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

by Angela Marsons

‘No, I heard her say she was going to speak to the father but I didn’t hang around for too long in case they caught me.’

  Nicola drew on the cigarette as realisation dawned. ‘There’s a third, isn’t there?’

  They said nothing and allowed her a minute to digest the news.

  ‘Is there anything you can tell us about the ...’

  ‘Louise was the other one. I don’t recall her last name but she was the ringleader; the toughest. No one messed with Louise. Even after the other two had run away –sorry, after the other two had gone – no one dared mess with her.’ She paused for a second. ‘You know, now I think about it, she was insistent that her mates would not have run away.’

  ‘Is there anything about Louise that would help us confirm an identification?’

  Nicola stubbed out the cigarette in a cut glass ashtray. ‘Oh yes. Louise had a denture. Three of her teeth were knocked out in a fight with girls from another school. She hated how she looked without it. One of the other girls at Crestwood hid it one night for a laugh. Louise broke her nose.’

  ‘Do you know anything about an incident involving the daughter of William Payne?’

  Nicola frowned. ‘Oh, you mean the night guy?’ She shook her head. ‘We never saw him very much. I never heard of anything in particular but I remember them being on lockdown for a month for something. But they were always up to mischief of some kind. Still ... they didn’t deserve this.’

  Bryant flipped a page in his notebook. ‘Do you recall much about Tom Curtis?’

  Nicola narrowed her eyes. ‘He was younger than the other staff members. He seemed a bit shy and quite a few of the girls had a crush on him.’ Nicola’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh no, you don’t think he could have been the father of ...’ Her words trailed away as though she couldn’t even finish the thought.

  The idea had crossed Kim's mind but she chose not to respond.

  Kim didn’t feel that Nicola could offer anything further at this point.

  She stood. ‘Thank you for your time, Nicola. Please don’t share this information with anyone until the victims have been formally identified.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Kim headed to the door and turned. ‘Which one went first?’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Who disappeared first, Melanie or Tracy?’ Kim asked. Nicola had already told them that Louise was the last.

  Nicola scrunched her face in thought. ‘Tracy went first because Melanie and Louise thought she’d just disappeared because of the pregnancy.’

  Kim nodded and was halfway out the door.

  ‘Detective ...’

  Kim turned.

  ‘Regardless of what my sister said to you, I’m more than happy to help in any way I can.’

  Kim nodded her thanks and left.

  ‘Where to, Guv?’ Bryant asked.

  Kim’s watch said it was after three o’clock. ‘Head back to the station.’

  She took out her phone and called Dawson.

  ‘Hey, Guv,’ he answered.

  ‘What’s the situation on site, Kev?’

  ‘Second grave is being filled in and Cerys has the third body half uncovered. Doctor Bate is on his way. Because she’s not as far down they’re hoping to have her out by tonight.’

  Kim was aware how hard she’d been working her team. ‘Once the Doc gets there, stand down for the day. There won’t be anything that we can’t get first thing in the morning.’

  ‘Guv, I’d rather stay, if that’s okay.’

  Dawson not taking time off when offered was a first.

  ‘Kev, you okay?’

  Attuned to his voice, she caught the sudden thickness.

  ‘Guv, I’ve watched the bodies of two young girls being removed from this ground so far and if it’s okay with you I’d prefer to see it through.’

  And sometimes he just shocked her.

  ‘Okay, Kev. I’ll give you a call later.’

  She hung up and shook her head.

  ‘Are you really that surprised?’ Bryan asked.

  ‘No. He’s a good kid, if lacking in judgement now and again.’

  ‘And I’d want him on my team any day of the week,’ Bryant concluded.

  The two of them did not often sing from the same hymn sheet but Bryant could be objective when he needed to be.

  Kim got out of the car and Bryant locked it.

  ‘Go check in with Stacey. Put those names on the board.’

  She wanted their anonymity erased as soon as possible. ‘And then get yourself off home.’

  Kim headed towards the bike and paused as she unlocked the helmet.

  Something at Nicola’s had been wrong. There was something gnawing at her gut, something she should have picked up on.

  It was as though her eyes had seen something that her brain hadn’t registered.

  Fifty-Three

  For the second time in one day Kim saw the main entrance of Russells Hall hospital. She pulled the bike onto the pavement area and took her chances on getting a ticket.

  Entering the hospital, she walked through a mixed group of patients and visitors puffing away beneath the ‘No Smoking’ sign.

  She approached the reception desk on her left. A woman, badged as Brenda, smiled up at her.

  ‘Lucy Payne, admitted earlier today?’

  ‘Are you a relative?’

  Kim nodded. ‘Cousin.’

  Brenda hit a few keys on the computer. ‘C5, Medical ward.’

  Kim headed past the café and checked the directory board. She took a lift to the second floor and headed along the west wing, moving aside for a bed being wheeled back from the operating theatre.

  Kim stepped into the ward behind the bed. The area had a gentle buzz of machines and low voices. The prescription trolley crossed from one six bay ward to another.

  Kim could see she had just caught the back end of visiting time. Relatives sat in silence having said everything they could think of and now just waited for the clock to hit the hour.

  She approached the nurse’s station. ‘Lucy Payne?’

  ‘Side ward, second door along.’

  Kim passed the first door which was a tiny kitchen. She reached the second door and her hand was poised to knock. She caught it just before it made contact with the wood.

  Lucy was sleeping peacefully in the huge bed, her head supported by five pillows. A monitor was clipped to her right index finger. A machine beeped rhythmically to her right.

  Atop the tall beside cabinet sat a single ‘Get Well Soon’ card and a stuffed grey teddy bear.

  Kim entered the room and stepped past William Payne who snored lightly from the easy chair in the corner.

  She stood beside the bed and looked down at the sleeping figure. Lucy looked much younger than her fifteen years.

  And yet she had suffered so much. This girl had not asked for this cruel disease that had slowly stolen her strength and mobility and she had not asked for a mother who would abandon her. And she certainly had not asked to be stuffed into a bin by three stupid girls.

  Today Lucy had almost died. She had tried to scream and all that had emerged was silence.

  Despite the life she led this brave, determined girl had fought back. She had clawed her way up from the brink because, quite simply, she wanted to live. That she had managed to press the emergency button on the pendant was a testament to the fact.

  Kim also had not been given high survival odds when she was carried from the high-rise flat on Hollytree. Silent head shakes and deep sighs had accompanied her all the way to the hospital where she was intravenously fed with no real expectation of success. Her six-year-old body weighed a stone and a half. Her hair was falling out in clumps and she was unable to speak. But on day three, she'd sat up.

  Kim took a tissue and wiped a thin line of drool from Lucy’s chin.

  Finally, she understood her affinity with this young girl who she had known only for a few days. Lucy was a fighter. She would not give in to the cards that fate had dealt
her. Every day she struggled to live against odds that were not in her favour.

  Earlier that day she could have chosen not to press the emergency button. She could have submitted to her illness and chosen the path of eventual peace but she had not and only one thing had stopped her. Hope.

  Could this young lady receive a better quality of life than she had now, Kim wondered. Could her existence be made safer and more enjoyable? Kim had no idea, but what she did know was that this tiny slip of a girl had a core of strength and determination that she herself was compelled to admire.

  As Kim placed the tissue on the side cupboard she became attuned to a change behind her as the gentle snoring stopped.

  She didn’t turn. ‘You know that we have to talk?’ she asked softly.

  ‘Yes, Detective, I know,’ William replied, thickly.

  Kim nodded and left the room. It was time to go home.

  She had work to do.

  Fifty-Four

  Beth leafed through a magazine. She had no idea what it was but she was making a point.

  She could feel Nicola's anxiety. They had not spoken since Beth had returned. She knew her sister. Nicola wanted to ask her what was wrong but was scared of the answer. The truth was, she couldn't cope with the answer.

  Nicola had always hated it when people were angry with her. She was a people pleaser. She wanted everyone to be happy. And that trait had cost her. It had cost them both.

  And her eagerness to please was going to cost them again.

  Beth was so angry she could not raise her head. She stared down at the page. Nicola would not be able to hold her tongue for much longer. Beth turned a page nonchalantly.

  ‘Myra spoke to me yesterday,’ Nicola offered. ‘She said you were very rude to her.’

  ‘I was,’ Beth said. If her sister chose to talk to her about inconsequential matters rather than address the real problems between them, that was fine with her. Nicola would break eventually.

  ‘Why do you have to be so mean? The woman has done nothing to you.’

  Beth shrugged. ‘She's a nosey old cow who wants to ger in everybody's business. Why do yer care what she thinks?’

  ‘Because she's my neighbour and I have to live here.’ Nicola paused. ‘Did you tell her I was adding you to the lease?’

  Beth smiled to herself. That little nugget must have kept the bitch awake for hours.

  ‘Yeah, that was me.’

  ‘Are you trying to make my life difficult while you're here?’

  ‘Yer know, Nic. I asked yer to do something and yer ignored me. Yer asked me to be nice to the old hag and I ignored yer. What's the difference?’

  ‘For goodness sake, Beth, I know you're angry with me. Will you just tell me why?’

  Beth smiled inside. She knew her sister so well. She always had.

  She turned another page. ‘Which reason do yer want?’

  ‘Any reason you'll give me. Anything that will stop this silent treatment. You know I hate it when you're angry with me.’

  Oh yes, Beth knew very well.

  ‘I told yer not to talk to her.’

  ‘To who?’ Nicola asked. The question in her voice was forced. Nicola knew well and good who she was talking about.

  She turned another page, knowing it would frustrate her sister even further. Nicola wanted her full attention. She hated that Beth could still sit and focus on something else instead of being completely consumed by the atmosphere between them. As she was.

  ‘You mean the detective?’ Nicola asked.

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘Jesus, Beth, how can you be so cold? They're finding bodies buried where we used to live.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘We knew these girls. We spoke to them, we ate with them. How can you not even care?’

  ‘‘Cos they ain't nothing to me. I didn't even like ‘em, so why should I care now?’

  ‘Because they're dead and whatever they did wrong, they didn't deserve to die. Some monster just put them in the ground and forgot about them. I have to try and help.’

  ‘You're more bothered about them than yer are about me.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  This time the confusion was real. And there it was. They could never move on until Nicola admitted what she'd done.

  ‘Yer knew what they did to me and yer did fuck all about it.’

  ‘Beth, I don't know who did what to you. Tell me.’

  She flicked another page of the magazine and shook her head. ‘Ask the detective, maybe she'll tell yer what yer did ‘cos you're hell bent on gerring yerself involved.’

  ‘Only because I know it is somehow connected to us.’

  Beth's hand stilled in mid-air. The page fell from her grip. That her sister had made that connection was progress in itself. She wanted Nicola to remember. She wanted an apology. She wanted to hear the words she'd waited ten years for.

  But not quite yet.

  ‘I'm telling yer, Nic, leave it alone.’

  ‘But I want it all out in the open.’ Beth heard the emotion in her sister's voice. She didn't look. She couldn't look.

  ‘Beth, I wish I knew what I'd done to hurt you. How I failed you so terribly. You're my sister. There are too many secrets between us. I love you and I just want to know the truth.’

  Beth threw the magazine to the side and stood.

  ‘Nic, be careful what yer wish for ... ‘cos yer might just ger it.’

  Fifty-Five

  Kim had called a late briefing. The intensity of this case was getting to them all. The least she could do was offer her team an extra hour or two of sleep.

  By the time she’d finished updating Woody on current events, Bryant, Stacey and Dawson were at their desks.

  ‘Morning folks, I'm sure you're all aware, but media interest in our case has escalated. The erection of a third tent has provoked a frenzy. It's now front page on every newspaper and there was a talking heads segment on Sky News last night.’

  ‘Yeah, saw it, Guv,’ Bryant groaned.

  ‘I'm sure I don't need to remind you that there is no talking to any members of the press, however persuasive. This case is way too volatile to be derailed by a misquoted comment from any of us.’

  Kim included herself in that statement. She knew her own limitations when being goaded by the press, which was why she'd wisely been kept away from them.

  ‘And if any of you need a reminder of how shit we're doing, feel free to pop to Woody's office and read any one of the articles.’

  Her boss's desk was like a newsagents and during their earlier meeting he'd talked her through every piece.

  ‘Seriously, Guv?’ Dawson asked.

  Kim nodded. It was best they knew they were under attack. ‘Come on, Kev, you know how this works. By day three it's always our fault and we've managed to get to the fifth day since discovering the first set of bones, so I'd say we're doing pretty well.’

  Kim felt the wave of negativity breeze through the room.

  Kim sighed. ‘If media attention is that important to you all you should have chosen a career in showbiz. We're police officers. Nobody likes us.’

  ‘It's a bit soul destroying, though, Guv. Knocks your enthusiasm a bit,’ Stacey said.

  Kim realised that pep talks were not her forte.

  ‘All of you, look at that wall and I mean look at it hard.’

  The whiteboard was much easier on her eye now her girls had names. The board had been divided into three columns:

  Victim 1 - Melanie Harris

  Age - 15

  Taller than average, undernourished, tooth defect, butterfly sock

  Decapitated

  Victim 2 - Tracy Morgan

  Age - 15

  Pregnant, Pyjama bottoms missing

  Buried alive

  Victim 3 - Louise Dunston - ?

  Age - 15

  Denture for top three teeth

  ‘Those three girls lost their lives to a monster. Between them they were raped, beaten, suffoc
ated and buried. This was not a story in a newspaper to them. It was their lives; their reality. We get out of bed every day to find the person who thought they could get away with this crime.

  ‘A few days ago these kids were anonymous, forgotten and silent. But not anymore. Melanie, Tracy and Louise will now have a voice because of us. And make no mistake, we will catch the bastard that did this.’ Kim paused and looked around the room. ‘And if you need any more motivation than that, then you're in the wrong job.’

  ‘Thanks, Guv,’ Bryant said, with a nod.

  ‘On board,’ Stacey added with a smile.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Dawson chimed.

  She took her usual position on the edge of the spare desk. ‘Okay, Kev, site progress?’

  ‘Doctor Dan removed the body about two this morning. Cerys did an initial inspection of the grave but they’re gonna do the sieving this morning.’

  ‘Did the Doc say anything about a denture?’

  ‘Didn’t say much about anything. He’s a very strange character, Guv.’

  ‘Mention it to Cerys. Might still be in the grave.’

  ‘Stace, anything?’

  ‘I’ve now got the mobile phone of Tom Curtis. He ‘ad more than fifty missed calls in the two hours before ‘is death.’

  Kim leaned forward. ‘Go on.’

  ‘All came from Croft's mobile.’

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ Kim seethed. ‘Anything else.’

  ‘The tape from the old folks’ home is useless so we ain’t got nothing incriminating on the death of Mary Andrews.’

  ‘Anything from SOCO on Arthur Connop?’

  ‘Paint chip analysis says it came from an Audi TT on a five nine plate.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Yeah, the actual records of Crestwood from the council are shite. I’m still monitoring Facebook unofficially and ringing round ex-residents officially. Some of the registered runaways were actually there that night and some on the list had left weeks before.’

  Hmm ... Kim thought. Either gross inefficiency on the side of the council or a deliberate attempt to confuse the final record of occupancy. At this point, either option was a possibility.