Silent Scream: An edge of your seat serial killer thriller Book 1

by Angela Marsons

  Only when the door was closed behind him did he wipe at the bead of sweat behind his ear. His last remaining sliver of pride had prevented him doing so in front of his wife.

  Teresa and Tom were dead and Arthur on his way. Richard wanted to believe that the deaths were coincidental. He had to believe it ... because not believing it could only mean one thing; that he was probably next.

  Forty

  Kim dialled Stacey’s number as Bryant gave their order at the McDonalds drive-thru. It was answered on the second ring.

  ‘Stace, we’re going to need any addresses you’ve got for the ex-occupants of Crestwood ‘cos we are rapidly running out of staff members.’

  ‘Yeah, we heard about that here. Woody’s already been down here looking for yer.’

  ‘Woody’s after me,’ she whispered to Bryant as Stacey tapped her keyboard.

  Bryant grimaced.

  ‘Okay, first one on the list is, oh actually, it’s two of 'em. Twin sisters named Bethany and Nicola Adamson. This address is for Nicola at Brindleyplace in Birmingham.’

  Kim read out the address and Bryant jotted it down.

  ‘Okay, can you work on tracking down that pastor you mentioned before? His name came up again so I think he’s worth a visit. The girls may have talked to him.’

  ‘On it, Guv.’

  ‘Thanks, Stace. Anything from Dawson?’

  ‘Not to me.’

  Kim ended the call.

  ‘We really should have gone back to the station after what happened earlier,’ Bryant said.

  Kim knew full well they should have briefed Woody about the hit-and-run and followed the procedure that accompanies the witnessing of any 'traumatic incident' but on her team they'd never get out the station.

  'I’ll do a report later and go talk to Woody but we’re running out of time. So far we’ve lost four people that worked at Crestwood at the time it closed.’

  She took a bite of the chicken burger. It tasted like a wedge of cardboard placed between two slabs of MDF. She put it aside and took out her mobile phone.

  Dawson answered immediately.

  ‘How’s things?’ she asked.

  ‘Moving along. Cerys is in the pit with her hand tools so we’re not far away from whatever’s down there.’

  Kim could hear the fatigue in his voice. ‘Did you pay a visit to William Payne?’

  ‘Done, Guv. I placed a check call to ADT to make sure the alarm is working. I cleaned and tested the motion sensors front and back which work on a fifteen foot arc. I got him to move a couple of planters away from the fence and change the battery in Lucy’s emergency response pendant, just to be sure.

  ‘Oh, and I’ve briefed every patrolling officer to include Payne’s home in their perimeter checks.’

  Kim smiled. And that was why he was on the team. There were times that managing Dawson was like mothering a toddler. Some days he tried her patience to the limit and others where he did his job; brilliantly.

  ‘Just so you know, Guv. It came over the radio. Arthur Connop died.’

  Kim said nothing. She had known he wasn't going to make it.

  ‘SOCO still have the road closed. You never know, there might be something.’

  Kim ended the call. 'Connop,' she whispered.

  ‘Dead?’ Bryant asked.

  Kim nodded and then sighed. If she was perfectly honest, she was hard pushed to measure the loss of Arthur Connop. His wife had been emphatically disinterested in his whereabouts. No one they’d spoken to had harboured any affection for the man at all, past or present. Perhaps Maureen might feel his loss from the decrease of beer and cobs sold per week but few would seriously mourn his passing.

  Kim would have liked to think that the rude, insufferable man had once been a decent human being who had slowly grown bitter with age but his blatant neglect of his charges ten years ago destroyed the false hope. She suspected that Maureen was right that Arthur had always been selfish and mean ‒ but she now had to wonder if he was more than that. How far would he have gone to cover his tracks?

  As Bryant wiped at his mouth with a paper serviette Kim glanced at the dashboard clock. It was just after three and a lot of paperwork lay ahead at the station. It had already been a long and taxing day and she could always start working through the list of occupants tomorrow. Her body demanded a shower and some rest.

  ‘You want me to head towards that address in Birmingham, then, Guv?’

  She smiled and nodded her head.

  Forty-One

  Covering seventeen acres, Brindleyplace was the largest mixed-use redevelopment in the UK. Canal-side factories and a Victorian school had been renovated in a range of architectural styles.

  The project was started in 1993 and now offered three distinct areas.

  Brindleyplace was an assortment of low-rise buildings offering plush office space, retail units and art galleries while Water’s Edge housed the bars, restaurants and cafes. The residential element sprawled out from Symphony Court.

  ‘Guv, what the hell are we doing wrong?’ Bryant asked as they stood on the fourth floor of the King Edwards Wharf building.

  The door was answered by a slim, athletic woman wearing black leggings and a tight sports top. Her face bore the flush of recent exertion or exercise.

  ‘Nicola Adamson?’

  ‘And you are?’

  Bryant offered his warrant card and introduced them both.

  She stood aside and welcomed them into an open plan penthouse.

  Kim stepped onto beech wooden flooring that stretched all the way to the kitchen area.

  White leather sofas were set diagonally before a wall bearing a large, flatscreen television. Beneath it were various electronic devices recessed into the wall. No wires or cables were evident.

  Spot lights were flush with the ceiling and a couple of down lighters were fixed above a pebble fireplace.

  A glass dining table surrounded by teak chairs signalled the end of the lounge. Just beyond that the laminate ended and stone tiles began.

  Kim would guess she was looking at around 1500 square feet of living space.

  ‘Can I offer you a drink, tea, coffee?’

  Kim nodded. ‘Coffee, as strong as you’ve got.’

  Nicola Adamson smiled openly. ‘That kind of day, Detective?’

  The woman padded into a kitchen formed of white glossy cabinets with accents of brown wood.

  Kim didn’t answer but continued to move around the space. The left side wall was formed entirely of glass, punctuated only by a few circular stone pillars. Beyond was a balcony and without stepping out Kim could see the view of the Brindley Loop Canal.

  Further along the wall of glass Kim saw a treadmill partly obscured by an oriental screen. Well, she reasoned, if you were going to exercise this was surely the way to do it.

  It was an impressive space for a woman in her mid-twenties who was home in the middle of the afternoon.

  ‘What do you do?’ Kim asked, bluntly.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Very nice place you have here. I was just wondering what you did to pay for it.’

  Kim’s tact and diplomacy were somewhere back around eleven a.m. It was growing into a long day and the woman would either answer or she wouldn’t.

  ‘I’m not sure how it's your business as my work is certainly not illegal, but I'm a dancer, an exotic dancer, and I happen to be very good at it.’

  Kim guessed that she probably was. Her movements were naturally graceful and lithe.

  She carried a tray bearing two steaming mugs and a bottle of water. ‘I work at The Roxburgh,’ she said, as though that explained everything and for Kim it did. The club was membership only and provided adult entertainment for professional people. The stringent management ensured few visits from the local constabulary, unlike other clubs in Birmingham city centre.

  ‘You understand why we’re here?’ Bryant asked. Having made the mistake of sitting back on the plush sofa he was now struggling to sit forward before
the furniture swallowed him whole.

  ‘Of course. I’m not sure how much I can help but feel free to ask me anything.’

  ‘How old were you when you were at Crestwood?’

  ‘It wasn't one whole stretch, Detective. My sister and I were in and out of care from the age of two.’

  ‘How old were you in that picture?’ Kim asked of a photo in a silver frame on the small table beside her.

  The features of the two girls were as identical as their clothes. Both wore stiff white school shirts from the free uniform shop. Kim remembered those clothes well and the free taunts that came with them.

  Both wore matching pink cardigans with an embroidered flower motif on the left hand side. Everything was identical but their hair. One had loose flowing blonde locks and the other had theirs tied back in a bobble.

  Nicola reached for the photo and smiled. ‘I remember those cardigans so well. Beth lost hers and would steal mine. It was about the only thing we ever fought over.’

  Bryant opened his mouth but Kim’s expression silenced him. The woman’s face had changed. She was no longer looking into the photo, but past it.

  ‘They may not look much but those cardigans were precious. Mary asked for a couple of volunteers to help wipe down all the paintwork. Beth and I offered because Mary was a good woman who did her best. At the end of the day she gave us a few pounds for our work.’ Nicola finally raised her eyes. Her expression was both sad and wistful.

  ‘You can’t even begin to imagine how we felt. The very next morning we went up into Blackheath, to the market. We spent all day roaming the stalls deciding what to buy and it wasn’t so much the cardigans but that they were ours, from new. Not hand-me-downs from the older girls or used garments from the charity shop. They were new and they were ours.’

  A tear had escaped from Nicola’s right eye. She placed the picture back and wiped at her cheek.

  ‘It sounds silly and you can’t really understand ...’

  ‘Yes, I can,’ Kim said.

  Nicola smiled indulgently and shook her head. ‘No, Detective, you really can’t ...’

  ‘Yes, I really can,’ Kim repeated.

  Nicola met her gaze and held it for just a couple of seconds before nodding her understanding.

  ‘To answer your question, we were fourteen in that photo.’

  Bryant looked to Kim and she gestured for him to continue. ‘Did you spend all your time in care at Crestwood?’ he asked.

  Nicola shook her head. ‘No, our mother was a heroin addict and I’d like to say she tried her best but she didn’t. Until we were twelve it was a mixture of foster homes, children’s homes and our mother getting clean and taking us back. I don’t really remember it all that well.’

  Kim could tell from her eyes that the recollection was no trouble at all.

  ‘But you had each other?’ Kim said, looking at the photo. For six years she had also known that feeling.

  Nicola nodded. ‘Yes, we had each other.’

  ‘Miss Adamson, we have reason to believe that the body we’ve discovered within the grounds is possibly one of the Crestwood occupants.’

  ‘No,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘You’re not serious.’

  ‘Is there anything you can recall about your time there that would help us?’

  Nicola’s eyes were busy as though searching her memories. Neither she nor Bryant spoke.

  Slowly, Nicola began to shake her head. ‘I honestly can’t think of anything. Beth and I kept to ourselves. There is nothing I can offer.’

  ‘How about your sister? Do you think she would be able to help?’

  Nicola shrugged just as Kim’s mobile began to ring. Two seconds later, Bryant’s sounded. They both fumbled and cut off the calls.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ Bryant offered. ‘You were saying?’

  ‘Maybe Beth can recall something. She is staying with me at the moment.’ Nicola checked her watch. ‘She should be home in about half an hour if you’d like to wait.’

  Kim’s phone began to vibrate in her pocket. ‘No, that will be fine,’ she said, standing.

  Bryant followed suit and offered his hand. ‘If you do think of anything, please give us a call.’

  ‘Of course,’ she said, walking them to the door.

  Kim turned, willing to take a long shot. ‘Do you remember any of the girls having a particular fondness for beads?’

  ‘Beads?’

  ‘Perhaps a bracelet?’

  Nicola thought for a moment and then clasped her hand over her mouth.

  ‘Yes, yes, there was a girl called Melanie. She was older than me so I didn’t know her very well. She was one of the “cool” girls, one of the troublemakers.’

  Kim held her breath.

  ‘Yes, now I remember the beads. She gave some to her best friends. They were like a little club.’

  Nicola began to nod her head. ‘Yes, of course, there were three of them. They all had the beads.’

  Kim felt the sinking in her stomach. She was willing to bet that all three of them ran away.

  Forty-Two

  ‘Shit,’ Bryant said as they got into the car.

  Kim felt sick. ‘You thinking what I’m thinking?’

  ‘If it’s that there’s possibly another body to find, then yes.’

  ‘Insert the word probably for possibly and we’re pretty much bang on.’ Kim put the seatbelt on and turned. ‘You wrote those names down, right?’

  Bryant nodded as she took out her phone. He followed suit.

  ‘Two missed calls and a message from Dawson,’ she said.

  ‘Mine are from Woody.’

  They both keyed into their mailboxes. Kim listened to Dawson’s excitable voice and then deleted the message.

  ‘Dawson wants me back at the site straight away.’

  Bryant chuckled. ‘Woody wants me to get you back to the station within the same timeframe and last I heard, talented as you are, you’ve yet to master being in two places at the same time.’ He turned to her. ‘So, Guv, column A or column B?’

  Kim looked at him and raised one eyebrow.

  ‘Yeah, I thought that’s what you were gonna say.’

  Forty-Three

  Bryant pulled the car onto the dirt patch. It had taken forty minutes to travel eight miles from the centre of Birmingham.

  Kim opened the door. ‘Check in with Dawson, make sure he’s okay.’

  ‘Will do, Guv.’

  She trotted to the third tent. The site was beginning to look more like a festival concessions area than a crime scene. She paused at the entrance. She turned and looked down the hill at the middle house and the prisoner within, and gave a little wave. Just in case.

  Cerys turned as she entered.

  Kim looked down into the pit. ‘Where’s she gone?’ she asked, sexing the body without thinking. There was no sure way of knowing this second body was that of a female except for her gut and that was normally good enough for her.

  ‘Dan has the body in the other tent. It was removed about half an hour ago. We’ve had chance to sieve a third of the pit and I thought you might like to know we found more ...’

  ‘Beads,’ Kim finished for her.

  ‘How did you know?’

  Kim shrugged. ‘Anything else?’

  Cerys sighed heavily and nodded slowly. ‘We’ve carried out a full sweep of the site and found ...’

  ‘One more mass,’ Kim interrupted again.

  Cerys placed her right hand on her hip. ‘Shall I just go home now?’

  Kim smiled. ‘Sorry, I’m just tired. One of those days. Will this second area be completed tomorrow?’

  ‘First thing in the morning I’ll get started on the excavation of area three. We haven’t marked it yet. We don’t want to give the vultures a head start,’ Cerys said, meaning the press. ‘We don’t yet know for certain that the third anomaly is another body.’

  Kim felt the certainty in the pit of her stomach.

  ‘The press are watching our every mo
ve so I had the guys complete the sweep and then pack the machine away and keep clear of the area of interest so they don’t get suspicious.’

  ‘How will you know exactly where to dig if you haven’t marked it?’ Kim asked.

  ‘I’ve paced it from the edge of the tent. Trust me, I’ll know.’

  Kim did trust her.

  ‘The good news is that site one can be closed down and filled in tomorrow. I just need to sign it off and the first tent can be removed.’

  ‘Anything else of interest?’

  ‘A few bits of cloth; all labelled, bagged and sent back to the lab. May help with identification.’

  After their meeting with Nicola, Kim guessed it was only going to be the choice of three.

  ‘Anything else?’

  Cerys shook her head and turned away.

  Kim appreciated the woman’s tenacity. She accepted that her own drive grew from something more than the need to solve this case. Try as she might to convince herself that it was no different; it was. She knew the pain of these girls’ past. Not one of them had woken up one day and chosen the future mapped out for them. Their behaviour could not be traced back to an absolute year, month, day and time. It was a progressive journey of peaks and troughs until circumstances eventually stifled hope.

  It was never the big things. Kim remembered only ever being called 'child'. All of them had been called 'child' so the staff didn't have to remember their names.

  Kim understood that her own motivation came out of a need to seek justice for these forgotten kids; that her pace would not slow until she had.

  And she appreciated anyone that tried to keep up with her.

  ‘Hey,’ Kim said, as she reached the exit. ‘Thanks.’

  Cerys smiled.

  Kim headed to the utility tent. Daniel had his back to her but she could see that he and two others were busy labelling plastic bags.

  ‘Hey, Doc, what you got?’

  ‘What – no insults, no abuse?’

  ‘Look, I’m tired but I’m sure I could muster ...’