‘You don’t believe me?’ he asked.
Kim didn’t hesitate. ‘Of course, I believe you. You know these people better than I do and I trust your judgement, but you can’t try a dead man.’ She took a breath. ‘Travis has no choice. If he puts blind faith in you he gets no conviction and he has to let Peter Drake go. A prospect that no one likes very much.’
‘But justice isn’t always easy, guv,’ he said.
‘And neither is it always black and white,’ she said, sitting on the wall.
Bryant followed suit and sat beside her.
‘That man carried out horrific crimes and ruined countless lives. Most people seem to feel he is capable of doing it again. You think he is. Travis thinks he is.’
‘But he didn’t…’
‘Bryant, do you think he got enough time for what he did?’
‘Never.’
‘You think the public is at risk if he’s set free?’
Bryant nodded.
‘Then at what price do you get your black and white justice?’ she asked. ‘It’s not ideal but he is going back to prison where he belongs and will never get the chance to hurt anyone again.’
He shook his head. ‘It just feels…’
‘And you’re forgetting one very important factor, Bryant?’
‘Go on.’
Thank goodness, he was finally listening.
‘He confessed. For whatever reason Peter Drake has confessed. He either wants to be back in prison or feels he should be. Either way he’s going back before he can do any more harm.’
Bryant rubbed at his hair, trying to resolve the demons in his head.
‘Okay, guv, just one question, if you don’t mind.’
‘Go on.’
‘Would you have done what Travis has done?’
Kim was saved from answering as her phone rang.
Her first thought was Tiffany.
‘Go ahead, Stace,’ she said.
‘Sorry, boss, but we need you up here, now.’
‘On our way,’ she said, ending the call.
She and Bryant made the journey back to the squad room in silence. She felt like taking a detour to the bathroom to wash her mouth out with soap.
He didn’t push her for an answer to his earlier question.
Because he already knew what it was.
One Hundred Three
‘I think Tiff might be in danger,’ Stacey said.
‘I might know where Sophie is,’ Penn said.
Kim held up her hands as Bryant took a seat. She’d only been gone a few minutes.
‘Stacey, go,’ Kim said, taking a sip of her cold coffee.
‘The second person who died at Jake Black’s first cult, Christopher Brook, he was a police officer, undercover.’
Kim froze and a heavy silence settled around them all.
‘That fact didn’t reach the press until the inquest which recorded a suicide verdict based on the testimony of people at the cult. The case landed in the news on the same day as the Chancellor’s Budget so got no attention. A wrongful death lawsuit was filed by the family against Somerset and Avon Police, which was settled, quietly, out of court.’
‘Thanks, Stace,’ Kim said, maintaining her composure. One undercover police officer had already lost his life in connection with Jake Black, and she’d sent another one right into the fire.
‘Penn?’ she said, checking her phone once more.
Nothing. Damn it.
‘Charlsberg Holdings, which belongs to Kane Drummond, owns three separate properties. One appears to be Kane’s home in West Hagley, the second is a cottage on the outskirts of Pershore and the third is a warehouse in Kidderminster.’
‘Does the cottage have outbuildings?’ Kim asked, picturing a peaceful, semi-rural location.
Penn nodded and got the property on the screen. ‘Just west of the cottage is a small barn and some kind of storage shed.’
Kim stood behind him. The place was perfect for hiding someone until you knew what to do with them. There was no main road for miles and the property was accessed through a couple of miles of single-track lanes.
‘Show me the warehouse.’
Penn clicked onto another open tab.
The warehouse was situated on the edge of a disused quarry half a mile out of the town centre. Around it were smaller properties and overspill parking spaces. It was far busier with more potential to be seen.
‘Okay, Penn, Stacey, I need you to go find out if Kane Drummond is holding Sophie Brown.’
‘You want us to go to the cottage?’ Stacey asked.
She shook her head. ‘The warehouse.’
Both officers looked at her doubtfully.
‘The cottage is too far. Kane needs faster access. If she’s alive she’s going to be close.’
She turned to Bryant. ‘Grab your coat, Bryant, we’re going the other way.’
She’d had enough pissing around. It was time to go get their colleague back.
One Hundred Four
‘You really think she’s in danger, guv, given what Stacey said?’ Bryant asked, as they headed towards Wolverley.
‘I’d feel better if she’d replied to my texts,’ Kim answered.
She’d sent another one which had been read immediately, but still no response. How was she able to keep reading them but not send a short one back to confirm all was well?
‘What if it isn’t Tiff reading them?’ Bryant asked, reaching down into her deepest fears. Especially after what Stacey had just told them.
For the hundredth time, she regretted the moment she’d had the idea to send Tiffany in there. Yes, she was a police officer and not a child but she was also up against a force greater than any of them had imagined. After her conversation with Kane she realised she hadn’t taken the threat of a cult seriously. And she had sent Tiffany in there alone.
‘You know, Bryant, if anything happens to her…’
‘I know, guv.’
She turned and stared out the window allowing Bryant to concentrate on getting to the Farm as quickly as possible. She cursed herself again for sending Tiffany into a situation for which none of them were prepared. Her own refusal to accept the risks of such a group had potentially endangered the life of one of her colleagues.
If anything happened to Tiffany she would never forgive herself.
And the speed of Bryant’s driving told her he was just as concerned as she was.
One Hundred Five
‘You know, Stace, I don’t like to question the boss but…’
‘Yeah, I’m wondering if we’re in the right place too,’ Stacey replied as they pulled off the main road.
Although it was almost seven there were still people locking up premises and leaving work late on a Friday night right by the warehouse.
Every second gave Stacey more doubts that they were in the right place.
The warehouse looked to be the size of a football pitch and had a large roller shutter door on the front and a single glass entrance door. Any stickers and signs had been peeled off leaving patches of old glue all around the glass. There was no clue as to what the place had previously been used for, but right now it looked derelict.
‘Now what?’ Stacey asked.
Penn looked at the lock on the roller shutter door and then hurried around the side.
Stacey moved from one foot to the other.
‘I reckon I can get in,’ he said, rubbing his hands.
‘What, around the side?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘Nah, that one’s double locked. I’ve got a better chance with the roller shutter. Saw a colleague do it once.’
‘Penn, that’s in full view,’ she hissed.
‘Stand in front of me and stop looking so guilty.’
‘We’re breaking in,’ she said as he lowered himself to the ground.
‘We’re the police,’ he reminded her.
‘Without a bloody warrant,’ she snapped back.
‘You think any Magistrate would i
ssue one given what we have?’
Stacey shook her head. Magistrates issued them providing reasonable grounds had been established to suspect an offence had been committed. They had nothing.
‘So, just stand still and keep the blood off your hands.’
Stacey rolled her eyes at the analogy. They might be feet away from another dead body.
She shielded him as best she could while she heard an array of frustrated oofs and aahars coming from his lips.
But the longer she stood there the more she came around to the boss’s thinking. They were actively breaking into a building and not one person was taking a bit of notice, so they’d hardly notice the comings and goings of a vehicle.
‘Got it,’ Penn said, as she heard a metallic snap.
Within seconds the roller shutter was sliding up and still no attention came their way.
When it was about waist high they both ducked underneath it and pulled it back down plunging them into total darkness.
‘Well, that…’ her words trailed away as a single beam of light shone up illuminating the immediate area.
‘Boy scout,’ Penn explained, holding the torch beneath his chin lighting up his face like a Halloween pumpkin.
‘Boo.’
‘Stop it, Penn, that’s creepy,’ she hissed.
‘Okay, try and stay close, we don’t know what’s in here.’
Stacey was about to remind him she wasn’t Jasper when she remembered there was only one torch. She took out her phone and aimed the light at his feet and followed.
Penn shone the light around the vast space which appeared to be empty and hazard free. Breeze block walls were painted white and there was a vague smell of cleaning detergent. She heard a slow rhythmic dripping sound somewhere in the distance.
Penn waved the torch around until the beam found the very end of the space at the furthest point away.
‘What’s that over there?’ Stacey asked, when the torch rested on something solid in the distance.
Penn shone the torch again while moving slowly deeper into the space.
‘Some kind of container,’ he said.
‘Is that a table next to it?’ she asked.
He continued moving slowly towards it. She pointed her phone at his feet and followed the direction of the torch.
The container was made of blue coloured steel. It reminded her of the cargo containers but smaller. She’d seen similar ones on building sites.
They reached the table first, which was no more than twenty feet from the container.
Penn stopped walking and shone the light.
‘What the hell?’ Stacey asked, as the torchlight swept across, illuminating three bottles of water, a bottle of cola, two packs of sandwiches and a few pieces of fruit.
‘Shit party,’ Penn said.
‘Yeah, but for who?’ Stacey asked, glancing towards the container door.
Penn shone the torch at the door handle as they stood side by side staring at it.
‘Penn, do you think she’s in there?’ Stacey asked, above the sound of her own beating heart.
‘Only one way to find out,’ he said, focussing the beam of the torch.
Stacey took a step forward. Her hand almost on the cold metal handle.
A low voice sounded behind her.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
One Hundred Six
Britney burst into the room breathless with excitement.
‘Ohmygod, Tiff, you’re never going to believe what’s happened.’
‘What?’
‘Jake wants us to go meditate with him.’
‘Why? I mean…’
‘Who cares?’ she asked, looking like she’d lost her mind.
Brit bounced down on the bed beside her.
‘I know you probably don’t get this yet but Jake is on a totally different intellectual and spiritual plane to the rest of us. Jake has a special place on the grounds where he chooses to meditate alone. Occasionally, I mean rarely, he invites a trusted member of the group to share the experience with him. Jeez, Lorna has been here ten years and she’s only been invited once. It’s an honour and a privilege, Tiff, now come on and get ready. He won’t be happy if we keep him waiting.’
Tiffany felt the fear crawl all over her.
The man had caught her trying to snoop earlier and somehow, somewhere, she had lost a phone that gave everything away.
She felt the perspiration begin to prick at her skin.
Lorna had been here for ten years and she’d been here two days. Why was he inviting her now?
She realised her chance to get away was gone, as Britney opened the door to the room.
Tiff had no choice but to follow her friend.
One Hundred Seven
Although she’d never met him, Stacey knew she was looking up into the face of Kane Drummond who towered above them both. His expression was unreadable but it was on a face that was vaguely familiar to her already. A few things fell into place but now was not the time. They were here for one reason only.
‘Sophie’s in there, isn’t she?’ she asked, trying to steady her voice.
Kane said nothing.
‘You’re holding her against her will?’ Penn added.
‘It’s not what you think.’
Penn glanced around at the desolate warehouse and the locked container door.
‘Really? Hardly five star is it?’
Kane regarded them silently for just a few seconds before leaning forward and opening the door to the container. It wasn’t locked.
As the door opened a shaft of light reached out to them. Stacey blinked away the brightness that assaulted her eyes. As her sight adjusted her gaze rested on the unmistakeable form of Sophie Brown sitting upright in a dining chair. The second thing she noticed were the tearstains that travelled down her cheeks.
Stacey took a step forward, noting the similar pretty features and blonde hair of her older sister.
Kane placed a hand on her arm. ‘Look and wait.’
Inside the container was another table. On it were more bottles of water and packs of food. Additionally, there were three piles of what looked like freshly laundered and folded clothes. A fan was placed in one corner and a blow heater in the other. Stacey’s gaze wandered over to Sophie, her forearms held rigid against the arms of the chair; a cushion had been placed behind her back.
‘Wh-who’s there?’ Sophie asked, moving her head from side to side.
Stacey wanted to go to her, but Kane’s hand was still on her arm.
‘Pl… please… who’s there? Please take the blindfold off me so I can see you.’
Stacey’s mouth fell open.
There was no blindfold.
Sophie’s eyes were tightly closed.
‘Untie me, you bastard,’ she cried.
There were no ties.
Her arms and feet were free to move any time she wanted.
Stacey swallowed hard and looked at Kane.
What the hell was going on here?
One Hundred Eight
The dirt track deposited them at the shed and fenced area as the last rays of sun disappeared behind a hill. Stacey had been unable to locate any other means of entry on Google Earth due to overhanging trees. As Kim had noted the other day, there was no break in the fence line and the fence itself was ten feet high. Even after scaling it they would have a half mile jog to the farmhouse.
‘Bryant…?’ she said, looking to him and then the fence.
‘Ah, damn it. I need a new car anyway.’
He pulled the gear stick into reverse and backed up about fifty feet.
‘Ready?’
Kim nodded as he changed gears and hit the accelerator.
Kim braced herself as the shiny metal fence hurtled towards her. The sickening sound of metal on metal met her ears as sparks flew around them. The car hit resistance for just a second before the metal fencing was ripped from its post and flew across the front of the car.
‘
Jeez, Bryant. Woody would be so proud of the steadying influence you have on me.’
‘More worried about explaining it to the wife to be honest,’ he muttered, getting the car onto the line of tarmac that led all the way to the house.
Bryant kept up the speed and pulled up short at the front of the house. A group had gathered hearing the noise of the approaching car.
Kim recognised one woman in particular and headed straight for her. Everyone else moved aside.
‘Sheila, where’s Tiffany?’
‘Who?… I don’t…’
‘Please don’t lie. Kane told us everything. Now, where is she?’
Kim didn’t have the time to explain.
‘Meditating with Jake.’
‘Where?’
Sheila nodded towards the wooded area at the foot of the hill.
‘A cabin about a quarter mile in.’
Kim hesitated for just a second.
‘For what it’s worth, your daughter misses you very much.’
She didn’t wait for a response but Sheila’s words followed her.
‘Stick to the path. There are traps…’
Kim threw her hand in the air to signal that she’d heard.
‘What exactly are they trying to catch?’ Bryant asked, as they hit the trodden-down path, leaving the lights of the Farm behind.
‘Ssh…’ Kim said, knowing their voices would carry in the silence.
The path into the woods was barely discernible and was only a couple of feet wide. Although it was only dusk the towering trees blocked out the last of the fading light.
‘Stay behind,’ she advised her colleague, who was taking the torch from his pocket.
‘Too bright,’ she said, taking out her mobile phone. One slip and the beam would light up the whole area alerting Jake to their presence. She wanted the element of surprise on her side.
‘Hang on, guv, what’s that hanging?…’
‘Bryant, don’t veer…’
Her warning came too late as she heard the thud of him falling to the ground, dead leaves crunching around him.
Killing Mind: An addictive and nail-biting crime thriller (Detective Kim Stone Crime Thriller Book 12) Page 26