Scared to Death (A Detective Kay Hunter novel)

by Rachel Amphlett

  The lift doors opened, and Kay stepped back to let a porter pass, his face animated as he chatted with the old man he pushed in a wheelchair. She met his eye, managed a smile, and then pressed the button for the second floor.

  The machinery groaned in protest before the lift began to rise through the building. Kay reached into her bag for her notebook and pen, her eyes skimming the facts she’d jotted down from the short briefing while she formulated her questioning in her mind.

  She snapped the notebook shut as the lift juddered to a halt and the doors opened.

  PC Hazel Aldridge, the Family Liaison Officer, had arrived at the hospital forty minutes after the ambulance, and now sat in a plastic chair in the corridor. She stood as Kay approached.

  ‘Detective.’

  She inclined her head towards the closed door. ‘What’s the latest?’

  ‘The doctor’s with her now,’ said Hazel. ‘They’ve given her a mild sedative, but she’s demanding to go home.’ She shrugged. ‘There’s a relative on the way – her sister.’

  Kay exhaled, and wondered how strong a sedative had been administered by the doctor.

  The longer she had to wait to question Yvonne, the more she worried that events of the past three days would be blurred by grief. She knew some might think of her as heartless, but her priority was to catch a killer.

  ‘How long has he been in there?’

  ‘About ten minutes.’

  At that moment, the door opened, and a tall, broad-shouldered man in a shirt and tie appeared. He took one look at Kay, stepped out into the corridor, and pulled the door shut behind him.

  ‘Detective…?’

  ‘Detective Sergeant Kay Hunter,’ she said, and extended her hand.

  His grip was surprisingly gentle, and Kay relaxed hers to suit.

  ‘How is she holding up?’

  His lips pursed, and then he ran a hand over his closely-shaven head. ‘You can imagine. I’ve given her a sedative to keep her heart rate settled. She’s a little drowsy now. Hopefully she’ll sleep for a few hours.’

  ‘How long do you plan to keep her in?’

  ‘Just for tonight.’

  ‘I need her to answer some preliminary questions.’

  ‘I thought you might.’ He checked over his shoulder towards the closed door, then glanced at his watch and turned to Hazel. ‘What time did her sister expect to be here?’

  ‘She left Dover an hour ago. Given the rush-hour traffic, I expect she’ll be here within the next twenty minutes or so.’

  The doctor sighed. ‘No more than five minutes, all right?’

  ‘Right,’ said Kay. ‘I realise you’re busy, but could you sit in on this with me, just in case we need you?’

  He nodded. ‘I would’ve insisted anyway.’

  ‘I know.’ She gestured towards the door. ‘Lead the way.’

  EIGHT

  The doctor pushed open the door to Yvonne’s room, and stood to one side to let Kay pass.

  The walls seemed to encroach upon the figure swathed amongst blankets in the bed, but as the door clicked shut, Kay was grateful the woman had been allowed some privacy instead of being placed on one of the main wards.

  A lamp affixed to the wall pushed its dull light across the bed and cast a yellowish glow over the pillow, yet couldn’t reach the corners of the room where shadows crept across the tiled floor. A heart monitor pulsed a steady beep, the machine on the far side of the bed blinking red and green lights as it recorded Yvonne’s vital signs.

  ‘How is she, health-wise?’ said Kay.

  ‘Fit and healthy. I understand from her notes that she was a regular at her local gym.’

  Kay picked up the unspoken words. It appeared that Tony Richards could have done with his wife’s healthy discipline.

  She grazed her arm against the doctor’s as she turned, and lowered her voice. ‘What about her husband?’

  ‘We’ve been in touch with the pathologist from the scene. He’ll take care of things from here.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Kay moved closer to the bed, and held her breath as Yvonne’s eyes eased open, then widened.

  A gasp escaped the woman’s lips, before a tear rolled down her cheek.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Richards,’ said Kay.

  The woman coughed, and then tried to raise her head.

  The doctor moved across the room, and moved the pillows to support her. ‘Take it easy, Yvonne. It’s okay to sleep.’

  ‘I’m sorry for your loss today,’ said Kay. She pulled the lone chair from under the curtained window closer to the bed and sat.

  ‘I won’t keep you long,’ she said, and kept her voice low. ‘I understand your sister is on her way, and that you need to rest.’

  Yvonne nodded, and then sniffed. ‘And you have a job to do,’ she said.

  ‘I do, that’s right.’

  ‘You can call me Yvonne.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Did Melanie have a boyfriend?’

  Yvonne shook her head. ‘No. Well – not that I knew about.’ A sad smile crossed her features. ‘Seemed more interested in whatever band was hitting the charts each week than anyone around her.’

  She ran her tongue over her lips.

  Kay reached out for a jug of water and a glass next to the bed. Filling it, she crouched next to the bed, and helped Yvonne take a sip before returning the glass to the small table beside her.

  ‘Thank you.’

  Kay retrieved her notebook. ‘Did she belong to any sports clubs or anything like that? Places she’d go after school?’

  ‘No,’ said Yvonne. Her voice wavered. ‘A bit like her dad in that respect. Liked watching television and playing computer games. Didn’t really like the outdoors much.’

  ‘Did she have a job?’

  ‘She used to come to my office after school and help out some afternoons. Thought it’d give her some good experience.’

  Kay leaned back. ‘When was she seventeen?’

  ‘End of last month,’ said Yvonne. She balled up her fist, and rubbed at her eyes. ‘I can’t believe she’s gone,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t believe they’re both gone.’

  The heart rate monitor skipped a beat, and then increased.

  ‘Detective Hunter?’ The doctor moved from his position in the shadows. ‘I’d like my patient to get some rest now, please.’

  Kay caught his eye. There would be no compromise. ‘Okay.’

  She lowered her gaze to Yvonne. ‘Thank you, Yvonne. I’ll be in touch once you get home.’

  The woman nodded, but Kay couldn’t be sure she’d heard her words. Tears streamed down her face now, and her breath escaped in biting sobs.

  Pushing her way out into the bright corridor, Kay pulled the door shut behind her, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

  ‘Everything okay?’

  She opened her eyes to find Hazel staring at her, concern in her eyes.

  ‘Yes, thanks.’ She gave herself a mental shake. ‘All right. I’m going to head off. Could you let me know once the sister arrives, in case we need to speak to her?’

  ‘Will do.’

  Kay made her way back through the hospital. As she pushed open the double doors that led out to the car park, she inhaled the fresh air, trying to rid her senses of the cloying smell of disinfectant.

  She pulled her mobile phone from her bag, saw that no messages or missed calls had been logged while she’d been talking with Yvonne Richards, and reached for her car keys.

  Aiming the fob at the vehicle as she drew closer, she tossed her bag onto the passenger seat, and sat for a moment, recalling their conversation.

  ‘I’ll find you, you bastard,’ she murmured, and started the engine.

  NINE

  Eli Matthews threw the battered canvas sports bag over the wooden fence, the soft crunch of it hitting the gravel next to the dilapidated garden shed reaching his ears.

  He checked the keys to his moped wer
e tucked safely into his pocket, and then looked both ways in the alley.

  Satisfied that he hadn’t been seen, he hitched himself up onto the palings, and peered through the gloom to the back door of the terraced house.

  No lights shone through the windows, and once satisfied he wouldn’t be seen, he hoisted himself over, landing next to the bag.

  He crouched for a moment, waiting, his eyes picking out the debris that littered the lawn, the stone path overgrown with weeds and cracked from age and neglect.

  Finally, he stood, grabbed the bag, and hurried to the back door. He extracted a key from his jeans pocket, thankful that he’d thought to oil the lock several days ago, and stepped over the threshold into a small kitchen.

  He closed the door, careful not to let the panes of glass rattle in the kitchen window next to it, then removed his boots.

  He was tired now, as all the adrenalin of the past week dissipated and sapped his energy. He fought to keep his wits about him. He had to reach his room without stumbling into her. Especially now.

  He shouldered the canvas bag, clutched his boots in his other hand, and padded across the linoleum floor towards the hallway. An open door to his right led to the living room, which he avoided at all costs. That was her domain, and it wasn’t safe.

  He took a deep breath, and began to climb the stairs. Although carpeted, the fourth and seventh treads housed a formidable squeak. He took long strides over these, and reached the top landing without a noise.

  There, he paused, his ears straining for any sound from the main bedroom at the front of the house.

  He’d considered whether to enter the house by way of the bedroom window at the rear of the property, but discarded the idea almost immediately. He couldn’t risk the neighbours saying something to her, or one of them seeing him in the act. It would raise too many questions he wasn’t prepared to answer.

  He held his breath.

  A faint snore emanated from behind the closed door, and his shoulders relaxed. It would be several hours before she woke now, and with any luck, he’d be gone for the day.

  He’d made the mistake a week ago of walking through the back door, his mind elsewhere, before he realised she was still in the living room.

  She’d launched herself at him, a well-aimed fist catching him on the back of his arm before he’d managed to slam his bedroom door shut.

  He rubbed his hand over the fading bruise, and instead focused on the memories of the past few days.

  He stifled a yawn.

  All in all, it had been a productive week off work. Everything had gone as planned. Better, in fact.

  Much better.

  He reached the door to the back bedroom and pushed it open, slid the brass bolt across the back of it, and dropped the canvas bag onto the threadbare carpet. The room stank; a mustiness that was beginning to permeate his clothing the longer he stayed there, but it would have to do.

  For now.

  There was nowhere else he could go.

  He put his boots next to the door, then wandered over to the window, and opened the smaller of the two panes before he twitched the curtains closed.

  He peeled off his socks, threw them onto a pile of dirty laundry in the corner, and lowered himself to the bed. A smile began to form on his lips, and he closed his eyes before lying back and resting his head on the pillow.

  As sleep began to claim him, his right hand travelled down his chest and stomach to his waistband, then continued under it.

  Yes, it had been a good week off.

  Perhaps he should take a holiday more often.

  TEN

  Kay stood back as a figure appeared through the frosted glass a moment before the front door to her house was yanked open.

  ‘Hey, blue eyes.’

  She smiled, and dropped her keys back into her bag.

  Adam wore one of his old sweaters pulled low over jeans that had seen better days, and clutched a pair of wellington boots in his hand. His hair was wet, the smell of shower gel wafting over the threshold. ‘I didn’t think I’d see you before I left.’

  His tone wasn’t accusatory; it was simply the truth. He was one of two local vets who specialised in livestock and racehorses in the area, and so he often spent his evenings attending various emergencies at nearby farms and villages at short notice. With both of them working long days, it sometimes felt to Kay that they spent most of their time chatting on the doorstep – or in the hallway.

  ‘What is it this time?’ She kissed his cheek, and then pushed the door closed behind her. She shrugged off her jacket, and hung it on the newel post.

  ‘Stables over at Tonbridge. A mare has been having difficulties for the past three months of her pregnancy. She took a turn for the worse tonight.’

  She could hear the weariness in his voice as he crouched and checked through the bag on the floor, making sure he had everything he needed.

  ‘How bad?’

  He shrugged, and scratched the stubble on his chin. ‘Not sure. The owners have a tendency to panic, but we’ll see.’

  She met his eyes, and he bit his lip.

  Only a few weeks ago, they would have made light about the neurotic owners.

  Only a few weeks ago, things had been normal.

  Adam cleared his throat, and then straightened. ‘What about you?’

  ‘We’ve got a nasty one. Kidnapping gone wrong.’

  He closed the gap between them, and tilted her chin up to his. ‘Well, they’ve got the best detective on the case by the sounds of it,’ he said, and kissed her.

  He knew she could never talk about a case, not while it was still open. He also knew how badly the Professional Standards investigation had hit her confidence, especially as it had ended her chances of promotion to detective inspector so brutally.

  And their chances of a family of their own.

  The key piece of evidence that would have put away one of Kent’s most unsavoury characters for life had gone missing a few days before his trial, reducing the case against him to shreds. According to the records, Kay had been the last one to access the locked safe where the small pistol had been kept, and despite her assertions she hadn’t removed it, Angus Larch had thrown every disciplinary action he could at her, culminating in the Professional Standards investigation.

  Kay knew she’d have done the same if faced with the same situation. It didn’t make it any easier to deal with the aftermath, though.

  She bit her lip.

  Adam glanced at his watch, and sighed. ‘We’re like passing ships at the moment, aren’t we?’

  Her mouth quirked. ‘Well, tell all those bloody racehorses to stop shagging, then.’

  He chuckled. ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’

  She smiled, and left him to sit on the stairs and pull on his boots. She slipped off her shoes, picked up her briefcase, and padded along the hallway to the kitchen, then flipped on the light switch as she walked through the door.

  She yelped, and her briefcase hit the tiles with a clatter.

  ‘What is it?’

  Adam’s footsteps pounded along the hall carpet before his head popped round the corner of the door.

  Kay pointed at the glass case on the worktop, its contents writhing.

  ‘There’s a bloody snake in the kitchen.’

  Adam chuckled. ‘Meet Sid,’ he said.

  ‘Sid?’

  Kay looked back at the glass case, and took a step away. She was used to Adam bringing a sick animal home occasionally, but last time it had been a cat expecting a litter they had ended up delivering at two in the morning. Something fluffy. Something normal. ‘How long is he here for?’

  ‘Just a few days. He was taken ill as his owner was leaving for a holiday in Budapest.’

  He cleared the gap between them, and pulled her into a hug. ‘He won’t hurt you. He’s perfectly safe in there.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘I have to go.’

  He kissed her hair, then spun on his heel and rushed from the room.
>
  Kay heard the front door close, and the house fell silent.

  She rubbed at her right eye. It always itched when she was tired, and the investigation was only in its early stages. She knew part of the problem was seeing DCI Larch again, even though it was only a matter of time before they had to work together again.

  She sighed, pushed the thought from her mind, and turned her attention to food.

  She and Adam had got into the habit of cooking meals in large batches so they always had something healthy in the freezer to warm up, and now she pulled out a bag of bolognese, careful to avoid eyeing the contents of the bottom drawer where the snake’s frozen mice had been stashed.

  While she waited for the microwave to work its magic, she flipped through the pages of her notebook, refreshing her knowledge of the facts so far.

  The landline began to ring, closely followed by the cheery ping of the microwave.

  Kay checked her watch and groaned. There could be only one person who would phone at this time of day.

  ‘Hello, Mum.’

  ‘Have you only just got home?’

  Here we go, thought Kay. ‘About half an hour ago.’ She crossed her fingers. ‘Just about to sit down to eat.’

  ‘I think it’s disgusting the hours they make you work, on top of how they’ve been treating you. You should find something else to do. At least that way, you’ll be home for Adam more often.’

  Kay felt sure the grinding of her teeth would be heard down the phone. ‘Mum, I’m tired. I’m not having this conversation now.’

  ‘Look at your sister,’ her mum continued. ‘Nice nine-to-five job, earns twice as much as you, and two kids.’

  ‘Mum—’

  ‘She does what she wants at weekends, has lots of hobbies in the evenings – a life.’

  Kay turned her head, and eyed the cooling bolognese in the microwave. Then her gaze fell to the half-full bottle of pinot noir on the worktop next to it.

  ‘Mum, I’ve got to go. There’s an emergency. Talk soon.’ k'12

  ‘Oh, well, that’s just typical isn’t it? They call you. Why don’t they call someone else?’