Silence stood between them for a minute and a half. There was a problem here and it needed to be sorted.
‘Okay, call me Kim,’ she instructed.
His head snapped up.
‘Go on. Do it. Call me Kim and then let’s get it out, right here, right now.’
He shook his head. ‘I can’t call you… ’
‘Yes you can,’ she insisted. ‘This conversation is so far away from the disciplinary guidelines and professionalism that we might as well make the most of it. Now call me by my first name.’
She said it as though she’d offered him the first free punch.
He looked from side to side. ‘Okay, Kim… ’ He frowned. ‘I can’t… ’
‘Keep going,’ she urged. ‘I’m not your boss right now so get it off your chest. Let me have it.’
A squad car turned into the station. The officers glanced in their direction, their faces filled with curiosity.
‘Ignore them and just tell me,’ she said.
‘You never work with me. It’s always with Bryant,’ he blurted out. His face registered surprise as though that wasn’t what he’d been expecting to emerge.
Kim was less surprised than he was. ‘Go on.’
‘It’s like a foregone conclusion. You’re with Bryant all the time so you get to see how he works. He gets to impress you. Stacey always manages to produce a data miracle, and I’m just out doing the drudgery of… ’
‘Is that really what you think?’ Kim asked. She suddenly felt like a mother being accused of having favourites.
‘I feel like you don’t trust me to make decisions, to run any part of the investigation. I feel like you just push me out of the way to keep busy.’
Kim shook her head in wonder.
‘Just for a minute, before it hits 5 p.m. and I turn into boss again, I’ll tell you the truth. That is not because of you it’s because of me. Woody likes me to pair up with Bryant. He possesses skills that I do not. People like him far more than they like me. He provides damage limitation. He reduces the complaints that land on Woody’s desk about my behaviour, my attitude, my actions. Not only that, Kev, it works for what we’re trying to achieve.’
His eyebrows drew together. ‘How so?’
‘You have a quality that I’ve not seen very often, and it reminds me of myself. You have the ability to analyse quickly, on your feet. You can swiftly work out what to follow up and what to discard. It makes you invaluable out in the field when questioning witnesses and following potential leads. It’s a sense and it can’t be taught. Do you know what I mean?’
Dawson nodded slowly.
‘You’re out on your own because I trust… trusted you… ’
He looked at her earnestly. ‘I fucked up, boss,’ he said.
She nodded and sighed. ‘Yeah, Kev, you really, really, did.’
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Kim knew that Dawson wanted to say more but she shook her head as they walked across the car park. Now was not the time. Now they had to face the consequences of his actions.
He held the door open for a woman to exit the building. Kim glanced her way and then took a better look. The shoulders were hunched and the pale blonde head was focussed on the floor.
‘Carry on up,’ she said to Dawson, who glanced at the figure and nodded.
‘Kerry,’ she called, striding to catch up with the figure heading towards a parked car.
Kerry Hinton turned, and Kim saw that her face held no colour except for the red ring around her eyes. Exactly how she’d looked on the night of the interview.
Kerry was a thirty-one-year-old wife, mother and teacher and had been the final victim of Martin Copson.
There was no smile but a nod of recognition.
‘How are you doing?’ Kim asked before she could stop herself. It was such an automatic question even when you knew the answer.
Kerry simply shook her head and Kim understood.
‘Identity parade?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ Kerry breathed.
Kim already knew they had the right man in custody; identification was a necessary evil.
‘That must have been hard for you to—’
‘Hard was enduring his penis inside me. Hard was not being able to make him stop. Hard was trying to stay conscious as my head bounced off the ground.’
Kim swallowed. She knew. She had sat with Kerry for three and a half hours immediately after the physical examination.
‘Hard was lying awake every night knowing he was still out there.’
‘I know.’
Kerry frowned. ‘Was it you that caught him?’
Kim nodded.
Kerry clutched her hand. ‘Thank you. I knew it would have been you. That must have taken… ’
‘We only got him because of what you went through, Kerry,’ Kim said, honestly. ‘It was his attack on you that gave us the DNA. You caught him, not me.’
Kim would take little credit in the face of what this woman had endured in both the attack itself, the events that had followed and, moreover, what was yet to come in court.
‘It’s little consolation for what you suffered but, because of you, it will not happen again.’
Kerry opened her mouth to argue but Kim shook her head. ‘Your bravery caught him, Kerry,’ Kim said, squeezing her hand in return. ‘Now leave him here with us. Get your life back. As best you can.’
With one final squeeze Kerry turned and headed towards her husband, waiting in the car.
Kim waited and watched the car disappear from view. There was a part of her that wished she could have done more. She wished she could have erased the whole experience that Kerry had suffered. Put her back to normal. Mend her. But she couldn’t and she had to accept that.
She headed up the stairs and through the squad room without speaking.
Kim was not surprised to see the red light on her phone flashing furiously as she stepped into The Bowl. And she had a pretty good idea who it was.
She ignored it for a minute. He wasn’t going anywhere.
She closed the door behind her and sat down. The red light stopped for two seconds and then started again.
She sat down and turned her back on the squad room. This conversation would be better if she wasn’t looking directly at Dawson.
She picked up the phone. ‘Stone,’ she answered.
‘Inspector, it’s Martha. I have Detective Superintendent Baldwin for you.’
Of course you have, Kim thought as she murmured her understanding.
She closed her eyes in readiness.
‘What the devil is going on over there, Stone?’ his voice boomed into her ear.
She moved the phone slightly away.
‘Sir, would you care to be a bit more… ?’
‘Do not play games with me. I am not DCI Woodward.’
No you certainly ain’t, she thought, opening her eyes.
‘I assume you’re talking about the piece in the Dudley Star?’ she asked.
‘Unless there are some other major fu… mistakes you’ve been making over there.’
Kim wondered why Halesowen had suddenly become ‘over there’.
‘Not that I’m aware of,’ she answered and was tempted to add ‘but give me time’.
‘You know full well that appeals to the public have to follow protocols.’
‘I do,’ she said.
‘You know we have to liaise with the press office about what we can and can’t mention.’
‘I do,’ she repeated.
‘You also know… ’
‘Yes, sir. I know it’s a huge mistake,’ she finished for him.
Her total agreement was very slowly defusing the rage coursing along the phone line. It was difficult to maintain that level of anger when no one was fighting you back.
‘So, who was responsible for this, Stone?’
‘It’s my team,’ she answered, grateful she couldn’t see Dawson’s face right now.
‘And the individual within your team?
’ he pushed.
‘It’s my team, sir,’ she repeated.
‘I want a name, Stone.’
‘Then take mine, sir. It’s… ’
‘Your team. Yes, I get it.’ He paused for a moment and when he spoke his voice was much calmer. ‘Then just explain to me how it happened, Stone.’
‘It was a miscommunication, sir,’ she offered.
‘Tends to happen around you a lot, Stone,’ he said, tersely.
She didn’t answer. The storm had passed.
‘From this point on I want a progress briefing, daily, at 5 p.m. Do you understand?’
She rolled her eyes as he tied her arms and legs firmly behind her back.
‘Do you understand?’ he repeated.
‘Yes, sir,’ she answered before he ended the call.
Kim continued to hold the phone to her ear. She had no doubt that Dawson would be watching her every move from the squad room and would want to read the expression on her face the second she turned around.
She wasn’t ready for him to see her face quite yet. It still bore the marks of having been verbally spanked by her temporary boss, who just happened to be her boss’s boss.
But it was more than that. Like Baldwin, her anger had faded, even the pool of disappointment had dried but there was a residue that felt like hurt. There was a part of her that had taken Dawson’s actions personally, as a direct betrayal, and she needed a moment to put that out of her mind. That was her problem not his.
She took a few deep breaths and replaced the receiver. She immediately stood and headed into the squad room.
‘Okay, what have we got?’ she asked, standing next to the coffee machine.
‘Seventeen walk-in leads and one hundred and twenty-six phone calls,’ Dawson said, regretfully.
Kim folded her arms and counted down in her head. Three… two… one…
‘Pass some here,’ Bryant said.
Stacey’s hand shot across the desk clicking her fingers. ‘And here.’
Finally, Kim took a step forward. ‘Yeah, and I’ll take a few as well.’
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Ruth chuckled as Elenya read the sentence for the second time.
‘No, that says rhubarb not rahubarb,’ she explained, pronouncing it as Elenya kept saying it.
‘But that makes nonsense,’ Elenya said, making Ruth laugh more. Elenya threw the book down in frustration.
Ruth checked the clock on the wall. It was seven thirty. ‘We have fifteen more minutes before lock-up. We can finish this page.’
Elenya sighed dramatically and reached for the book.
The feeling of unease had still not left her but spending time with Elenya had distracted her. She had looked for clues everywhere, but had found nothing.
As Elenya continued to read, Ruth glanced around the room.
‘The princess did not know that the frog… ’
A few groups chatted on the periphery and a couple of singles were reading or just staring at the soundless television on a bracket in the corner. The volume remote had disappeared weeks ago and the guards wouldn’t allow anyone to try and reach it to turn it up manually. Health and Safety risk.
‘She leaned down and kissed the frog… ugh,’ Elenya said.
Few of them watched the television when there was the opportunity for socialising. Most prisoners had a television in their cell which they rented for a nominal fee each week so as not to cost the taxpayer.
‘The frog hoped—’
‘Hopped,’ Ruth corrected, as she watched a group of women gather around a short Asian female who looked petrified, while pushing herself back against the wall. No one touched her but Ruth watched as she slid to the ground.
‘Guard,’ Manny called. ‘Kid’s passed out.’
Manny was one of the toughest females in the prison. Her name was Amanda but she preferred Manny. At five feet eleven no one argued with her. She ran the kitchen with an iron fist.
Ruth was no longer listening to her companion reading as the guard ran towards the young girl who was flat out on the ground.
‘What’s this word?’ Elenya asked, reclaiming her attention.
Ruth looked to where her finger was pointing but a whoosh of air startled her.
Dark shadows had appeared to the left, right and behind them. Ruth immediately checked herself for pain and realised it wasn’t her.
Manny’s hand was wrapped tightly in Elenya’s hair.
‘Give it back, bitch,’ Manny said, turning her hand another ninety degrees.
‘I don’t have—’
‘You took something; now give it the fuck back and no one will get hurt.’
Elenya looked to her imploringly. ‘B… but… I don’t… ’
Manny pulled at the hair again. Elenya let out a small cry. Ruth looked to the guard who was tending to the girl on the floor.
Ruth made to stand up. She could try and get the guard’s attention. A firm hand on her shoulder pushed her back down.
‘You’re not involved yet, love, but you could be,’ Manny said, menacingly.
Ruth looked to her friend. Tears were seeping out of the corner of her eyes, even though she had them scrunched shut in pain.
‘Elenya,’ Ruth said.
Elenya shook her head. ‘I swear I didn’t take… ’
Ruth believed her. Elenya had been waiting months to get a spot in the kitchen. She wouldn’t risk it by doing something so blatantly stupid.
‘Linda saw you slip something into your pocket, so don’t lie,’ Manny said with another little tug. ‘Just give back whatever it was and we’ll leave you alone.’
Ruth couldn’t help but note how the atmosphere could change. One minute she and Elenya had been minding their own business, chuckling away on the periphery, and now they were the star attraction. The terror around them was palpable. You could never forget where you were. Not even for a minute.
‘I swear, I didn’t,’ Elenya cried, desperately. She tried to shake her head but Manny’s grip was tight.
‘Ladies, is everything okay over there?’ the guard asked. Her voice grew louder, which told Ruth she was heading towards them despite the fact she couldn’t see the woman beyond the wall of heavies. The one closest to her looked to Manny for instruction.
‘I will find out, bitch,’ Manny whispered, before loosening the hair and smacking Elenya hard on the back of the head.
‘Everything’s okay, officer,’ Manny said, pleasantly, as the wall dispersed.
The guard looked to Elenya whose eyes were still red and watery. Elenya nodded quickly. The guard looked to her again. She hesitated before nodding her agreement.
Somehow acquiescence seemed like the wrong thing to do. And yet she wasn’t sure what choice she had.
The guard gave them one more look. She wasn’t stupid. She was aware that something had occurred but, without anyone willing to speak up, there was little she could do.
As the guard walked away Ruth wondered if she’d had some kind of sixth sense this was going to happen. That this had been the reason for her growing unease during the week. And now the anxiety would fade.
She hoped so.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Barney finished his evening meal and then looked to her for guidance. Most nights she was already changed and on her way into the garage, but tonight she wasn’t so sure.
Normally the assortment of bike parts would ease her brain away from the case she was working. The puzzle of the parts would replace the puzzle in her mind.
She was still bothered by two key things: the complete disparity in her victims and what appeared to be the complete absence of emotion in the attack.
She had been called to murder scenes where the rage had been palpable. The number of wounds, different depths and lengths signalling a frenzy. Others where the wounds inflicted had been slow and deliberate, precise, to prolong the enjoyment. Other times there had been clues in the wound site, around the genital area. But this killer was giving her nothing. One
single stab wound to each of the victims. It was characterless, almost banal. The killer was not trying to tell her anything. There were no messages in the attack for her to find.
Her thoughts drifted back to Dawson, who was probably still at his desk wading through the numerous leads that would now haunt them to the end of the case. The volume would slow but they would continue to dribble in until an arrest was made. With what they had now Kim couldn’t even imagine when that might be.
Her earlier feelings towards her colleague had dulled but not disappeared. They had all hit the phones to help him, but when he had asked for them to leave him to it she had given the nod to both Bryant and Stacey. She hoped the lesson had been learned.
And then there was Alex.
No matter how much she wished otherwise her meeting with Alex, and the woman’s involvement with her mother, just would not go away. Bryant’s words of warning still sprung up like signposts in her mind.
Since their episode on the canal side Kim had convinced herself that Alex did not know her as well as she’d thought. A twenty-minute meeting had already shaken the foundations of that belief.
She should not have been surprised at the audacity of the woman presuming to be her and communicating with her mother. Their last encounter had taught her there were no boundaries with Alex. The only thing that consumed the woman were her own wants and needs. And that raised another question: what more did Alex want with her? She had tried to break Kim once and had failed. So what now? And what did her mother have that Kim would want?
‘Damn it,’ Kim said aloud. Because, despite Bryant’s countless warnings, she now had no choice but to find out.
CHAPTER FIFTY
He stepped back as the garage door opened.
She wheeled out the bike that he had watched her wheel in only an hour before. The helmet dangled from the handlebar. This time her face was exposed. For a moment he was transfixed by her expression. He tried to look away but couldn’t. There was a beauty in her that he hadn’t expected.
She paused and took a breath before reaching for the helmet.
There was indecision in her movement. He sensed that there was a force driving her forward and yet something holding her back too.
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