Killing Mind: An addictive and nail-biting crime thriller (Detective Kim Stone Crime Thriller Book 12)

by Angela Marsons

  The words immediately saddened Tiffany, wondering not only how the girl had reached that point but that she recalled it so matter-of-factly. She tried to picture Britney alone on a cold dark night, hungry and tired; trying to sleep amongst predators. Suddenly, the box room at her own house didn’t seem all that bad.

  ‘Lorna wasn’t like the other do-gooders who’d tried to speak to me,’ Britney continued. ‘She didn’t probe, she didn’t ask me how I’d come to be in this state and she offered me a bed for the night.’

  ‘And you just never left?’ Tiff asked.

  Britney smiled and shrugged. ‘Why would I? Lorna found me at the lowest point in my life. I had no family, I’d stolen from all my friends. I’d made some really bad decisions. I had nothing but the clothes on my back and I didn’t know where the next meal was coming from. The Farm gave me everything I needed and changed my life for ever.’

  Tiffany wanted to ask so many more questions about how Britney had reached that stage in her life, but a devilish smile was playing on the girl’s lips.

  ‘Hey, how about we nip back to my room, make hot chocolate, grab a blanket and come back and look up at the stars?’

  Britney’s excitement at such a simple pleasure was infectious, and Tiff couldn’t help but agree.

  They headed back to the room where Britney pulled out a travel kettle and a couple of small mugs. She produced a couple of sachets from her bedside cabinet.

  ‘My last two,’ she said, ripping the top off with her teeth.

  Tiffany felt strangely touched that she was using her last two drinks. As she busied herself pouring the water, Tiff took the opportunity to check the messages on her phone.

  She reached into the side pocket of the backpack. It was empty. She would have sworn she put it there, but it was so manic when they’d arrived she could be mistaken. She checked the zip section and then the main body of the bag. Twice.

  No, there was absolutely no doubt in her mind.

  Her mobile phone had gone.

  Sixty-Three

  Bryant pulled into the grounds of Hindlip Hall, a stately home that had housed West Mercia Police since 1967.

  As he walked towards the building he couldn’t help compare the biscuit-coloured frontage with regal sash windows to the drab, grey concrete of their own station in Halesowen town centre. Since being rebuilt after a fire in 1820 the property had been a family home, a girls’ school and during the Second World War was taken over by the Ministry of Works, and now accommodated both the police headquarters and the Hereford and Worcester Fire & Rescue service.

  He remembered the way to the squad room of Travis’s squad from when the two teams had worked together on a hate crimes case. It had almost resulted in the death of one of his team mates, but thanks to Penn’s input had not. And yet only months later they had indeed lost one of their own.

  There were still days Bryant expected to see his old colleague sitting at the desk nearest the door and, in all honesty, he missed the detective’s cocky arrogance, but if someone other than Dawson had to occupy that chair, he was glad it was Penn.

  He placed the temporary ID left for him at the front desk around his neck and waited to be keyed in to the main body of the building. They trusted him to wander around the building but not enough to let himself in and out.

  He headed to the third floor and knocked on the closed door before entering. The door to his own squad room was rarely closed, but as he stepped inside this one he immediately understood why. He nodded a greeting towards Travis, who stood at the top of the room, beside blown-up images of the victim.

  He tore his eyes away for the moment and appraised the room. Lynne was the only officer he recognised. She gave him a small wave before returning her attention to Travis.

  ‘For those of you who don’t know, this is DS Bryant from West Mids, who was involved in the rape and murder case of Wendy Harrison over twenty-five years ago.’

  A few turned and acknowledged his presence but most just wanted to be debriefed before going home. He understood. The first day of any murder investigation was the most harrowing. It involved details of the injury; sometimes brutal, horrific details that had to be processed, considered, analysed. The brain had to absorb all the specifics while looking for clues. Family members had to be notified, empathised with, questioned at the most godawful time. And this team sure looked like they’d been through the wringer today.

  ‘Okay, initial findings are that the attack is exactly the same as that of Wendy Harrison. Our victim is named Alice Lennox. She was twenty-two years of age and a night worker. She kept herself to herself but other girls have confirmed that she went off to buy a pack of smokes and never came back. Her mutilated body was found at Spinners Corner at nine a.m. this morning.

  ‘The similarities to the earlier attack are not random, they are exact,’ Travis said, pointing to the board. ‘In addition to the rape the inside of Alice’s legs were cut in exactly the same way as Wendy’s.’

  Bryant forced himself to look at the cuts that reached from the girl’s groin all the way down to her ankle as though the seams of her skin had been undone.

  Bryant could see all the crisscross marks where the bastard had tortured her with smaller cuts. He also noted the blood staining on her legs. Blood had poured from the wound on her left leg from the top to the bottom. On the right leg the blood flow had slowed as he’d reached the knee.

  He knew full well that meant the poor girl had been alive through most of the incision and had likely died from bleeding to death.

  He tried to fight down the rage that was building inside him. Letting Peter Drake out of prison had been a huge mistake and this girl had paid the price.

  ‘Full post-mortem is at nine in the morning. In the meantime you all need to go home and—’

  ‘You’re not arresting him tonight?’ Bryant blurted out.

  Travis gave him a warning look and Bryant held his tongue as the team began to file out the door. Lynne squeezed his arm as she passed.

  ‘Travis, what the hell?’

  ‘Bryant, calm down,’ he said, closing the door.

  ‘But you know who it is. He’s pretty much left you his confession. The crime couldn’t be any more similar.’

  Another night, another death was all Bryant could see if they didn’t haul him in right now.

  ‘We’re watching him. If he leaves the halfway house, we’ll know but right now we have a bit of a problem.’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘This time he didn’t rape her with his penis. There was something he used but it wasn’t himself.’

  Bryant closed his eyes in anticipation of what Travis was going to say.

  ‘So, right now we have absolutely no physical evidence to link him to the case.’

  Sixty-Four

  Kim checked her watch for what must have been the hundredth time. Two minutes to ten. She’d been parked up on the road, ready, since 9.35.

  ‘She’ll be here any minute, boss,’ Stacey said, beside her.

  As soon as she’d told Stacey she was picking Tiff up herself, Stacey had asked to tag along.

  ‘Try her number, Stace,’ Kim said. If she was to be here by ten she had to be away from the building by now. It was a few minutes’ walk down that dirt track.

  ‘Switched off, boss,’ Stacey said, trying to keep her tone light.

  One minute to ten.

  ‘I’ll bloody kill her for that,’ Kim said, checking her rear-view mirror.

  ‘Probably just forgot to turn it back on, boss. She wouldn’t want anyone calling her and giving the game away.’

  ‘That’s why we have a silent button, Stace,’ Kim said. There was really no excuse at all for removing herself from the only communication channel they had.

  She checked her watch again.

  Exactly ten o’clock.

  ‘Where is she, Stace?’ Kim asked, tapping the steering wheel.

  ‘I’ll try her again, boss,’ Stacey said, ringing her number again.


  Kim waited.

  ‘Nothing,’ Stacey said.

  Kim started the car. She’d drive up towards the dirt track, shine the headlights and see if Tiff was on her way down.

  ‘Jeez, boss,’ Stacey said, as she did a three point turn in the middle of the road.

  What she hoped to see was a single figure walking along the grass verge towards her.

  She drove slowly towards the dirt track and turned in.

  The headlights illuminated the rough road right up until it disappeared around the wooded area. Tiff was not on her way down.

  ‘Damn it,’ she said. ‘Where the hell is she?’

  ‘What we gonna do, boss?’ Stacey asked, unable to keep the alarm out of her voice, which did nothing to assure Kim she was overreacting to the whole situation.

  No call and no show. There had to be something wrong. What the hell had she been thinking letting the girl go in there?

  ‘Okay, Stace, if you want to get out you can but I’m gonna drive this car right up to that bloody shed and ram my…’

  She stopped speaking as her phone rang.

  The display said it was an unknown number.

  She answered and put it on loudspeaker.

  ‘Hey, Mom, it’s Tiff,’ said the cheery voice on the other end. The relief flooded through her.

  But mom?

  ‘Tiffany, where the bloody…’

  ‘Sorry not to have called sooner, Mom, but I lost my phone. Listen, I’m sorry about the things I said earlier. I didn’t mean them but I just didn’t want to come straight home until we’d both calmed down.’

  ‘Tiff, are you okay?’ Kim asked.

  ‘I’m fine, Mom. I’m with a friend… no, you don’t know her. Her name is Britney Murray, we’re at a retreat and, before you ask, I’ve eaten. We were lucky enough to get first sitting and, hang on… ooh, can’t talk for long but I just wanted to let you know I’m with lots of nice people who are taking great care of me.’

  ‘Tiff, are you sure you’re okay?’ Kim pressed, her foot still hovering over the accelerator pedal.

  Tiff laughed. ‘I promise I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me. We’ll have a proper chat about things tomorrow.’

  ‘Tomorrow?’ Kim asked, looking at Stacey.

  ‘Yes, Mom. These lovely people have invited me to spend the night.’

  Sixty-Five

  Tiffany had been on Kim’s mind all night and was still heavily present as she prepared to start the morning briefing.

  She hadn’t driven away from the site until Stacey had agreed that Tiff sounded completely okay and not as though she was being coerced into anything.

  A part of her had wanted to smash through that shed and bring Tiffany out even after they’d spoken, but after replaying the conversation over and over in her mind she had to trust that the constable knew what she was doing.

  Replaying the conversation had helped convince her that Tiff was not sending any cry for help. She was fine and she had sounded it. The only worrying part of the conversation had been about the phone. How had she lost their only source of communication? It had concerned Woody too and she had come up with an idea to put into action later that day.

  ‘Okay, so Stacey has apprised you on the situation with Tiffany. Anyone got any thoughts?’

  ‘Other than we should have pulled her out anyway,’ Bryant said.

  ‘Understood but as you said yourself yesterday, we also have to trust that she’s a twenty-four-year-old woman playing the part of a teenager and that she knows what she’s doing.’

  Bryant’s natural fatherly instincts were on overdrive given that he had a daughter of a similar age.

  ‘She knew her time on the phone with you was limited so everything she said had to mean something,’ Penn observed.

  ‘She gave us Britney’s full name and was sure to enforce that she was fine and being taken care of,’ Kim said.

  ‘And I’ve been thinking about the mention of food,’ Stacey said. ‘It was a random thing to say that they’d made it for the first sitting.’

  ‘Perhaps the first is different to the second,’ Penn offered.

  Bryant looked thoughtful.

  ‘You know, when I was a kid…’

  ‘All your food was raw cos they hadn’t invented fire yet?’ Stacey joked.

  Bryant smiled. ‘Hey, Stace, you had some real food for breakfast cos your mood…’

  ‘Continue, Bryant,’ Kim advised, as the detective constable bobbed out her tongue.

  ‘Well, my dad used to work long hours at the foundry. Mum cooked for him every night and we weren’t allowed to touch the food until he’d filled his plate.’

  ‘So, you’re saying…’

  ‘There may be a hierarchy of food. Best workers get fed first.’

  ‘Not really earth-shattering, is it?’ Kim asked.

  ‘Tyler was found with a stomach full of rice and beans,’ Penn offered.

  Kim was still unimpressed.

  ‘It’s subtle, boss,’ Penn continued. ‘But control of the food supply is a very powerful tool. It’s a basic need that…’

  ‘Okay, okay, enough on that for now. We need to get moving. Stace, any address for Eric Leland?’

  Kim was interested to know why he was persona non grata in the Facebook group.

  ‘Yep, already sent to Bryant’s phone. The guy is twenty-seven years old and has form with us for drugs and violence. Last arrest was four years ago. Heard nothing since.’

  ‘Okay, that’s our starting point for the day. Stace, I want to know more about Kane Devlin and Britney Murray. Do not deviate from that task.’

  ‘Got it, boss.’

  ‘Penn, I know how much you love a good post-mortem, so Keats is starting on our third body. Just after nine. After that I want you back on the money. Over a hundred and fifty grand is a lot to just disappear. I want to know where it went.’

  ‘Okey dokey, boss,’

  Kim headed into the Bowl to retrieve her jacket and paused.

  Regardless of her own bravado and justification about Tiffany still being at Unity Farm, Kim still wished she’d gone in and got her back.

  Sixty-Six

  Tiffany woke to a gentle shake of the arm.

  ‘Come on, sleepy head, or we’ll miss breakfast.’

  Britney’s smile was wide and infectious.

  Miraculously, when they’d returned to Brit’s room the night before it had been rearranged to accommodate another bed.

  Lying on the bed had been a brand new set of fleecy pyjamas, a dressing gown, slippers and a sealed pack of new underwear beneath which had been a small toiletry bag.

  She remembered falling into bed and off to sleep immediately. She had no idea what time it had been but she hadn’t woken once.

  ‘And if you were wondering, you snore,’ Brit said, as Tiff got out of bed.

  ‘I do not.’

  ‘Do so, not big snores but delicate little lady noises,’ Brit said and began to impersonate her.

  Tiff burst out laughing.

  ‘Well, you’ve missed shower time so just throw your clothes on and let’s head up for brekkie.’

  Tiff went to reach for her phone and remembered it was missing. Britney had helped her go through all her things and had then gone to let Jake and someone called Lorna know that a phone had been lost. Britney was convinced it had fallen out of her bag and that someone would find it and hand it in.

  Tiff knew there was nothing she could do about it right now. She was in no danger and was surprised to find that she was ravenous. If they were serving leftover chop and mash from the night before she wouldn’t mind a bit.

  She dressed hurriedly as Britney turned away and started preparing her backpack.

  ‘Oh, Brit, can we check to see if my phone—’

  ‘Yep, we’ll check with Jake on route,’ Britney said, heading for the door. ‘Come on, we’ve got a busy day ahead.’

  Tiff pulled on her second trainer and ran after her.

  Britn
ey checked the typed list on the wall and smiled. ‘First sitting.’

  Thank goodness for that, Tiffany thought. She was sure her insides were beginning to chew on themselves.

  A quick appraisal confirmed that Jake was once again at the top table, which was full. Britney pretended not to notice but a brief look of disappointment was chased away with a clap of the hands as she surveyed the breakfast offering. Tiff had noted from the waves and smiles of the diners that most folks were the same as the previous night, but not all.

  Another difference to the previous night was an extra table at the end of the line holding rows of sandwich boxes stacked high.

  ‘What’re those?’ Tiff whispered, as the room was dining in silence.

  ‘Packed lunches for the workers,’ Brit whispered back as she took her plate laden with sausage, bacon, eggs, beans, hash browns and toast. Tiff indicated to the dark-haired woman that she’d have the same. She could feel the saliva gathering in her mouth as it was plated up.

  She followed Britney to the last two seats at the bottom table. Quite honestly, she didn’t care where she sat, she just wanted to eat.

  Again, she was content with the silence. It gave her chance to focus and savour the deliciousness of the food.

  She realised that she hadn’t once looked up from her plate when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

  She looked up into the cool blue eyes of Jake Black who was smiling down at her.

  Oh no, not again.

  ‘Tiffany, I understand you’ll be returning home today but I’ve been thinking a lot about our conversation last night and I’d really like to talk to you some more. I think I can help, so if you do return with Britney, I’d love to continue our chat.’

  Tiffany nodded as he smiled and walked away.

  The panpipe music began to filter into the room and the chatter started up.

  She wondered exactly what it was that Jake wanted to say to her.

  She’d think about it later.

  Right now, she just wanted to eat.

  Sixty-Seven