The DI Hannah Robbins Series: Books 1 - 3 (Boxset) (Detective Hannah Robbins Crime Series)

by Rebecca Bradley

  I had to go in and fight for my role as SIO. I knew more about this investigation than anyone. I had to fight for the respect of my team. I didn’t want to go in and be looked at with sympathy. I had to go in there and take it over and deal with the team up front. With two children already dead and little in the way of leads, we had to work harder. I would work harder.

  I walked to the rear of the building and let myself in through the secure doors where the wide, old, concrete steps wound their way up through the building. The ceilings were high and I always felt comfortable in here. Its battered but large and familiar framework gave me a sense of home. I took the two flights I needed, stopping every few steps for breath as my ribs directed their objection at me. Finally on the floor I needed I turned right instead of left to the incident room. I had a meeting with Catherine Walker scheduled. I had some red tape to cut through before heading back to my team. I wondered how receptive she’d be to having me back. She had seen an opportunity to replace me and she’d taken it, but I couldn’t see a reason for her continued resistance. It would look petty and she was too shrewd to allow herself to look petty. So I would face the music and see how she would react.

  “Ross, where are those witness statements I asked for an hour ago?” Aaron shouted across the incident room. I pushed the door open. The noise of a busy working office halted. All eyes turned to me.

  “Glad to see you’re hard at it and you’ve not decided to have a few days off in my absence.”

  Ross grinned. “Welcome back, boss.” I got the impression I was a welcome distraction from Aaron whom, I imagined, had tried hard to keep the team motivated while I was gone, but didn’t quite hit the right note.

  “Thanks, Ross. It’s good to be back.” And it was. The pain I felt from my ribs was distracting to the point of overwhelming, but the hospital had provided me with some pretty good painkillers so I felt confident that I could cope.

  “Thank God you’re back,” Aaron said, rubbing his eyes where dark shadows had now formed and taken a deep hold. A look that didn’t suit him and one I didn’t often see on him.

  “Glad to see I’ve been missed. I need to see Anthony first, but then we’ll have a team briefing and see where we’re up to.”

  He nodded and leaned back heavily in his chair releasing a deep breath of air.

  I flicked the switch on the kettle before going to find Grey and hoped someone would take the hint.

  Grey was hunched over his desk, a frown creasing his face, shoulders tensed. A cold coffee sat neglected in front of him.

  “Sir?” He looked up, bemused by the familiar but unexpected sound of my voice.

  “Hannah, it’s so good to see you,” he gushed before he could stop himself. He stood quickly, “How are you?”

  “Thank you, sir, I’m good. A bit sore, but I have all my faculties so I’m ready to go. I spoke with Catherine.” Grey raised an eyebrow. “I’m to see how I get on. She’s sending you an email to that effect. That you need to keep an eye on me.” I grimaced at the thought I needed a babysitter during the investigation.

  “I’m glad you’re back.” He looked desperate to let go of the case and being told to watch over me in an email with a paper trail wasn’t his idea of letting go of the job. If it ended badly then the lead officer was going to be under immense scrutiny and Grey worried about his career. If this didn’t go well, it would leave an ugly stain.

  “The case has hit the national press as you’d imagine. They’re screaming for answers. Wanting to know what actions we’re taking to make sure our kids are safe. They’re building up a real furore. The Chief’s not happy and he’s being pushed down in London. This one is being watched from the top down, Hannah.”

  It would be. I’d never seen murders in such quick succession, particularly ones where we had no inkling of possible offenders. Grey was feeling the pressure.

  “What do we have then?” I looked down at his desk where there was an open fire investigation report.

  Grey sat in his chair again. I followed suit and sat opposite. He picked up the preliminary report and talked me through the main points. “The seat of the blast was in the kitchen, an old gas oven which, they state, had to be at least ten years old. It looks as though the ignition was created when Natalie did something to generate a spark. Like lighting a cigarette maybe.” He looked up from the paper he was scanning. “Did she smoke?”

  “Like a chimney.”

  He nodded and continued. “Or flicking a light switch or turning something on at the plug. The fire investigators are suspicious of it and have requested forensic support.”

  “It doesn’t make sense. Why would someone kill two young girls then cause an explosion at the home of one of the child’s parents?”

  “Quite.” He put the paperwork down. “The PM has been done on Allison.”

  My body tensed. It was unreasonable, but I felt remorseful that I’d somehow let her down by not being there. I tucked a stray strand of hair around my ear.

  “Allison was generally fit and well. No signs of alcohol or drug abuse and she was adequately nourished. From the evidence gathered at both PM’s Jack feels the deaths of Allison and Rosie Green are linked.” He reviewed his notes. “The anomaly is that there were no old bruises on Allison, only new ones. It doesn’t look as though she was being hurt over a period of time, but that final day, she took a real pasting.” Grey looked back up at me. “The assault was furious, Hannah. There were bruises everywhere but on her face. What links the girls is that the same pattern is present on Allison’s neck as was on Rosie’s. It’s identical. If we find the item used as a weapon, then we can match it up to the marks around the necks of both girls.”

  “Right, so all we need to do now is find an offender who has murdered a girl from Norwich as well as a local child and potentially set circumstances to create an explosion at the girl’s house after the event.”

  “Not an easy job,” he acknowledged. “But I have faith in you and your team.”

  As I left Grey’s office, I wondered about the lack of conviction he put into his last words.

  36

  Sally looked at the dirty ceiling from her hospital bed. She’d been here since yesterday and she was fed up of staring at it. Balloons and flowers were taking over the room like an attack of triffids, no matter how much the nurses kept telling Sally’s mum she couldn’t bring the flowers in because of recent health and safety regulations. Her mum knew how to go over the top, especially where her children were concerned and it didn’t matter how old she and Alan got, she still fussed over them like an old mother hen. Right now she was ordering her dad about, sending him to get more chairs as there weren’t enough for them to get around the bed.

  While she understood she had to be checked out properly she itched to get back to her home and her job. She didn’t want to be away from the investigation too long. As well as wanting to be on the inquiry, she needed to prove herself a valuable member of the team. She planned to take her exams and go for promotion so she would be in a position where she would bring home a better wage, and with a child killer out there, she was determined to be a part of the team that brought him in and that brought justice for the families. A job like this would provide strong evidence in the promotion process for sergeant. Evidence of her capabilities. Promotions were tough, especially in the current economic climate with the force shrinking in size. So for everything that might go against her, she needed demonstrable investigative abilities in her favour.

  She heard her dad hush her mum and then wander off in search of the chairs which apparently were stacked at the side of the visitors’ toilets near the entrance to the ward. Her mum came back over to her and looked down, holding her hand. This simple gesture made her feel warm and loved. Cared for in a way she couldn’t imagine was possible to feel from such a small touch. She looked up at her mum and saw her chin quivering but her jaw clenched up tight. “Oh, Mum, don’t.” She gave her mum’s hand a gentle squeeze, “I’m okay, look.” Her hand
was gripped hard in return as she watched her mum try and hold on. “Mum?” A single tear escaped, saying a thousand words that her mum refused to speak. Sally gave the grip back just as hard in response. “I love you, Mum,” she whispered.

  The door to the room banged open as her dad pushed through it with the chair in front of him, using it as a battering ram.

  “Owen!” her mum chided, still holding onto Sally.

  “Sorry, love. Why bloody hospitals can’t put a couple of chairs in side rooms I don’t know. Anyway, here now.” He dropped it to the floor at her side, clattering on the hard tiles, and parked himself in the seat. “How are you today, sweetheart? Need anything else bringing in?”

  “I’m good, Dad. Thank you. And if you bring anything else in, I think we’re going to have to call a removal firm just to clear me out.”

  He laughed. “Hey, you’re right there.”

  The door opened again and Tom entered. He looked tired but he smiled when he saw her. Guilt needled her at the warmth of it.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, fine. The doctor said rest for a couple of days then I’ll be fit to go back to work. Come here.” She patted the bed with her spare hand.

  Tom stopped, the smile vanished, his body tensed. She didn’t want this argument again. Her mum must have felt the tension in her hand.

  “Come on, Owen, let’s go and grab a cuppa and come back in a bit.” She squeezed Sally’s hand again.

  “But we’ve just got here.”

  “Owen.” Her tone was sharp.

  “Oh. Okay.” They left with smiles and promised to return after their drink.

  Tom had stood waiting, his face hardening. “How many times do we need to discuss this?”

  “Tom, please, let’s give it a little longer, until we get a strong lead on this case. I need in, it’s important to me, to my career. I won’t take risks.” She didn’t want to beg, but she heard the pleading tone in her own ears. She needed him to understand.

  He moved forward and sat on the bed taking her hand in his own. “You didn’t think it was a risk getting into a work vehicle after visiting a victim’s mother, but look where we are, Sally. Really look.” His eyes left hers and dropped to the bed. “I love you. I love our baby.” His voice softened and he gently touched the hand which stroked her stomach, where life was growing.

  She knew he was right, she should tell Hannah she was pregnant, but something was stopping her. This case, the life growing inside her, gave a sense of urgency to find this killer. She couldn’t tell them yet.

  37

  I returned to my office and read an email from Ethan. Attached were the press reports he’d written. There was nothing helpful, just background on Allison that I already knew. After a briefing with the team and talking through where we were at, I went to see to Evie. With a drink in each hand I pushed my way through her door. Hot tea and coffee sploshed over the rims of the cups as she launched herself at me and threw her arms around my neck.

  “Ohmigod, Hannah! I thought I’d lost you. The report. The explosion. What happened? How are you? Why are you here? Ohmigod!”

  “Evie, breathe. I’m fine, look.” I pulled back out of her grasp keeping my arms wide. Tiny glass fragments had torn into my skin as easily as a knife through sun-warmed butter and the slivers of injured skin shone from my pale face. I looked dishevelled and was carrying around a couple of suitcases under my eyes. Evie looked me up and down and grunted.

  “Fine, huh?”

  “I know.” I sighed as I stepped around her, putting the cups on her desk. “It looks worse than it is though. A few cuts and bruises is all. I’m fine.”

  “So what happened?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been in with Grey who, by the way, looked worse than I do.”

  “Tell me about it. You should have seen the way he looked when he knew you were out of action and the job dropped in his lap; I don’t think it was much to do with concern for you. He doesn’t want his name on the top of an investigation this big. It’s a career changer. He was shitting himself.”

  “I can imagine. He told me the preliminary report from the fire investigators indicates the possibility of arson with intent to endanger life.”

  “You mean someone wanted to blow you up?”

  “It doesn’t look as though it was aimed at Sally or me, but Allison Kirk’s mum, Natalie. A gas leak was created and once Natalie started moving about the house something ignited and… boom. We were lucky it didn’t happen while we were still in there.”

  “Oh, poor Sally. How is she?”

  “I’m not sure; all the doctors have said is they are keeping her in a little longer for observation. I spoke with her though and she seems okay. Keen to return to work.”

  “I can’t wait to see her. You were both so lucky. So what now?”

  “Glad you asked.” I smiled. “You don’t think I brought tea just to get hugged did you?”

  “Mmm.” She sat her skinny frame down on her chair. “Let me have it.”

  “I need you to dig up everything we have on Natalie Kirk. Every place she’s worked, if she ever has, all benefits she’s claiming, all known associates; look through her financials and her social networking life. Go back as far as you can. I need to know everything there is to know about her.”

  “Looking for anything in particular?”

  “Someone wanted her dead. It doesn’t add up and I want to see what part of the picture is incomplete.”

  “Inspector? Inspector!” Ross was shouting.

  I took a couple of strides out of Evie’s office and looked down the corridor in the direction of the incident room. Ross looked exasperated. His usually preened hair was rumpled and he had a manic glint in his eye I often saw when inquiries he was working on gave him some answers.

  “What is it, Ross?”

  “It’s the phone. For you. Forensic submissions unit.”

  “Put it through to my office.” I strode past him. Did we have a lead? Did our killer slip up? I could almost taste the anticipation as I half ran down the corridor.

  I snatched up the phone. “DI Robbins.”

  “Ma’am, it’s Doug Howell from the forensic unit. We have something.”

  ‘Okay, don’t leave me in suspense.”

  “We’ve managed to get a DNA profile from a substance recovered from the first victim, Rosie Green. Lab tests identified it as semen.”

  “Okay.” I twisted myself around my desk and sat.

  “We put the profile into the system, did a speculative search and it came up with a match.”

  My patience was short and my ribs were sore and disturbing my line of thought. Doug was still talking, something about percentages and matches.

  “Who is it, Doug?”

  “Colin Benn.”

  “Date of birth?” I scribbled down what Doug relayed to me.

  “17th September 1965.”

  “And you have the completed report to send me I take it?” The thrill of a name built inside me.

  “It’s coming at you via email as we speak.”

  My machine bleeped and an email from forensic submissions pinged into my inbox. “Okay, thanks, Doug. I appreciate the work you’ve done.”

  “No worries. Anything else you need, let us know.”

  The forensic submission department was backed up. With recent heavy budget cuts there was extra pressure on them to cut back, but with the expectation of no fewer detections, so I thanked him again and hung up. Now I wanted to know who Colin Benn was and how he came into contact with Rosie Green.

  I wanted Benn’s life tipped upside down and to see what fell out, so I input his details into the police computer systems and waited. What kind of prior did this guy have? Why wasn’t he already on our radar for this? That was definitely a question Walker would ask and one the press would be asking too before long.

  I pushed myself out of my chair and shouted out the door for Aaron. I hadn’t had chance to talk to him about my return and his
management of the team in my absence. He was a good solid guy, who knew how to work an investigation and I was lucky to have him. We needed to have that conversation but there wasn’t the time right now. Results were coming back for Benn and they didn’t look good.

  “Shit.”

  “What is it?” Aaron stuck his head around the door, feet still firmly in the incident room.

  “Results have come in from forensics with a DNA match on semen recovered from Rosie. A guy named Colin Benn. I’m looking at a report that identifies him as,” I stared at the computer screen before I spoke again, “Natalie Kirk’s current boyfriend.”

  38

  “What? We haven’t done all the background checks on Natalie yet. Where is he?” Aaron asked, standing square in my doorway now.

  “I don’t know. We have an address. Can you get everyone together in the incident room, see what Evie has managed to collate so far. Once everyone is together, I’ll brief them and we’ll find him. I’ve got to phone the hospital.” I snatched up the handset I had just laid down and dialled. After some misdirections I was put through to the ICU ward. Natalie had a police guard but someone introducing himself as her partner would still get past. The nurse I spoke to, Joan Michaels, said that other than me, Natalie Kirk hadn’t had a single visitor. I thanked her, requested no one be allowed to visit and left my mobile number asking her to let me know if anyone turned up.

  We had him. The piece of shit who had viciously killed two children. This was one of those cases that made your skin crawl and made the evenings when you shut your eyes that much more difficult. But we had him. I sat at my desk and looked across all the paper I had sprawled across it; notes I had made from a couple of calls with Martin and multiple reports from various specialists, crime scene and post-mortem photographs.