Blood Lines

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Blood Lines Page 22

by Angela Marsons


  Kim paused for a moment, examining every inch of the street. She found nothing out of the ordinary.

  Her heart was beating wildly even though she was not exerted in the slightest.

  Calm down, Stone, she told herself as the weakness in her legs developed into a tremble.

  She leaned back against the wall that fronted her property.

  Her head was trying to take control and was insisting that it could have been nothing to do with her at all. It could have been something completely innocent.

  But her gut disagreed. Her gut said that the stranger was Leo and that he had definitely been sent by Alex.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

  For some reason Leo got comfort from watching her. There was a beauty that he hadn’t expected to find. He wasn’t thinking of the natural beauty of her unmade face but of what he saw beyond that. There was a grace, an elegance, to her movement that was poetic yet unapologetic. He felt he could watch her for the rest of his life and not get bored.

  There was a vulnerability when she thought no one was looking. When her face fell into normal repose her default expression appeared to be studious. There was always something running around that busy little mind.

  Watching her had provoked something he had never felt before. It wasn’t in his trousers; he felt nothing for her sexually. He felt nothing for anyone sexually.

  But the feeling was in his stomach. As though somewhere in the ball of darkness was a pinprick of light.

  And it went when he moved away from her house.

  Years ago he may have cherished the feeling, fanned it. But not anymore. Joy and light were now lost to him.

  It was like the delicious torture of a flame against your fingertips, right before it went out.

  It wouldn’t have lasted. It couldn’t have lasted. And she would have disappointed him in the end.

  No one could make him clean.

  He stepped back as her front door opened. The young girl came out, turned right and disappeared from view.

  But she stayed in the doorway. Her eyes looked to the right and then to the left and then right towards where he was standing.

  His breath caught in his throat. She was looking right at him. But she couldn’t be. He had stood in that very spot she stood now and knew his hiding place was secure.

  But her face. Her expression. It was soft, gentle, concerned. A slight frown and drop of the mouth held a question.

  She looked left and right once more before sighing and stepping back inside.

  The door closed behind her, and Leo let the breath escape from his body.

  He would swear she had been looking for him.

  But none of it mattered anymore, he thought, as he took out his phone.

  There was no new message.

  That meant it was time to activate plan B.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  Kim found herself eager to get on with the morning briefing.

  Since learning of the person watching her house the previous night she had not wanted to stay in one place. A restless energy had taken over her body and was propelling her forward. Her gut told her that the mystery man Gemma had mentioned was Leo, and he was not watching her for any reason she would like.

  She paced the walkway between the two sets of desks as she spoke.

  ‘Stace, go,’ she instructed.

  ‘The DNA for Jason Cross is a match. It was definitely his hair in Deanna Brightman’s car.’

  Kim was not surprised by this news. She wondered if their relationship had exceeded that one fumble when his clothes had got dirty.

  She would be stopping by the hospital later to clarify the reason for the man’s suicide attempt. Her earlier call had confirmed that he was alive and conscious if not very communicative.

  ‘Keep at that phone number,’ Kim said, nodding towards the yellow Post-it note. ‘Whoever made that call may have been the last person to speak to Deanna before she died.’

  Stacey nodded. ‘Already sent chasing emails to the networks.’

  ‘Good work,’ Kim said. She turned to Dawson. ‘Kev?’

  ‘Getting nowhere quick,’ he said. ‘But I’ll stay on the Maxine angle. I’m gonna check on the local hostels and drop-in centres,’ he said. ‘Although Maxine wasn’t officially homeless she must have been eating and sleeping somewhere.’

  Kim agreed. ‘Good idea, Kev.’

  Kim ran through her head the things they had learned yesterday and a sudden thought came to mind.

  ‘Stace, find out about the accident that involved Geraldine’s partner. That family is sure having a lot of bad luck recently.’

  ‘Gotcha, boss,’ Stacey said.

  Kim was happy that all parties knew what they were doing. ‘And we are heading over to the hospital to see our kitchen… ’

  ‘No, we’re not.’ Bryant said.

  Kim’s head snapped around.

  ‘Yes, we are.’

  Bryant shook his head. ‘Not unless you want to go against the direct instruction of Baldwin, who states quite clearly in this email that Jason Cross is not to be approached.’

  ‘What the… ?’ Kim came to stand behind Bryant, who scrolled to the top of the message for her benefit.

  She took out her phone and dialled Lloyd House. His assistant, Martha, informed her he was in meetings all morning and could not be disturbed.

  Oh yeah, I’ll bet, she thought, ending the call. She’d see about that.

  She scrolled to the email on her phone and began typing in a reply.

  ‘Guv, what are you doing?’ Bryant asked. ‘This instruction is about as clear as it gets.’

  She half smiled and carried on typing. She read back the text:

  ‘Sorry, Sir, didn’t see your message, am about to enter the ward right now. Will only keep him a minute.’

  She pressed send and counted backwards from ten.

  She got to three when her phone rang. She stepped out of the squad room and into The Bowl.

  ‘Stone, do not enter that ward,’ Baldwin said, without preamble.

  ‘May I ask why not, sir? I’m right here and—’

  ‘This is a direct instruction, Stone. Jason Cross, via his lawyer, has filed police brutality charges against you. He has three broken ribs.’

  Kim’s mouth fell open. ‘I saved his damn life.’

  ‘We know that, Stone. There is not a question that this will be dismissed but right now that piece of paper is a brick wall between you and Jason Cross. Got it?’

  Kim shook her head with disbelief but she knew to ignore this instruction would cost her her job.

  ‘Got it, sir,’ she said, ending the call.

  She shook her head disbelievingly as she recalled the effort she’d put into saving his life. Her shoulders were still holding onto the memory now.

  She knew it was not a serious lawsuit but it had served its purpose as far as Jason Cross was concerned. It had put him beyond her reach.

  She stepped back into the general office and was greeted by a wall of silence. Dawson’s head rested in his hands, Stacey stared at the computer screen, and Bryant looked as though he was about to throw up.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked, looking from one to the other.

  ‘Just heard back from Staffordshire Constabulary. They’ve gor another one,’ Stacey said, still not looking at her.

  She looked to Bryant for clarification.

  His eyes were filled with sadness and his voice was barely a whisper.

  ‘And this one was a child.’

  CHAPTER SEVENTY

  The house they sought lay in a place called Bramshall on the outskirts of Uttoxeter.

  The journey on the M6 had been made in silence. Kim’s aggravation at Jason Cross had paled against the horror of what they’d learned about the death of a seven-year-old boy named Tommy Howard nine months earlier.

  For Kim, the case had taken a dark, sinister turn. Until now the victims had been adult females: different in just about every way possible but fully grown adults
. That they were dealing with someone who could coldly murder a child had both shocked her and chilled her to the bone.

  She had detected a definite lack of emotion in the murder of Deanna Brightman and Maxine Wakeman but perhaps she had been wrong. How did one drive a blade into the flesh of a child?

  ‘Have we underestimated our killer?’ Bryant asked.

  His voice was a sudden intrusion into the solitary rumblings of her mind.

  ‘I don’t know, Bryant, but I know one thing for sure: we certainly don’t understand him.’

  A pall had fallen over them all since Stacey had received the email. She knew that the two colleagues she couldn’t see would be carrying around the weight of young Tommy’s death. And it would stay with them until they found the person responsible. She had left Stacey trying to contact the DI heading the case. Herself and Bryant had wasted no time in heading towards the family residence.

  ‘Not sure where this house is, guv,’ he said, driving past a single storey chapel for the second time. ‘The only thing here is—’

  ‘It is the chapel,’ Kim said, peering closer at a numbered sign to the right of the door.

  They didn’t even consider their normal ‘guess the house price’ game. By silent agreement this was a meeting they wanted to conduct as swiftly as possible.

  The door was opened by an attractive female wearing a floral dress and a short pink cardigan. The white hair was cut in a stylish bob with a blunt fringe. The ageing face held a touch of foundation and powder. A single pearl hung around her neck.

  Kim held up her identification as Bryant introduced them.

  Her expression changed from neutral to hopeful.

  ‘Have you found the person responsible for Thomas’s… ?’ her words trailed away as Kim quickly shook her head. She didn’t want the woman to get false hope.

  Her face settled back to neutral as she stepped aside. ‘Please, come in,’ she said.

  Kim did so and was suddenly hit by the desolation of the property. The furnishings were beautiful and expensive. The stained glass windows had been expertly preserved. She could almost choke on the good taste. But the silence was deafening.

  ‘Beautiful house,’ Bryant observed.

  ‘You think so?’ Barbara Howard asked, surprised. ‘Personally, I hate it,’ she said honestly. ‘Much too big for just me,’ she said, traversing the stone hallway.

  Kim followed, noting the limp that signalled, most likely, a recent hip operation.

  ‘I have a cleaner five days a week and a gardener three days a week, and they care for it much more than I do.’

  ‘But why do you stay?’ Bryant asked, conversationally.

  ‘Memories, officer. Many of my memories are here. I have no wish to restart my life again. I’ve done that already. I’m happy to live amongst the dead until it’s my time.’

  There was no self-pity in the words. Simply facts. This lady was waiting to die.

  ‘Thomas was your grandson?’ Kim asked as they reached a kitchen that would have been lighter and airier if not for an elm tree right outside the window.

  Mrs Howard took the easy chair that faced away from the tree.

  ‘Yes, Inspector. We took custody of Thomas when our daughter died in childbirth.’

  ‘The child’s father?’ Bryant asked.

  ‘Killed in Afghanistan three months before his son was born.’

  Kim nodded her understanding.

  ‘And your husband?’

  Mrs Howard offered her a smile. ‘Inspector, why are you here?’ she asked. ‘Forgive my bluntness but at my age tact and diplomacy matter less.’

  Kim smiled in return. She appreciated directness. It was a trait she possessed herself. She only wished she had Mrs Howard’s grace.

  ‘We are from West Midlands Police, and we are taking a fresh look at the case of your grandson,’ Kim answered.

  ‘Why?’ she asked, simply.

  ‘Because we feel we may have something to add to the current investigation,’ Kim responded.

  ‘I can see in your face that you will reveal nothing more and I shall respect that,’ she said. ‘And as I’ve already explained that I don’t like to waste time, continue with your questions.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Kim said. ‘You were saying about your husband?’

  ‘He died four weeks after our grandson was murdered. He adored that child to distraction, just as he had adored Jennifer.’

  ‘May I ask how your husband died?’ Kim asked. Some of the families were meeting with a lot of bad luck.

  ‘A heart attack, Inspector,’ she said, before glancing outside.

  Kim felt a growing admiration for this stoic woman who had faced more loss than the average person in the last eight years of her life, and there was no plea for sympathy in sight.

  ‘Of course, I loved the child too. He was my grandson but I’m honest enough to admit to some bitterness when we first lost Jennifer.’

  ‘Really?’ Kim asked.

  ‘Oh yes, Inspector. This was supposed to have been our time. My husband worked hard all his life. I feel like the majority of mine was spent wishing away years until retirement so I would finally have my husband to myself for a few years.

  ‘When Jennifer died it almost killed us both, but having Thomas gave us a reason to go on. I suppose he became our reason to live, to help us through the pain and loss of our only child.

  ‘But eventually, as my heart healed around the loss of Jennifer, I found myself yearning for my husband. Unfortunately, my husband didn’t share my view. He retired and poured every ounce of love and attention into Thomas.’

  Kim appreciated the woman speaking so candidly.

  ‘I understand how painful this must be but may we ask about the day Thomas—’

  Mrs Howard held up her hand and nodded. Nine months and she still couldn’t hear certain words in the same sentence as his name.

  ‘It was a school trip to a petting zoo in Uttoxeter. One moment he was there and the next they found his backpack discarded a hundred metres from the picnic area. It was chaos. The zoo was closed down after the initial search proved fruitless. No one knew how to do a full search of the area. Nothing like this had ever happened before. It was thirty minutes until the police were called and another forty-five until a full search was coordinated. Members of the public, zoo staff and teachers were all trampling over the same area.’

  She shook her head. ‘His body was found an hour later in a ditch that served as a border on the other side of the farm.’

  Kim accepted the woman’s silence. It was a day that would play through her head for ever.

  ‘I saw him, you know,’ she said, suddenly. Her eyes were now fixed on the wall ahead. ‘His body seemed smaller than it had when I’d kissed him goodbye no more than three hours earlier. I saw the wound too. So much blood for one wound.’

  She suddenly turned to Kim. ‘Do you know what I remember from that day?’

  ‘What?’ Kim asked, hoarsely.

  ‘The stain on his crisp blue shirt. It was the proportion. The size of the stain to the size of the shirt. Everything about him was small. His body, his clothes, his feet, his arms, his hands. Everything except that stain.’

  Kim felt a shudder run through her. It was not a memory to cherish.

  Kim felt that the link between these murders was getting further and further away. The disparity between her victims was really churning her gut.

  ‘I mean, he was just a little boy. What could he possibly have done to hurt anyone?’

  Kim felt a pang of sympathy for this woman who had so many painful, unanswered questions and no one to share them with.

  ‘Do you not have any other family here, Mrs Howard?’ Kim asked.

  She shook her head. ‘There is only my husband’s sister, and she lives down in your neck of the woods. We’re not close.’

  Kim frowned. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Howard, I assumed this was the area you’d always lived,’ she said. There was no trace of any accent in the woman’s
speech.

  ‘Not at all, Inspector. We are originally from Kidderminster and only moved here following my husband’s retirement last year. In fact, I’m surprised that you didn’t meet my husband during the course of your work.’

  Kim looked again at the grandeur of the house as a feeling began to build in her stomach.

  ‘And what was your husband’s job, Mrs Howard?’

  The woman smiled. ‘I would have thought you would have known that, Inspector. My husband was a Crown Court judge.’

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

  Kim walked slowly to the car. The thoughts were coming thick and fast.

  ‘Damn it,’ she cried, slapping Bryant on the arm.

  ‘Bloody hell, guv,’ he said, startled.

  She stopped and turned as the realisation dawned on her.

  ‘Mrs Howard asked what Tommy could have done to hurt anyone. The answer is nothing. He couldn’t possibly have done.’ She shook her head, angrily. ‘We’ve been looking in the wrong direction for the link. It’s not the victims that are the same, Bryant, it’s their bloody loved ones.’

  He frowned as he considered her words.

  She ploughed on. ‘Look at Deanna, Maxine and little Thomas Howard. They have nothing in common: one male and two females, no similarity in age, sex or background.’

  She felt the stirrings of discovery in her stomach alongside the disgust. Finally, something about this case that made sense.

  She got in the car. ‘The link is the family members.’

  The thoughts were coming thick and fast. She took out her phone. Stacey answered immediately.

  ‘Stace, drop what you’re doing. Focus on the families. Mitchell Brightman is a prosecutor; Geraldine is a psychiatrist who occasionally testified for the CPS; Harold Howard was a judge. I need to know if there is any case that involved these three people.’

  The line went silent for a second, and Kim could picture her colleague looking at the board.

  ‘The family members,’ Stacey breathed.

  ‘Get Kev back to help,’ Kim instructed. If these people were all linked to one case there was the possibility that it wasn’t over yet. More people could be in danger.

 

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