‘Damn it,’ she said, trying to move her hands around to keep the blood from leaving his body. All the while she could see the pools of blood growing deeper and wider around him.
‘No,’ she cried out as she felt the life ebbing away from him. ‘Don’t you dare,’ she growled, moving her hands again. She knew a person could die from loss of blood in as little as five minutes, less if the wounds were serious and right now she had two serious wounds from which she couldn’t stem the blood.
She knew he had lost consciousness.
She moved her hands again, the warm stickiness leaving hand prints everywhere she touched.
‘Stay with me, Jake,’ she breathed, as his torso gave a sigh before stilling completely.
‘Fuck it,’ she called out, tipping his head back.
‘Boss, can I?…’
‘Stay where you are, Tiff,’ Kim instructed. They couldn’t risk Britney getting away.
‘Keep still, Brit,’ Tiffany shouted, and Kim could hear the emotion in her voice.
Tiffany had gotten closer to this girl than Kim had imagined but she couldn’t think about that now.
She linked her fingers and placed the heel of her hand in the middle of Jake’s chest. She pressed down thirty times and then gave two breaths directly into his mouth.
She checked his chest. Nothing.
She repeated the process and checked again.
Nothing.
Part of her knew he’d gone, but she had to keep trying.
Sheila and three other women appeared at the edge of the trees followed by her limping colleague.
The women looked on in horror as Bryant approached her. Two beads of sweat dropped onto the unmoving chest of Jake Black.
‘He’s gone, guv,’ Bryant said, touching her shoulder.
Kim sat back and took a proper look, seeing what Bryant had seen straight away. His complexion was a deathly white and the circles of blood around him were like storm puddles. No one could survive that level of blood loss.
She wiped her hand across her forehead and felt the stickiness of his blood on her skin.
‘What the hell happened here?’ Bryant asked, looking around.
‘I’ll explain later,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘Nothing to see here, folks,’ Kim said, stepping in front of Britney and Tiff.
Bryant took over and began shepherding them away.
Britney had stopped struggling once Kim had stopped working on Jake, as though she now knew for certain that it was all over.
The girl looked up at the woman she thought had been her friend. Hurt shone from her eyes.
Kim stepped to one side.
‘Britney, I don’t hate you,’ Tiff said. ‘In spite of what you’ve done, I still don’t hate you. You welcomed me and took care of me and made me feel as though I’d met someone I could totally trust. I was going to leave, but I was leaving this place. I wasn’t leaving you.’
Kim heard the sob that came from the girl on the ground.
Kim was satisfied they had their killer but there would be no celebration in the squad room tonight.
Britney was not a mindless, ruthless, brutal murderer but a kid damaged by being abandoned. She had found some measure of security at the Farm, where her weaknesses and vulnerabilities had been manipulated and used to satisfy the feeling of betrayal of someone else.
Kim tapped Tiffany on the shoulder.
The officer looked back up at her with reddened eyes.
‘Okay, Tink, time to step aside. I think it’s best if I take it from here.’
One Hundred Twelve
It was almost eleven when Bryant stepped out of the taxi.
The boss had insisted he get himself to hospital for a check-up, but he’d diverted the taxi she’d ordered. His ankle was a bit stiff from the initial jolt of the rope but his years on the rugby pitch told him that nothing was broken, and there was something he needed to do before he could put Peter Drake and the week from hell behind him.
Damon Crossley answered the door on the second knock.
‘What the fuck?…’
‘Oh, Damon, shut up and let me past,’ Bryant said, in no mood for his hard man act. He was hungry and tired and he still hadn’t told Jenny about the car.
Bryant had thought long and hard about what he was going to do, especially when he’d been sitting alone in the woods with a trap around his ankle.
Bryant knew that Richard Harrison had killed Alice Lennox and that Peter Drake was innocent of the crime, despite his confession. In his own twisted mind Richard had not understood that in taking the life of an innocent girl he had been doing exactly what he’d feared Peter Drake would do himself. He had only seen that the man needed to be punished further for the horrific murder of Wendy. Whether his suicide was from the guilt of what he’d done or to reach the afterlife to protect his daughter, Bryant couldn’t say for sure but he suspected it was a mixture of the two.
Richard had never been able to free himself of the horror, terror and pain his daughter had suffered. He had relived it every day allowing the guilt to eat away at the decent person he had once been, although that knowledge did nothing, in Bryant’s mind, to absolve him of the brutal murder of Alice Lennox.
He had no proof except for the feeling in his gut that would not go away. If he pursued his suspicions there was a chance someone might listen if he shouted loud enough. There was no person to charge with the crime because the man was dead. Alice Lennox’s family would never have closure.
Peter Drake would be allowed to walk the streets again and the Crossleys would never again know a minute of peace. A lot of lives ruined in his quest for black and white justice.
The other way only he carried the burden of knowing the truth.
Bryant looked at the empty space where Tina had sat before attempting to kill her husband; the man who acted hard as nails to protect the woman he loved.
‘So, the bastard struck again, did he?’ Crossley asked, dropping one layer of hostility.
And this was where he made the final decision.
‘Yes, Damon, Peter Drake struck again. He confessed to the whole thing.’
Bryant prepared himself for the onslaught about shit police and crap parole board before being ordered out of the house.
Damon remained uncharacteristically quiet and stared sadly at Tina’s empty space by the window.
‘Time to drop the charges and bring her home, Damon,’ Bryant said, wearily.
Damon said nothing.
‘Nice wound you gave yourself, mate. Took some guts but you didn’t much care about yourself when you were trying to get her put back in the only place she’s felt safe in decades. You knew just the thought of him being free was putting the fear of God into her and it was the only thing you could do to make her feel safe.’
Damon let out a long breath before dropping down onto the sofa.
‘She’s always been waiting, you see,’ he explained. ‘Every day she’s known he’d be free someday. It’s shaped her life, the fear.’
‘Well, she doesn’t need to be scared any more. He’ll never see the light of day again.’
‘Thank God,’ Damon breathed into the hands that covered his face.
‘Be prepared for a serious bollocking at the station but just tell them the truth. They’re expecting it.’
Bryant looked at the empty space.
‘And then it’s time to go and fetch Tina home.’
Damon Crossley stood and offered his hand.
‘You’re all right you,’ he said. ‘Not like the other bastards.’
That was high praise indeed.
The decision he’d made would always stick in his craw. He’d stepped into the grey area of justice and he consoled himself that for everyone around him he’d done the right thing.
And for him that would have to do.
One Hundred Thirteen
Kim had found herself thinking about Britney long after she’d charged her with the murder of her father, Tyler Short, Sama
ntha Brown and Jake Black.
Britney had waived the right to legal counsel during questioning, and Kim had felt like insisting, but that wasn’t her place. She surmised that the girl wouldn’t trust anyone who was appointed to represent her. Everyone was a stranger, a zombie, and zombies weren’t to be trusted. Britney had looked so much younger, sitting across from her in the interview room as she had freely added detail to her crimes.
She explained how her father had reached out to her and it was only once she met him at Himley Park that the rage overtook her and she pushed him into the water and held him down. Seeing him again had brought back the abandonment of both her mother and her father, the loneliness, the despair she had felt as a child. Feelings she’d buried for years while she simply survived. Kim had compared Britney’s rage to the man’s slight build and understood how she had physically outmatched him.
She had recited how easy it had been to get to Samantha with a housewarming gift. Her old friend had pretended to be pleased to see her. But she’d known it was just an act. Jake had explained that Sammy was just another person who had used her and then left her. They had talked and laughed and caught up, and Britney had persuaded Sammy to lie on the bed for a foot massage, something they’d done for each other after a long day standing on the college car park. Once Sammy’s eyes had closed she had taken the knife and slit her throat.
Tyler had been easy enough to find. Britney knew from their time together that before he’d followed Sammy to Unity Farm he’d cadged the occasional free meal from the Subway in Dudley. He’d left the Farm with no money and no place to live. She’d only had to wait a couple of days before he showed up. She’d persuaded him to meet her at the lake to talk. At first she’d tried to coax him to return, but he’d refused and in doing so had sealed his own fate. She’d admitted to borrowing Sheila’s shoes that day, as was the culture at Unity Farm, after her own had become sodden in a thunderstorm the day before.
Britney would now be living in a prison cell, though Kim couldn’t help feeling that she really needed to spend some time with Kane. How the hell could she unravel all this on her own? Had she really seen Jake for what he was before she’d killed him? If so, how would she come to terms with that? Had it been a momentary lapse of anger that she would later regret when he returned to the godlike status in her mind? Same question. How would she come to terms with the fact she was responsible for the death of her idol?
There had been no joy in the process of charging her. Kim had even lacked the sense of achievement she normally felt. She only knew that she had done her job. In an ideal world, she would hate every person she put away; she would despise them and never think of them again.
But that wasn’t the case with Britney Murray. The girl had been damaged at an early age, which had prompted her to look for a place to belong, a group of people that would not let her down. But they had let her down. Jake Black had used her to punish people he felt had wronged him. He had massaged her insecurities and her weaknesses until she was powerless to resist his subtle guidance. She had believed him when he said he’d never instructed her to kill anyone. He hadn’t needed to but she had no doubt that the man himself was just as much to blame as Britney. He was dead and they would never prove it. Her case would be for the prosecution, but she hoped her defence lawyer called someone like Kane Drummond to testify.
Kim looked down at her hands. Three showers later she could still feel the warm stickiness of Jake Black’s blood on her hands. Although she had tried her hardest to save him there was not one bone in her body that was sorry he was dead. She knew they would have struggled to link him directly to the crimes, and he would have remained free to continue the shaping and warping of young minds.
There would be further questioning at Unity Farm but as Kim saw it no serious offences had been committed by anyone else there. She knew of no accomplices, there were no accessories and it appeared that no one was being held there by force. Hilda would be informed about Britney’s true motivations and efforts would be made to uncover any other elderly, vulnerable targets of the Farm. Recent events had catapulted Unity Farm from obscurity and into her cross hairs. From this point on they would be watched closely. She understood that Lorna had taken over the day-to-day running of the Farm while they all came to terms with Britney’s crimes and Jake’s death.
Penn had received a call from Josie to say that her mother had returned safe and well and after emotional apologies on both sides they had simply fallen into each other’s arms and cried. Maybe that’s all some of the folks at Unity Farm needed, a reminder of the people who loved them. If Kane intended to continue his current business, he would need to recruit someone else for the informant role.
She had called him late the previous evening, once Britney was in custody, to update him. Although he’d said little she could sense the sadness for the girl stretching along the line between them. He had shown no such sadness for the demise of Jake Black and she had understood why.
‘Graham Deavers was your brother, wasn’t he?’ she’d asked, gently.
Stacey had made the connection when she’d come face to face with Kane for the first time in the warehouse.
‘Half,’ Kane answered.
‘That’s why you know so much about cults. Did Graham want to leave?’
Kim knew the silence was filled with his indecision in opening up to her.
‘Graham was one of the group’s beggars,’ Kane said, surprising her. ‘He’d dropped out of school and was unskilled but still useful. He was an inexpensive body that survived on rice and beans and was sent out every day to beg as much money as he could. The only advantage was that it meant I could get to him. I could see him. While I was learning about how cults work I was talking to him, almost daily. He was starting to believe me.’
‘Until?’ Kim asked, feeling her breath gather in her chest even though she knew the outcome to this story.
‘Until he told Jake that he was thinking of leaving. Later that day he was asked to fix a section of guttering on the roof.’
‘Kane, I’m…’
‘And Christopher Brook was sent in because of me. I was insistent that there was something going on there. I was the one who made a nuisance of myself until someone would listen. I was the one…’
‘That’s why you work alone, why you won’t involve the police?’ she asked, finally understanding it all, including his aggressive reaction to them having sent in an officer undercover.
‘No one else will get hurt because of me.’
Kim closed her eyes and thanked God that she’d got to Tiffany in time.
She could feel his pain, but that wouldn’t stop her asking the question that was in her mind and was the real reason for the phone call.
‘You know what, Kane, you can’t bring that police officer back but you can do a favour for one right now.’
Silence. ‘I’m listening.’
Kim had told him what she wanted and ended the call.
During the investigation they had uncovered many more victims than the ones who had lost their lives. She thought of Eric Leland and his mother. Would his hatred for the woman ever dissipate? Would his connection to the Farm and his loyalty to a dead man ever ebb enough for him to lead some semblance of a normal life?
She thought of Sammy Brown and Tyler Short; one with a loving family and the other with nothing. Their backgrounds hadn’t mattered. They had both been vulnerable and had sought to belong. Funerals for both were due to be held in the coming week. She would attend both and so would Myles and Kate Brown, who had asked if they could attend the burial of Tyler Short. She had been touched at their wish to pay their respects to a lonely young man whose only crime had been to fall in love with their eldest daughter.
She thought about Sophie Brown. She recalled the shock she’d felt at what Stacey and Penn had explained they’d seen in the warehouse. That Jake had maintained such complete control over Sophie from a distance was both disturbing and terrifying. Sophie was now back a
t home and Kane had recommended a female colleague to help the family. He accepted that Sophie would not trust anything he had to say. The poor girl had been informed of her sister’s murder and was having to try and navigate her way through a whole new world. Kim was sure the Browns knew that it wasn’t going to be a short process. It could be years until they got the old Sophie back, if ever. The whole family may have to contemplate that a totally different Sophie might emerge from the fog, while also adjusting to a life without Samantha. She doubted that the family would ever recover from their involvement with Unity Farm.
If there was one thing Kim now understood, it was that involvement with a cult always left its mark. Sophie had a long road to recovery. Over time she would have to learn to deal with her own thoughts, her own ideas. She would have to face the pressure of making her own decisions, living amongst strangers and dealing with everyday stress.
Those thoughts led her to Peter Drake and, although she hadn’t voiced her opinion to Bryant, she felt that was the real reason he’d admitted to the murder of Alice Lennox.
After nearly twenty-six years in prison Peter Drake was now institutionalised. He had lost his freedom but he had been part of a world he understood. He knew the routine, he knew the inmates, he knew the guards. He probably knew what he was going to have for his evening meal on the second Thursday of every month. His cell was his prison but it was also his safety. There were elements that transferred across both cases.
She knew that Bryant would struggle with the decision he’d made, but she’d have supported him whichever route he’d chosen. Because she now knew that’s what friends did.
So, the statements had been written, her team had been sent home to enjoy what was left of the weekend and in Bryant’s case go and look for a new car.
The boards in the office had been wiped clean and there was only one thing left to do, she thought, as a figure appeared in the doorway.
‘Come in, Tink, and take a seat.’
Tiffany did as she was asked with a tremulous smile.
Killing Mind: An addictive and nail-biting crime thriller (Detective Kim Stone Crime Thriller Book 12) Page 28