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

by Angela Marsons

  The girl smirked and crossed her arms. ‘That’s why I gorra keep me prices high,’

  The cronies sniggered and nudged each other.

  ‘Okay, answer a simple question and you got a deal.’

  ‘I ain't gorra answer no questions ‘cos you ain't gerrin in, bitch.’

  Kim shrugged and began to turn. ‘Fine, I’ll just walk away but at least my way you had a chance.’

  The hesitation lasted a second. ‘Goo on then?’

  Kim turned back and looked into a face eager for money.

  ‘Tell me how much I’d have to pay if I asked for a fifteen per cent discount?’

  Confusion creased the girl’s features. ‘I don't fuckin’ know the ...’

  ‘See, if you went to school, look how much more you’d be able to extort.’ Kim leaned in closer so that their faces were an inch apart. ‘Now get out of the way before I drag you by your nose ring.’

  Kim kept her voice low and allowed her eyes to do the work.

  The girl stared back for a full minute. Kim didn’t blink.

  ‘Come on, girls, this bitch ain’t worth it,’ she said, moving to the left. The posse followed.

  Once the doorway was clear, Kim turned. ‘Hey, lady; a tenner to watch the car.’

  The girl hesitated but a second girl nudged her from behind. ‘Deal,’ she growled.

  Bryant followed her into the shell of a building. Anything of value had been removed, including the ceiling tiles. A seven foot crack travelled from the right hand corner towards the middle of the back wall.

  Three men stood in the opposite corner. They all turned. Two looked instantly panicked and headed past them to the door. Career criminals were like bloodhounds and could smell police from the neighbouring county.

  ‘Something we said, boys?’ Bryant asked.

  One of the boys sucked air through his teeth as a sign of disrespect and Kim shook her head. The feeling was mutual.

  The remaining man Kim recognised from the crematorium on the day they chased the body of Mary Andrews.

  ‘Pastor Wilks, I didn’t recognise you with your clothes on,’ Bryant quipped.

  Victor Wilks smiled with barely concealed tolerance to a comment he must have heard many times. Although Bryant was not far wrong.

  Dressed in robes, Wilks had been an instant figure of reverence, respect, familiarity. Here, in normal surroundings, he looked ordinary, just an average man. Her initial assessment at the crematorium had put him in his late fifties but without the uniform he dropped ten years. The casual clothing of light jeans and blue sweatshirt accentuated a build that was more muscle than fat.

  ‘May I offer you a drink?’ he asked, pointing to a silver urn.

  Kim noted the last two fingers on his right hand. They curled underneath like a hook. It was an injury she'd seen before in bare knuckle fighters. Together with his above average height she was guessing he'd boxed at some point in his life.

  Kim looked at the urn and nudged Bryant, who responded. ‘No thank you, Pastor ... Minister ...’

  ‘Victor, please.’

  ‘What the hell do you do here?’ Kim asked. No sane person would enter this place by choice.

  He smiled. ‘Try to offer hope, Detective. This area is one of the most deprived in the country. I try to show them there is another way. It’s easy to be judgmental but there is good in everyone, you just have to look.’

  Aha, there it is, she thought as his voice changed to sermon mode.

  ‘What’s your success rate?’ Kim asked, irritated. ‘How many of these souls have you saved?’

  ‘I don’t deal in numbers, my dear.’

  ‘Luckily,’ she said, wandering around the room.

  Bryant began to speak about the investigation. ‘We understand that you would visit Crestwood regularly; speak to the girls, conduct short services?’

  ‘That’s correct.’

  ‘We also understand that now and again you would cover for William Payne?’

  ‘That is also correct. All of us offered cover for him now and again. His situation is unenviable, I’m sure you’ll agree. His commitment to his daughter is admirable. He is eternally grateful for the life of Lucy. He cares for her tirelessly. All the staff did their best to support him.’ He thought for a moment then added, ‘well, most of the staff.’

  Kim completed her circuit of the room and stood beside Bryant. ‘Talking of the staff, can you tell us who was there during the time you were involved with Crestwood?’

  Victor walked to the urn and Kim couldn’t help her surprise that the metal instrument had not yet been robbed for scrap.

  He dropped a tea bag into a plastic cup. ‘Richard Croft had just been installed in the position of manager. His role seemed to be primarily administrative. I think his brief was to tighten budgets and improve efficiency. He had very little contact with the girls and that was how he liked it. I always felt that he never quite moved in, that he was in a rush to get the job done, meet his targets and move on.’

  ‘What about Teresa Wyatt?’

  ‘Well of course, there was friction between the two of them. Teresa was passed over for the manager’s job and so was resentful of Richard’s position.’

  Wilks tried to stir flavour out of the tea bag. ‘Teresa was not a particularly warm woman and she and Richard clashed immediately. They hated each other and everyone knew it.’

  All very interesting, Kim thought, but not explanatory of there being two or possibly three dead girls in the ground.

  ‘We believe Teresa had a bit of a temper.’

  Victor shrugged but said nothing.

  ‘Did you see any evidence of it?’

  ‘Not personally, no.’

  ‘But someone else did?’ Kim pushed.

  He hesitated and then opened his hands. ‘I don't see what harm it can do now. Teresa spoke to me about an impending complaint against her. I'd heard whispers that there'd been the occasional slap or push when Teresa's frustration got the better of her but this one was different. She'd actually punched the girl so hard in the stomach she coughed up blood.’

  Kim felt her foot begin to tap. She placed her hand on her knee to keep it still.

  ‘And that was the complaint?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, Teresa wasn't as concerned about the assault as she was about what the complainant was going to infer.’

  ‘Which was?’

  ‘That Teresa Wyatt had beaten the girl up for refusing to have sex.’

  ‘And did she?’

  Victor looked unsure. ‘I don't think so. Teresa was honest with me about the assault. She admitted exactly what she'd done but swore it was not about sex. She knew that such an allegation would destroy her. Such a slur would have stuck to her name like a leech for the rest of her life.’

  Kim closed her eyes and shook her head. The secrets just kept on coming.

  ‘Who was the complainant?’ Kim asked. She would bet her bike, house, and job that it was one of the three.

  ‘She didn't say, Detective. The conversation we had was for her benefit only. She wanted to talk it out to straighten things in her own mind.’

  Of course she did, Kim thought. God forbid Teresa Wyatt would have given any thought to telling the truth.

  ‘What about Tom Curtis?’ Bryant asked.

  Victor had to think for a moment. ‘Oh, you mean the kitchen cook? He was a bit of a quiet one. He didn’t really clash with anyone. A bit of a sheep, I suppose you’d call him. Got himself told off a couple of times for being a bit too familiar with the girls.’

  ‘Really?’ Kim asked.

  ‘He was mid-twenties, the youngest member of staff, so he could relate to them better. Some thought perhaps too well ‒ but it was only rumour, so I’d rather not comment further.’

  ‘But surely you had an opinion.’

  Victor’s face hardened as he held up his right hand. ‘I will not sully the name of a dead man when I myself saw no evidence of impropriety.’

  ‘Inferring th
at others did?’ Kim pushed.

  ‘Not for me to say and I will not speculate.’

  ‘Understood, Victor,’ Bryant soothed. ‘Please continue.’

  ‘Mary Andrews was a no-nonsense type of woman who probably gave the girls the majority of attention. She was firm but loving and available too. It wasn’t just a job to Mary.’

  ‘And Arthur?’

  Victor laughed. ‘Oh, Arthur Connop; I’d almost forgotten about him. A rather unfortunate individual, I always felt. I often wondered what must have happened in his life to make him so bitter and hostile. Strange little man, didn’t like anyone.’

  ‘Particularly William Payne?’ Bryant asked.

  Victor scrunched up his nose. ‘Oh, I don’t think it was anything personal. William is a difficult person to dislike. I think Arthur resented the fact that the rest of the staff did things to help William out now and again. He didn't like anyone getting anything he wasn’t.’

  ‘How did he interact with the girls?’

  ‘Who, Arthur? Not at all. He hated every single one of them. Because of his nature he was an easy target. They would play tricks on him, hide his tools, that kind of thing.’

  ‘Did they play tricks on William?’

  Victor thought for a moment. Something crossed his face but he shook his head.

  ‘Not really, because William worked the night shift so his contact with the girls was minimal.’

  Kim sat forward. There was something he was not telling them.

  ‘What can you tell us about the girls there?’

  He sat back. ‘They weren’t a bad bunch. Some of them were there only temporarily due to some kind of family situation. Some were placed in care following accusations of child abuse. Others stayed until another family member claimed them and a few had no family members at all.’

  ‘Do you remember twin girls; Nicola and Bethany?’

  A smile came to his eyes. ‘Oh yes. They were beautiful little girls. If I remember correctly, Nicola was the more outgoing of the two. Bethany often hid behind her sister and let her do the talking.

  ‘They didn’t mix much with the other girls. I suppose because they had each other.’

  ‘So, there were no problem girls?’ Kim asked. It didn’t sound like any of the children’s homes she’d been in.

  ‘Of course there were tougher girls. Young ladies that could not be reached. There were three girls in particular ... I’m sorry, I don’t remember their names. They were bad enough separately but once they came together they became a tight little group. They fed off each other and caused all kinds of trouble; stealing, smoking, boys. He looked away. ‘And other things.’

  ‘What other things?’ Bryant asked.

  ‘It’s not really for me to say.’

  ‘Did they hurt someone?’ Kim interjected.

  Victor got up and stood at the window. ‘Not so much physically, Detective.’

  ‘How then?’ she asked, looking towards Bryant.

  Victor sighed heavily. ‘They were crueller than most, especially together.’

  ‘What did they do?’ Kim pushed.

  Victor remained at the window. ‘One of the girls lived locally and knew of Lucy. One day the three of them offered to play with the child while William ran some errands.

  ‘Being a completely trusting person, William took the opportunity to go to the supermarket. When he returned barely an hour later the girls were nowhere to be found and neither was Lucy.

  ‘He searched the house from top to bottom.’

  Victor turned and walked back towards them. ‘Do you know where he found her?’

  Kim felt her jaw begin to tighten.

  ‘They had stripped her naked and forced her small body into the rubbish bin. She didn’t have the muscle strength to get out.’ He swallowed. ‘She was stuck in there for over an hour, covered in rubbish and food and her own dirty nappies. The poor little girl was only three years old.’

  Kim felt the nausea rise within her. However far they tried to stretch the fabric of this case it sprang right back to the doorstep of William and Lucy Payne.

  It was time for another chat.

  Forty-Eight

  ‘What the hell is going on here?’ Kim cried as the car pulled up outside the Payne house. Both a responder and an ambulance were parked outside. The rear doors to the ambulance were wide open.

  As she ran around the vehicles two paramedics exited the property with a stretcher.

  The small, fragile figure of Lucy hardly filled the narrow makeshift bed. They carried her as though she were a baby. The atrophy of her limbs was clearer out of the chair. An oxygen mask covered her small face but Kim could see her eyes and the fear that radiated out.

  Kim touched her arm lightly but the paramedics were moving with a sense of urgency to place her in the back of the ambulance.

  William Payne rushed out of the house. His face had been stripped of colour. His eyes were wide and frightened.

  ‘What happened?’ Kim asked.

  ‘She was breathless in the night but she seemed better this morning. I was upstairs changing the beds and she must have had difficulty again but she couldn’t make a sound. She couldn’t alert me.’

  They both stood at the rear of the ambulance as the paramedics fixed the stretcher into position.

  William’s eyes reddened as he fought back the tears. ‘She managed to press the button on the pendant and I heard the sirens in the distance. When I came back down she was turning blue.’ He shook his head as the tears began to fall. His voice was hoarse and terrified. ‘She might die because I couldn’t hear her cry for help.’

  Kim opened her mouth to offer him reassurance but one of the paramedics jumped out of the vehicle.

  ‘Sir, we need to ...’

  ‘I have to go. Please excuse ...’

  Kim nudged him towards the back of the waiting ambulance.

  The doors closed behind him and the ambulance sped away with sirens and lights.

  Kim felt an ache in her throat as she watched the vehicle disappear from view.

  ‘Didn’t look good, eh, Guv?’

  Kim shook her head and crossed the road to the dig site.

  She entered the tent of victim number two. Cerys was on her knees in the pit. She turned and smiled.

  Kim offered her hand. Cerys removed a latex glove and held onto Kim as she stepped out of the pit.

  The hand was warm and soft and coated with the talcum powder from inside the glove.

  Cerys stepped to the head of the pit. ‘I heard sirens. Everything okay?’

  Kim shrugged. There was little point explaining about Lucy. Cerys had no part in that area of the investigation and her own emotional reaction to the young girl did not make sense to Kim herself, never mind trying to explain it to someone else.

  ‘Site one's done, then?’ Kim asked. The first grave had been refilled and pieces of grass placed on top. It looked like a bad hair transplant. That tent had been removed but another had been erected.

  ‘Anything up there?’

  ‘Getting close. Readings indicate that the mass is less than two feet down.’

  Unlike Cerys who, as a scientist, would not assume it to be a body until she saw bone, Kim already knew in her gut that it was the third girl. Now it was just a case of which one was which.

  ‘This one will be signed off later and filled in this afternoon.’

  ‘Anything further?’

  ‘We have the beads,’ she said, moving towards a fold-up trestle table. ‘Eleven of them. And this.’ Cerys held up a plastic bag.

  Kim took it from her and felt the thickness of the fabric.

  ‘I’m guessing flannel,’ Cerys offered.

  ‘Pyjamas?’

  ‘Possibly, but only the top.’

  ‘No bottoms?’

  Cerys shook her head.

  Kim said nothing. The absence of a lower garment put a picture in her head that made her teeth grind together.

  ‘Could have been a different fabric, m
ismatched nightwear, the material may already have decomposed.’

  Kim nodded. She could hope.

  ‘Nothing else?’

  Cerys handed her a Tupperware dish full of mud-encrusted fragments.

  ‘Small pieces of metal but nothing that I think is linked to her murder.’

  ‘What next?’

  Cerys wiped her hands on her jeans. ‘Up to site three, coming?’

  Kim followed to the latest tent.

  ‘Just in time, Guv,’ Dawson said as she entered.

  She looked down at the unmistakeable shape of a foot protruding from the dark earth.

  Seven people within the tent stared down into the shallow grave. It didn’t matter that it was what most of them had expected to find. Each body deserved a moment of respect, a silent declaration of unity when all parties vowed to do their part in bringing the perpetrator to justice.

  Cerys turned to face her. Kim met her gaze. It was haunted but firm.

  Her voice was low and thick as she said what everyone else around them was thinking.

  ‘Kim, you have got to find the bastard who did this.’

  Kim nodded and exited the tent. She had every intention of doing exactly that.

  Forty-Nine

  ‘Guv, I’ve got a message,’ Bryant said as they exited the tent. ‘Doctor Dan has something he wants us to see.’

  Kim said nothing as she headed back down the hill. Bryant started the car and headed towards Russells Hall hospital. He knew when to leave her alone.

  A rage was building inside her. Regardless of what they’d done, these girls had not deserved to die. That someone had felt their lives were disposable sickened her. She had been one of these girls and they had all deserved a fighting chance.

  A poor start in life did not dictate the acts of the future. Kim was a testament to that fact. Her early years had promised a life of crime, drugs, suicide attempts and possibly worse. Every road sign had directed her towards destruction of life, either her own or that of others and yet she had shown two fingers to a pre-determined existence. There was nothing to suggest that her three victims would not have achieved the same.

  Bryant stopped the car outside the main entrance of the hospital.