She was looking down at a blood-covered pink slipper.
CHAPTER NINETY-TWO
Dawson’s torchlight reached her before he did.
‘Jesus, boss, you okay?’
She had shouted his name as loudly as she could.
If the killer was still here, they weren’t going to be able to leave the site. Right now, her only concern was for Lissy.
‘She’s in here somewhere,’ Kim said, holding the slipper tight.
‘Right now, I’m wishing we had a sniffer dog,’ Dawson said.
Kim agreed.
‘Okay, I want to carry on moving through these woods but slowly. And I’m going to call her name. You shine left and I’ll shine right.’
They took two steps forward.
‘Lissy,’ Kim called.
They halted and listened for any response. Nothing.
Three more steps. Dawson jumped as something scooted past him.
‘Calm down. It’s rabbits,’ she said, as though she was some kind of expert.
‘Lissy,’ she called again.
Nothing.
Kim felt the nausea rising in her stomach. Every passing moment told her she would be taking Woody the dead body of his grandchild.
‘Boss,’ Dawson said.
‘I know,’ she whispered. The hope was dying in both of them.
They took four more steps and stopped. Kim could see they were about twenty feet from the end of the woods.
‘Lissy,’ Kim called.
Nothing.
‘Boss, should we—?’
‘Shush,’ she said, grabbing his arm. She had heard something. It was low and faint but it had been a sound.
‘Lissy,’ she called again.
A whisper sent Kim’s heart soaring.
‘Lissy, we’re here,’ Kim called. ‘We’re going to find you.’
Another whisper sounded from her left. She stepped off the path and used her torch to whip at the bramble that was trying to capture her legs.
She raised her feet higher and trampled it down.
‘Lissy, we’re coming, sweetheart.’
No response.
Kim felt the panic take its rightful place in her stomach. If the child was in and out of consciousness she must be in a bad way.
‘Shine that way again, Dawson,’ Kim said urgently.
His torch had swept over something lighter than the foliage around it.
‘Lissy,’ Kim said, heading towards it.
Dawson aimed his torch towards the shape.
‘Oh Jesus,’ Kim exclaimed. Her hand covered her mouth, as her eyes registered the sight on the ground.
CHAPTER NINETY-THREE
‘Sir, please sit back down,’ Stacey said, uncomfortably. On the hierarchical food chain Woody had to eat at least two ranks before he got to her. She couldn’t recall one direct conversation they’d had. And now she was trying to keep him calm.
‘I’m an extra body, Constable. I can help,’ he snapped.
‘Sir, we need to get you checked over by the paramedics.’
‘I’m perfectly fine,’ he said, reminding her of another one of her bosses.
His gait and colour didn’t agree: his step had faltered twice and the whites of his eyes were bloodshot.
‘Sir, I just want to say that I ay comfortable with trying to tell you what to do but you were asked to stay here for your own sake… and Lissy’s,’ she said. She expected a torrent of rage and a few choice words ending in ‘disciplinary hearing’.
‘Where the hell is this backup?’ he snapped.
Stacey took out her phone. Perhaps she could contain him for a few more minutes while they progressed the support team.
She heard Bryant giving instructions to residents outside the door and suddenly wished he’d been given the task of babysitting the big boss.
She dialled into the station. She quickly identified herself and asked for a progress report on the operational order.
She heard the tap of keys. A pause. A second tap of keys.
‘Nothing noted here about a support team.’
Stacey frowned. Normally they would have given her the information within seconds. She clarified the incident number to the operator.
‘I have the incident, Constable,’ the operator responded, shortly. ‘I can see exactly where you are and what you’re doing but there is no operational order in place for backup.’
Stacey swallowed and realised that Woody was watching her very closely.
‘What is it?’ he asked, before she’d ended the call.
‘There’s no order, sir,’ she answered.
His expression gave in to confusion.
‘Did Stone request it?’ he asked.
‘Of course,’ she said.
‘She went directly to Baldwin?’ he asked, swaying to the left.
‘Yes, sir,’ she confirmed as she entered what had to be one of the most awkward conversations she’d ever had.
The realisation seeped into his eyes and was followed by rage. ‘If anything happens to Lissy I will kill that bastard myself.’
He forced himself to a standing position, and Stacey had to reach out and steady him.
She could hear an ambulance siren growing closer. Just a few more minutes and she’d have some help keeping him out of danger.
‘I have to go and help. There’s no one looking for Lissy.’
Stacey understood his panic and compulsion to be out looking, and her boss was now in a vulnerable position. She wanted to let him go and make sure that everyone was safe. Yes, the boss and Kev were out searching alone but Stacey could not imagine any situation whereby a concussed DCI would help her boss at all.
But she was rapidly running out of options. ‘Do you trust her, sir?’ she asked, quietly.
His expression gave her the answer.
‘Then please will you sit back down.’
CHAPTER NINETY-FOUR
The bloodstain coloured the front of the pyjama top, and Kim was reminded of little Tommy and what his grandmother had said. Blood glistened on the leaves.
Her pretty little face held no expression beneath the curly black hair that had been gathered into two bobbles on top of her head.
Dawson knelt down and put two fingers to her neck.
‘Faint, but alive.’
Kim leaned down and touched her cheek gently. ‘It’s all right, Lissy. We’re here now and you’re safe.’
Kim gently lifted up the pyjama top. A knife wound an inch long was still seeping blood slowly. Kim had nothing with which to stem the blood flow, but if she didn’t do something the child was going to die. She had to get her the quarter-mile to the top of the site as quickly as possible, apply pressure to the wound site, and keep the child warm.
Kim took off her jacket and laid it on the ground. She gently moved the child on top of it and wrapped the arms around her waist. She focussed the knot to land on top of the wound, while the back of the jacket offered some warmth. Her own body would have to do the rest.
Once the jacket was fixed in place, she scooped the child up into her arms. It was like holding a large ragdoll.
‘Follow me up, Dawson,’ she said.
‘I’ll take a look around first,’ he said. ‘There might be something left behind.’
Kim nodded her understanding. There could be vital clues around the immediate area that might not still be present when the techs arrived. Dawson was a professional; he knew not to disturb the crime scene too much.
Dawson shone the torch in the direction of the entrance to the woods. Her own torch was in her pocket.
As she hit the tarmac she began to walk quicker. After a couple of seconds, she began to sprint as quickly as she could.
‘It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re going to be fine,’ Kim said as the long incline to the top began to wind to the left.
She increased her speed again. The muscles at the top of her thighs burned but she couldn’t slow down. She prayed that the movement was not causing the ooze to t
urn to a gush but knew that she had to get her to the medics at the top.
Kim could feel no movement against her and she had to wonder if the child was still with her, but she didn’t have the time to check. Doing so would cost her valuable seconds.
Every second seemed to add a kilogramme of weight to Lissy’s frame.
‘Nearly there, sweetheart,’ Kim gasped as she saw the flashing blue lights ahead.
The hill increased in gradient as she neared the top. Something ran in front of her and caused her to stumble. She pitched forward but managed to stop herself falling to the ground.
As she rounded the corner she cried out in pain as the muscles in the top of her arms cramped.
Bryant was still updating the residents but he was the first to see her.
‘Medic,’ he screamed into the caravan as he sprinted past. He placed his arms beneath hers.
‘Let her go, guv. I’ve got her.’
Kim slid her arms out and as soon as the weight was gone they wanted to rise above her head. Her legs buckled but she grabbed onto the steps at the entrance to the caravan.
Two green uniforms came hurtling out of the holiday home.
‘Single stab wound to abdomen: approximately one inch. Heavy blood loss,’ she managed to say.
The one at the back nodded and headed towards where Bryant was carrying her to the ambulance.
She heard him reassuring the child: it gave her hope that Lissy was still alive.
She stepped into the caravan as Woody was pushing himself to stand. His face held more emotion in that one second than she’d seen in three years.
‘We have her, sir,’ Kim said.
She followed his eyes to the bloodstain on her top.
‘She’s alive, barely,’ she said honestly.
‘He began to shake his head. ‘Stone—’
‘Ambulance, sir,’ she said, pointing outside.
She was keeping words to a minimum until her lungs returned to normal.
Stacey reached out to help him as he walked across the room.
He offered her a look that was not unkind but definite.
Stacey nodded and stepped back.
He reached her position by the door. He paused and locked her gaze. She held it for just a second before smiling.
‘I understand, sir. This changes nothing. You like me no more today than you did yesterday.’
An almost smile touched his lips.
‘You’ve got that right, Stone,’ he said before rushing off to find his granddaughter.
Kim collapsed onto the chair beside Stacey.
‘Please tell me someone has briefed the support team on the search?’
‘There isn’t one, boss,’ Stacey said, quietly.
‘What, a search?’ Kim asked, confused. There was still a killer out there somewhere.
‘A support team,’ Stacey clarified.
‘What the hell?’
‘I called dispatch,’ Stacey said. ‘There was no instruction issued. There’s no support team coming.’
The bastard had lied. He had humoured her to get her off the phone.
Kim stood and headed for the door.
If their killer was still on site, Dawson was down there alone.
CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE
Dawson could see that the torchlight was dimming.
His training had included the basic crime scene investigation steps and, despite the conditions, they had to be followed.
First, he had to protect the area. There was no one around yet, but once backup arrived he would place officers at both entrances to the woods. Next he had carried out a preliminary survey and determined the scene boundaries. These were often expanded later by the techs.
The lighting had prevented him exercising the next step effectively. He had used his torch to illuminate the area of blood loss and taken photographs on his phone. He would leave the next stage of sketching the scene to the professionals.
Unfortunately for him, many of the search protocols required more than one person. Line searches were conducted with bodies in a row moving steadily forward. A grid search needed two or more people to overlap separate line searches to form a grid. At one scene he’d witnessed a wheel search where techs began at the centre and worked out in straight lines to the boundary.
As he was alone he had opted for the spiral. He had begun at the point of blood loss and started moving slowly in a circle around it, moving further out on each rotation.
He knew there would be something of the killer here. It just had to be found amongst the foliage, elements and wildlife; it had to be found now. The team being sent by Baldwin would not include techs. They would come later.
Yes, the boss had wanted him to follow her up the hill but this was his moment. He was still trying to claw back ground for his mistake earlier in the week. And the only way he could think of doing so was to do his job. Only better.
Ideally, he would find some single piece of evidence that would prompt the light bulb in his head to illuminate and put it all together. And he could present it neatly to his boss. Now, he just had to find it.
The torch suddenly flickered and died. The total darkness of the woods felt suffocating around him. He shook the torch, trying to bully it into one last burst.
It illuminated an area the size of a football at his feet.
He could hear the boss’s instructions as though she was right beside him. Leave the woods now while you still have enough light. Safety first.
And he knew he should listen but the killer was long gone, and he had a rough idea of the direction of travel to the opening.
He wondered if the killer had been spooked by the sound of the police car engine at the top of the site and had bolted before checking that Lissy was dead. He had probably thought he had done enough to finish her off.
The torch faltered again.
‘Damn it,’ he growled into the darkness as he shook it again.
The torch flickered to life once more as it was knocked clean out of his hands.
CHAPTER NINETY-SIX
Kim jogged away from the caravan, ordering her body to do as she bid. Running uphill, holding a seven-year-old girl, had found muscles she didn’t even know she had.
She tried to shake off the anger at her boss’s boss. Woody would never have done anything so low. He would have said no at the outset and left her to deal with it. She wouldn’t have liked it but she would have formed operational decisions based on the truth.
She would have left Stacey with the occupants and the DCI and brought Bryant to help search, because then her colleague would not now be down there alone.
For all she knew Jason Cross was right there with him. Her stomach reacted the way it always did when her brain linked Jason Cross to the crimes. It reacted against the evidence, and yet it was there. She couldn’t ignore it.
Her speed increased the more she thought about Dawson alone in the woods.
But was it Jason Cross? It was all too neat, all too tidy, and what was his link to the Howard family?
And what about the phones? Who the hell had called Deanna on the night of her murder, and why had the killer taken Deanna’s old phone but not Maxine’s. Who the hell would be prepared to kill innocent children?
And yet she could not explain the fact that Jason Cross’s hair had been found in Deanna’s car.
Suddenly, she slowed as a curtain began to peel back in her mind. Her legs braked to an almost stop as her brain quickened and began fitting pieces together.
‘Oh shit,’ she said into the darkness.
Her legs gathered speed and broke into a full run.
Because now she knew who it was.
CHAPTER NINETY-SEVEN
Dawson felt the nausea rise and burn the back of his throat. The wind had been punched from his body as the form had exploded and thrust him backwards. The searing pain reminded him that he had hit something hard which had momentarily knocked him out. He didn’t know for how long but his hands were now tied behind hi
m.
And his feet were being placed together. Instinct caused him to kick out violently.
‘You should have left when you had the chance.’
He heard the words, as something hard cracked against his right ankle.
He cried out in pain at a voice he didn’t recognise.
The form shone the torch upwards and illuminated the face he had seen taped to the incident board.
‘Anna,’ he said, placing her in the Brightman household.
For a moment he was stunned. His gaze had passed over her unassuming face a hundred times and never once had he considered this. Thoughts began to occur to him.
‘You worked for the families,’ Dawson said into the darkness. ‘That’s how you got close to them all.
‘You called Deanna that night, told her something… ’ His words trailed away as a memory fought its way through his fuddled brain. The phone. ‘You rang Deanna from her own phone. You stole the old one she kept and you called her from it, telling her you’d found it. She met you and dropped you off in Colley Gate. She’d dropped you off there before… ’
‘Deanna was a very generous woman,’ she said.
He blinked in the darkness as though that would clear the fog from around his brain.
‘You were fond of her,’ he said, shocked. ‘It was genuine grief you felt—’
‘Of course it was,’ she said, cracking his left ankle with the torch.
The pain shot up his leg.
‘I’m not a monster,’ she said. ‘Deanna was lovely and I’m sorry she’s dead, but it had to be done.’
Dawson thought about one dead child and a possible second. Oh, she was a monster all right.
‘Why the relatives?’ he asked, trying to keep her talking. The support team had to be close by now.
‘Because that’s who suffer the most. The victims are dead; their pain is gone. Nothing hurts like losing the person you love the most. And you have to carry on living. You don’t get the easy way out. You suffer. Truly suffer.’
‘Luke Sweeney was your son,’ he said.
‘We were vilified for what our boy did. Somehow it was our fault he did it. We didn’t raise him right. Or we should have known what he was going to do. Or we should have stopped it somehow.
Blood Lines Page 27