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

by Angela Marsons

  ‘So, she was just the unlucky one?’ Kim asked.

  He scrunched up his face showing a row of yellowed teeth. ‘She was a funny looking kid. All legs and no meat. She weren't no oil painting.’

  Bryant sat forward. ‘Did you visit her at all once she’d been placed into care?’

  He shook his head. ‘Woulda just made it harder for ‘er. Had to make a clean break. Don't even know where they shoved her. It mighta bin that place being dug up,’ he said, drawing on his cigarette.

  ‘And you didn’t think to contact police to see if one of the victims at Crestwood might be your daughter?’ Kim asked, exasperated. One shred of emotion would have restored her faith in mankind.

  He sat forward. ‘Is Melanie one of the dead ‘uns?’

  Finally, Kim thought, a flicker of interest in the wellbeing of the daughter he abandoned fifteen years ago.

  His expression turned to a frown. ‘It ain't gonna cost me anything, is it?’

  Kim clenched her hands deep into her pockets. There were times she wished she could lock them in there for her own sake.

  Tina returned and handed her father a steaming drink. With the look on her face Kim wouldn’t trust anything in that mug.

  ‘Mr Harris, we are sorry to inform you that pending a formal identification we do suspect that Melanie is one of the girls recently discovered.’

  Brian Harris attempted to look solemn but the selfishness in his eyes won through. ‘See, I gid her up years agoo so it ain't really nothing to do with me.’

  Kim watched as Rhianna walked around the sofa to the cage. She put her fingers through the bars and began pulling on the jowl of the dog, who had nowhere to go. Kim moved sideways and nudged the child away with her right foot. The child moved towards the puppy box but Kim was saved from acting.

  ‘Tina, get her away from there.’

  Tina growled again and stood. She reached for her daughter’s hand and led her to the bedroom. With the child out of the room, Kim could bear it no longer. She couldn’t use her fists but she had other tools available.

  ‘Mr Harris, I’d like to leave you with a picture in your head. A final memory, if you like. Your fifteen-year-old daughter was murdered horrifically. The bones in her foot were smashed so that she couldn’t run away while some sick bastard chopped off her head. She struggled and cried and possibly screamed out for you while the bastard hacked her into bits.’ Kim leaned down into the face of the disgusting excuse for a father. ‘And that information didn’t cost you a damn penny.’

  She looked to Bryant. ‘We’re done.’

  She stepped past him and headed to the door. Bryant followed but hesitated before closing the door behind them. ‘Wait here, I just wanna ask him one more thing.’

  While she waited, Kim realised that hadn’t exactly been textbook practice for informing the family of the death of a loved one. But if she had detected just one ounce of love or attachment, even regret, she would have stuck to the rulebook. She decided that the other families would be notified by someone else. She didn’t trust herself to remain calm if she were faced with such familial indifference again.

  The door to the flat opened again and Kim looked on in shock as her colleague exited the property.

  ‘Bryant, you really have got to be kidding me.’

  Fifty-Eight

  ‘Here, you carry the puppies and I’ll grab the mother.’

  Bryant thrust the box into her arms. The four puppies started moving around and Kim could see that their eyes were open. Just.

  ‘How the hell ...’

  ‘Told him I’d be prepared to overlook the level of criminal activity in his residence on this occasion if he gave me the dogs.’ Bryant followed her down the staircase. ‘But I never said anything about social services.’

  Kim hurried down the rest of the stairs and paused at the car. ‘Erm ... what now Doctor Doolittle?’

  He placed the bitch onto the back seat of the car and the box right beside her. ‘You drive.’

  ‘To where?’ she asked, getting in the car.

  ‘Come on, Guv, you know where I live.’

  ‘Jesus,’ she exclaimed, putting the car into gear. She negotiated her way out of the estate and then managed to take a quick look behind. The bitch was peering over the top of the box. One of the puppies was straining to reach her nose.

  ‘Don’t you ever call me impulsive again, Bryant. What is your missus gonna say about this?’

  He shrugged. ‘Tell me what choice I had.’

  Kim said nothing. Much as they wished to, they knew they were incapable of saving the whole world – but sometimes you just had to deal with what was right in front of you.

  Kim paused at a set of lights.

  ‘Guv, look,’ Bryant said.

  Kim took another look behind. The bitch was licking at the puppy it could reach. The others were trying to claw at the side of the box.

  Five minutes later, she pulled up outside his three-bed semi in Romsley.

  He stepped out of the car. ‘Okay, if you get hold of ...’

  ‘No chance,’ Kim said. ‘You’re on your own with this one.’

  ‘Chicken,’ he said.

  ‘Damn right.’

  Bryant grabbed the lead of the adult dog. She jumped out of the car of her own accord and stood still. Bryant put the box under his left arm and headed to his front door.

  Kim said a silent prayer. Having seen Bryant’s missus in a bad mood she feared she might never see her colleague again. She’d give him ten minutes and then she'd be on her way.

  She took out her mobile and placed a call to social services. She spoke for a few moments and ended the conversation. An ‘at risk’ call from a police officer galvanised an immediate response. A case worker would be knocking on the door within the hour. Kim suspected Tina was lost but Rhianna and the baby had a chance.

  Bryant’s front door opened and he exited. She couldn’t be totally sure, but his limbs appeared to be intact.

  ‘Still married?’ she asked, moving over to the passenger seat.

  ‘Mum and pups are reunited on a blanket by the kitchen radiator. Chicken and rice is on the stove and the missus is on the internet looking up puppy care.’

  ‘You gonna keep them?’

  He nodded. ‘For now, until they’re old enough.’

  ‘How’d you swing that?’

  He shrugged. ‘Told her the truth, Guv,’ he said, simply.

  Kim visualised the dogs in his home being fussed over and spoilt.

  She shook her head with despair. ‘Okay, now drop me off at the station then get to the hospital. One of us needs to be there to question Croft if the opportunity arises.’

  ‘You not coming?’

  Kim shook her head. ‘Probably not a good idea. It may be just paranoia on my part, but I don’t think Mrs Croft likes me all that much.’

  Fifty-Nine

  The roar of the Ninja died as Kim pulled onto the dirt track. She removed the helmet and placed it over the right handlebar.

  She surveyed the site from the top of the hill. Site one and two had been handed back to the landscape and the utility tent had been removed. The heras fencing no longer lined the property and the press had left the area. The police guard was gone and a few bits of equipment were gathered in the top corner of the site. Once again, it was a piece of spare council land where the travelling fair rested annually to entertain the estate.

  Only a few teddy bears and weather-beaten flowers left at the foot of the hill offered any hints to the events of the last few days.

  This part of the investigation was over. The clues from the dead had been uncovered and now it was up to her and her team to fit it all together.

  One day the names of these three girls would be plastered across a Wikipedia page. It would be a link from the main article depicting Black Country history. The triple murder would forever be a blemish on their heritage.

  Readers would skate past the article describing the achievements of the Netherton ch
ain makers who had forged the anchors and chains for the Titanic and the twenty Shire horses that had pulled the one hundred tonne load through the town.

  The metalworking trade that dated back to the sixteenth century would be forgotten in the face of such a sensational headline.

  It would not be a record of the area’s finer moments.

  ‘Thought that might be you, Guv,’ Dawson said, exiting the tent.

  His eyes were being propped up by dark circles. His jeans were dirty and his jumper creased but his hours on site and the commitment to the case had earned him the right to look a little worn.

  Kim wanted to compliment him on a job well done but somehow the words stuck in her throat. Normally the day after she gave him a pat on the back he found some new way to piss her off again.

  ‘Dawson, I’ve gotta say, you frustrate the bloody life out of me. You’re a damn good detective but sometimes you act like a three-year-old.’ She stopped. This wasn’t coming out quite how she’d intended. ‘Look, I know this week has been difficult for you but in spite of that you’ve been a bloody star.’

  Dawson threw back his head and laughed. ‘Thanks, Guv. Coming from you, that means a lot.’

  ‘I mean it, Kev.’

  Their eyes met. He knew it.

  ‘Listen, take tomorrow off. We’ve all worked eight days straight. Saturday morning we’ll spend a few hours over coffee and muffins, Bryant’s shout, analysing what we have, and make an action plan for next week.’

  ‘It’s been a week, Guv. You still framing me for it?’

  She shook her head. ‘Nah, I’m thinking Bryant’s a better fit.’

  She entered the last remaining tent to find Cerys alone at the fold-up table beside the grave.

  ‘Lost all your friends, Cerys?’ Kim asked.

  Cerys turned and smiled. ‘My staff are at the hotel packing up to hit the road. It’s been a full-on week.’

  Kim nodded her agreement. ‘And you?’

  Cerys sighed deeply. ‘Not quite. This grave will be completed in a couple of hours. I don’t think there’s anything left to find. Our third victim was not buried as deep as the others but I like to be thorough.’

  ‘So, you’ll be leaving later?’ Kim asked.

  Cerys shook her head. ‘No. I’ll be here completing the paperwork until quite late.’ She reached for a small Tupperware tub. ‘Beads again, but of course you already knew that. There were remnants of clothing attached to the body but Daniel has those back at the lab. The garment was too delicate to remove on site.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  Cerys pointed to a corner of the grave about one foot square. Her face was drawn and weary. ‘Unless there is something of interest just there then I’m afraid not.’

  ‘Did you find a denture?’

  Cerys frowned. ‘No. Should I have done?’

  ‘It’s the final form of identification I was looking for.’

  ‘It certainly hadn’t come free from the body, if it was in there at all.’

  Damn, without that final piece she couldn’t be sure of the accuracy of Nicola’s identification.

  Kim nodded her understanding and stepped out of the tent. She paused and stepped back in.

  ‘Cerys, are you okay?’

  Cerys turned, either surprised by the question or the person asking. She smiled but it was forced and without warmth.

  ‘You know what, Kim, I honestly don't know. My body is filled with a rage that I just can't shake. See, I don't care what these girls did or didn't do. I only know that they were treated as less than human. They were tortured and put into the ground and left to rot and they were only fucking kids. I want to be there when you catch the bastard that did this. I want to do the exact same things to him and what's worrying is that I feel capable of inflicting the same cruelty.’

  Kim watched as her body deflated. She sometimes forgot that Cerys had not worked many crime scenes and one as harrowing as this was one hell of an initiation.

  The woman looked at her and shook her head. ‘How do you do it, Kim? How do you wake up to this every day without going out of your mind?’

  Kim considered the question. ‘I build stuff. I take a heap of rust and dirt and I build it into something beautiful. I create something that balances the ugliness of what we do. It helps. But do you know what really makes a difference?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The knowledge that I'll catch him.’

  ‘Do you think so?’

  Kim smiled. ‘Oh yes, because my passion to do so far exceeds the energy he'll need to avoid me. I won't stop until he's punished for what he did. And, everything you've done here, every clue you've uncovered, every bone you've removed will help me do that. It's bloody hard, Cerys, but it's worth it.’

  Cerys nodded and smiled. ‘I know and I believe you. You'll get him.’

  ‘Oh, I will. And when I do, I'll give him your regards.’

  Silence settled between them. Kim had nothing more to ask of the woman who had worked tirelessly for days at great cost, both physically and emotionally.

  Kim moved closer and offered her hand. Although the skin was rough in places the grip was gentle and warm.

  ‘Thank you for everything, Cerys, and have a safe journey home. I hope we meet again.’

  Cerys smiled. ‘Same here, Detective.’

  Kim nodded and left the tent.

  She had a denture to find.

  Sixty

  Daniel and Keats were gathered around a folder on the table top when she entered.

  Daniel moved away as Keats turned. ‘Oh, Detective, how lovely to see you.’

  Kim glared at him.

  ‘No, seriously, I mean it. For me, absence has most definitely made my heart grow fonder. I find that my sensitive, delicate nature might actually find your acerbic tongue almost tolerable.’

  ‘Yes, you’ve had quite an easy week of it, haven’t you?’ she asked, raising her eyebrows.

  ‘I have indeed, Detective.’ He began to count on his fingers. ‘I’ve had a double stabbing in Dudley, an elderly male who collapsed into his dinner at his eighty-fifth birthday party and two medical uncertainties. Oh, and the trail of corpses you’ve left in your wake.’

  ‘Happy to fill the time for you but did you manage to ascertain anything remotely useful?’

  He thought for a moment and then shook his head. ‘No, I’ve changed my mind. I now realise that I haven’t missed you at all.’

  ‘Keats,’ she growled.

  ‘I’ve sent the post mortem results to your office this morning. Teresa Wyatt was pushed down under the water, as you already know. There was no major struggle due to the victim already being immersed in water. I detected no other marks on the body and no sign of any sexual assault. She was in reasonably good health for her age.

  ‘I don’t think the manner of death for Tom Curtis was in any question but what I can tell you is that the bottle of whisky would most probably have killed him. His heart was in such poor condition that it’s unlikely he’d have made it to forty-five. Oh, and his last meal was salad and steak. Topside, I think.’

  Kim rolled her eyes.

  ‘With Mary Andrews you most certainly did not get to the church on time and to make any reasonable deduction about death I usually need a body.

  ‘Arthur Connop died of massive internal trauma caused by an altercation with a vehicle. His liver was on borrowed time but his other major organs were pretty healthy for a man of his age.’

  Keats held up his hands, as if to say, that’s all.

  ‘No evidence, no trace, nothing?’

  ‘No, Detective, because you’re not making a TV show. If we had an hour of titillating entertainment to make I may suddenly find that Teresa Wyatt had swallowed a carpet fibre that can be matched to the home of your suspect. I might even find a stray hair on the body of Tom Curtis that miraculously fell from the killer with the root attached. But I am not a mini-series made for television.’

  Kim groaned. She’d had a tooth
abscess that had been less painful than a lecture from Keats. His frown told her that he hadn’t finished quite yet.

  She leaned back against the stainless steel counter and folded her arms.

  ‘How many women did the Yorkshire Ripper murder?’ Keats asked.

  ‘Thirteen,’ Dan answered.

  ‘And how was he caught?’

  ‘By two police officers who arrested him for driving with false number plates,’ she answered.

  ‘So, thirteen bodies later and he still hadn’t been caught by stray hairs and carpet fibres. Therefore, I can only pass on what the body tells me. Any kind of forensic evidence will not take the place of good old police work; deduction, gut instinct and intelligent, practical thinking. Which reminds me, where is Bryant?’

  Kim offered him a look and he turned back to the workbench. Kim saw the label of the white jacket protruding over the collar. She reached over and popped it back inside with her index finger.

  Keats turned. She raised one eyebrow. He smiled and turned back.

  Kim turned to Daniel. ‘Doc, is there a denture?’

  He met her gaze and Kim was struck by the tiredness in his eyes. She knew he had worked at the site until late to remove the body of the third victim. Just as she would have done.

  ‘What, no insults, sarcasm or cutting remarks?’

  She sensed that he was like her. Once questions were posed he demanded answers and didn’t stop until he got them. On a case like this there was no rota, no clocking on and off time. There was only the need to know. She understood.

  She tilted her head and smiled. ‘Nah, Doc. Not today.’

  He held her gaze and smiled back.

  Keats had turned his attention back to the worktop and was flicking through pages in a hardware supplies catalogue.

  ‘There is no denture,’ Daniel stated.

  ‘Damn.’

  ‘But there should be. She has three missing front teeth.’

  Kim sighed heavily. She now had the names of all three girls. This was incontrovertibly Louise’s body.

  ‘Have you checked with Cerys?’ He asked.