black clad officers were fidgeting by the door. Illnesses, injuries were momentarily forgotten as every gaze in the waiting room was on them.
‘Mr Cowley, you do understand that we need to search your property?’
He looked confused. His mind only on the life of his son.
‘Not because of the shooting,’ she clarified. ‘But because of the discovery by the woods. Do we have your permission?’ she asked.
He nodded absently, as a woman charged through the waiting officers and headed straight towards them.
Kim assessed her quickly. She was five two in heels with a petite frame. She wore a navy trouser suit with a plain white shirt. The curtains of an auburn bob were separated by a blunt fringe.
‘What happened?’ she asked, ignoring both Kim and Travis.
‘It’s Billy. He was shot… I don’t know what…’
‘And you are?’ the woman asked, turning to Kim and then looking at Travis.
‘The officers investigating the discovery of human bones on Mr Cowley’s property,’ Kim answered shortly.
Kim turned back to the man with his head in his hands but had no chance to speak before the woman stepped closer.
‘What have you told them?’ she barked.
Mr Cowley looked dazed. ‘They want to look… search the property,’ he said, looking towards the entrance to the treatment rooms.
‘Mr Cowley has given us permission,’ Kim clarified.
‘Has he?’ the woman said, through a tightening jaw. ‘Well, my name is Fiona Cowley; Mr Cowley’s daughter. It’s my name on the lease and that permission has just been revoked.’
She looked towards Travis whose expression remained impassive. Surely that instinct had to have kicked in now.
As though reading her mind he stepped forward.
‘Miss Cowley, we will get permission from the landowners or with warrants. It would just be helpful…’
‘I am not here to assist the police, so if you take one step towards that property I’ll have you in court. And good luck with the Preece family. You’ll get nothing from them.’
Despite her hostile manner, Kim couldn’t help her own interest at the venom in the woman’s tone when she referred to the landowners.
‘Why do you say that?’ she asked, as Fiona’s hand came to rest on her father’s shoulder.
‘Because they are a bunch of robbing bastards,’ she said.
Kim would have liked to pursue the matter further, but the phone in her pocket began to ring.
‘Doctor A,’ she said, taking a step away from the smartly dressed Rottweiler.
‘Inspector, I need you at the lab, now,’ she said, solemnly, before ending the call.
Kim shoved the phone back into her pocket and checked the clock on the wall. What could she possibly have discovered in the three hours since they’d last met?
By the sound of the scientist’s voice, Kim knew it was nothing good.
NINETEEN
‘Anything from the boss, Stace?’ Bryant asked, as they entered the squad room.
Dawson’s tie was immediately removed and discarded onto his desk.
Stacey shook her head. ‘Not a peep.’
‘Busy day, Stace?’ Dawson mocked.
‘Fuck off,’ she replied, tersely.
Bryant sighed. It was obvious from her set expression that she’d had a shit day, and he had no clue why Dawson had to needle her.
‘Kev’s got a present for you,’ he said, narrowing his eyes.
Dawson tutted and took the phone from his pocket. He skidded it across the desk.
She caught it. ‘Whose phone, Fred Flintstone?’ she asked, turning it around.
‘It’s not that old, Stace,’ Bryant said. It wasn’t so long ago he’d had that same model himself.
‘In technology terms we’re talking early Victorian,’ she quipped.
‘Phone belongs to Henryk Kowalski,’ Dawson said.
‘Why isn’t it logged?’ she asked, turning his way.
Evidentially, it should have been bagged, recorded and sent to forensics. Had the phone been available immediately at the scene, Marie West’s fingerprints could h
ave been taken and eliminated.
‘It’s been MIA since the attack,’ Dawson answered.
No court would allow it as evidence now. The attacker’s sweat, saliva and semen could be all over it but that information would never be admissible.
The tiny screen sprang into life as Stacey pressed the power button.
‘Henryk received a text message about casual work,’ Dawson explained. ‘Can you crack it?’ he asked, as the password prompt appeared on the screen.
‘Yowm kidding?’ Stacey asked, disgusted he would question her about such a basic request. ‘Can you take a witness statement?’ she retorted in response.
‘Debatable,’ Bryant offered with a smile. There was a line of tension stretching across their desks.
‘Bloody hell, Stace. Are you not getting enough?—’
‘Finish that sentence, Kev. I dare yer,’ she snapped.
Dawson closed his mouth.
Bryant watched with fascination as the constable hit a few keys in quick succession before powering it off and on again. The menu appeared on the screen.
‘Nice one, Stacey,’ he said.
She offered no response. He did wonder sometimes if she had any clue of her own value. The task had posed no challenge for her but neither himself nor Dawson would have been able to do it in a month of Sundays.
‘I’ve got the text message,’ Stacey said. ‘Received from an unknown number.’
‘Damn,’ he said.
‘Shit,’ Dawson added.
‘I’ll see if there’s anything I can do,’ she offered, continuing to look around his phone.
Her fingers paused as she began to read. The frown on her face turned to a look of horror. She looked from one to the other.
‘Guys, you’d better come and have a look at this.’
TWENTY
‘You know, Travis, either step in or don’t step in but at least be consistent about it,’ Kim said, taking the stairs down to the morgue.
Travis shook his head. ‘Stone, I find women in general a complete mystery but you should come with a bloody instruction manual.’
Kim ignored him as she buzzed through to the lab.
‘Hello again, Doctor A,’ Kim offered, brightly. It was good to see a friendlier face.
Dead Souls: A gripping serial killer thriller with a shocking twist Book 6 Page 7