Tentative friendship sealed; Albert reached for the bottle. He drew in a long gulp, and then coughed as the instant warmth spread down to his belly. ‘It’s been a while since I had the good stuff,’ he said, handing the bottle back.
The man shook his head a little, ‘Nah, you keep it, mate. I really need to get back to the Mrs before she blows a gasket. I’m John by the way.’
‘Albert.’ He nodded slightly, keeping a tight grip on the bottle.
‘See you around, Albert. Might start coming here on occasion if you don’t mind the company?’
‘Not at all, laddo. Thanks for the drink.’
He watched John walk away, before opening the bottle and greedily taking another long drink. He felt his eyes start to droop slightly, and carefully put the bottle under his coat.
Nice lad, that. And after that final thought, he drifted off to sleep.
Cass’s Cottage – 30 September
‘Well if that’s what you think then no problem. I’ll pick him up tomorrow afternoon. Thank you, Matt.’
Cass put the mobile back in her pocket and pushed open the cottage door. She was immediately hit by the smell of baking, the sweet aroma leading her straight to the kitchen.
‘Mama, you’re here! I thought you weren’t arriving until tomorrow. You should have called me. I would’ve picked you up from the train station.’
She waited for her mum to put the spoon of butter icing down on the counter, then threw her arms around her mum’s ample form. Cass breathed in the smell of her mum’s perfume and allowed herself to feel like a child again, just for a minute. Her mum pushed her back and held her at arm’s length, looking at her in concern.
‘Cassandra Meredith Hunt, you ‘ve lost so much weight you’re positively skinny! Have you been eating properly? How’s the pup?’
‘Ma,’ groaned Cass with a grin. ‘He’s OK, coming home tomorrow. Matt says he’s still a little weak so not to walk him too far but he’s going to be OK. We need to see if he has any more seizures and if he does then he’ll be put on epilepsy medication.’
Her voice softened, and she added, ‘I’m glad you’re here, Mama. I’ve missed you. How’s Roger?’
Her mother blushed slightly, ‘Oh he’s wonderful. As usual. I still can’t believe I managed to find him. After all this time.’
Roger was her mother’s school sweetheart. They’d dated all the way through senior school then had attended different colleges and drifted apart. Rose Peters had met Cass’s father in college, they’d dated and then she’d fallen pregnant quite quickly with Cass. Her father had insisted they get married, it was the ‘done thing’ in those days, and then when Cass was tiny her dad had proceeded to run off with another woman, leaving Rose to raise Cass on her own.
Rose was the first to say how hard it had been, working part-time to make ends meet, and running around after a toddler with no additional family support. But she’d done it. Even if Rose couldn’t afford a pair of tights, she’d always made sure Cass never wanted for anything.
Roger had lost his wife in a tragic car accident and was on a downward spiral when he had noticed Rose in the bar a few years earlier. They had talked, and within weeks were living together. Cass had been a very happy maid of honour at their wedding a few years back. The best part for Cass though, was knowing that Roger would always take care of her mum, no matter what happened. He was Managing Director of a large transport company so always had the funds to spoil her and make her feel special. And Rose felt very special; not a day went by when she wasn’t grateful for reconnecting with Roger and for all that represented. She acknowledged all the time that she wouldn’t care if he had no money and maintained part-time work in a call centre to keep her independence.
‘I’m going to go jump in the shower, Mama, it’s been a long day. Have you baked something yum for tea or shall I go pick us up some takeout?’
‘Home-made corned beef pie, with mash and peas. That OK?’
‘Mum. I love you. You’re the best.’
Cass was still smiling at her mum cooking her favourite meal as she headed down the hall towards the stairs. She had no sooner put her foot on the first step when she heard a loud knock at the door.
As she pulled the door open, Alex was on the threshold, a tin of shortbread and bunch of flowers in his hand.
‘Alex, you’re back. How was your trip?’
‘Great yeah, Mary and Violet are both doing well and are home now. Mum’s rushing about like a very proud blue-arsed fly. How’s you? Where’s Ollie?’ he asked, looking past her for the dog. He pulled out a large bone from behind his back and smiled. ‘I had the butcher cut him the best bone.’
Cass swallowed a little, still upset that Ollie was in the vets, and touched by Alex’s sweetness of thinking of him.
‘He’s at the vets – I came home on Sunday and he was having a seizure. He’s OK, comes home tomorrow. I’ll put the bone in the freezer. You coming in?’
‘Yea sure. Something smells good.’
The kitchen door swung open, and Rose popped her head out shouting ‘Cass,’
Her voice lowered as she noticed Cass in the hall. ‘Oh, you’re there. I thought you were going in the shower? I was just going to ask where your masher is.’
She paused and directed her gaze towards Alex. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she quickly assessed him. ‘I’m Rose, Cass’s mum. And you are?’
‘Alex McKay, ma’am. A colleague from work.’
‘Ma’am is what they call the Queen. I’m not her. Rose is fine,’ she paused then added, ‘Cass doesn’t have colleagues over. Is something wrong?’
‘No, I was just bringing Ollie a bone. Cass told me he was feeling under the weather,’ said Alex in what he thought was a smooth response.
‘Funny that, didn’t realise the dog was allowed shortbread and flowers too.’
Rose paused a moment, watching as Cass’s cheeks filled with heat. Well well, my daughter likes this guy.
‘I’m just messing, Alex. Come on in, I’m about to dish up dinner. I presume you like corned beef pie, mash and peas?’
Alex smiled broadly as Rose retreated back into the kitchen.
‘I like your mum.’
‘She’s great – I’ll kill her later though. Teasing you like that.’
‘It’s fine, she reminds me a little of my mum. Sharp wit. You sure you don’t mind me staying for dinner?’
Cass shook her head, took the bone off Alex, and headed into the kitchen.
Chapter Fifteen
Ryhope Police Station – 1 October
‘Mum, I said I shouldn’t be late tonight. Stop fussing over Ollie.’ Cass paused, slightly frustrated as her mother rambled on down the phone. She frowned as she took in her next sentence. ‘He’s not allowed on the couch! He knows he’s not allowed, Mum. Please shove him off. You’re pandering to him.’
Alex knocked lightly on the door, giving her a smile as she motioned him towards the chair in her office.
‘Mum, last time. Don’t let the dog on the couch. He has two beds of his own and he sleeps on them quite happily. And stop feeding him chicken! He has his own food; he does not need people food!’
Her mother once again spoke down the earpiece, and Cass sighed as she said, ‘Yeah, I love you too. I’ll see you tonight.’
‘Mothers,’ she muttered, looking up with a grin at Alex.
‘That’s what mums do I guess,’ his mind wandering to his own mum for a moment. There was nothing she loved more than the house full of her brood and comfort food cooking on the stove.
‘Families are strange. I know my mum frustrates me, but we are so close. I can’t ever imagine her just not being there.’
‘Yeah I know what you mean. I’m the oldest of eight. My mum’s the glue that holds us all together. When Dad died, we all leant on her, and through her grief she managed to support us and hold every one of us as we cried. I can’t imagine anything being so bad that we’d just walk away.’
‘How come you m
oved away?’
Alex paused, trying to formulate his words. His relationship had ended badly, but he didn’t like to badmouth Helen. It wasn’t her fault he was so focused on his career. He knew it had ended because of him.
‘Helen’s family live in Sunderland. Her job was down here, all her friends. We decided here would be the best place to start our lives together. After we split up I guess I always thought I’d go home eventually, but that day just hasn’t arrived yet.’
‘You moved down here for Helen? Because it made her happy and it was what she wanted? You must miss your family a lot, Alex.’
Alex coughed a little, clearing his throat. He often tried to convince himself he stayed for the job, but he knew deep down the real reason he hadn’t moved back to Edinburgh was that he felt like a failure. As much as he loved every member of his family, they were all married with kids, except himself and Ali. Alex had sacrificed any chance of that when he had pushed Helen away by choosing his job over her. And in those rare moments of clarity that suddenly occur when a light bulb goes off, he was ashamed. No woman should ever be second best to a job. His mother had taught him to respect women, and his dad, despite being a police officer until the day he died, had never ceased to make his mum feel special.
Realising suddenly that Cass was looking at him in concern, he smiled a sad smile. ‘Yeah, I miss them. I’m actually planning on heading back up there in a week or so, all being well.’
‘That’s great, Alex, that you visit them so regularly I mean.’
He rose to his feet, using the movement to stretch a little. ‘I’d better get back upstairs. The paperwork on my desk is about to take over the office. Thanks for the chat, Cass.’
‘Anytime,’ said Cass, watching thoughtfully as he walked out of her office. She found herself listening to his footsteps down the corridor and couldn’t help thinking they were the steps of a man whose past was weighing heavily on his shoulders. Sighing deeply, sadness suddenly glazing her eyes, Cass knew she recognised the same heavy steps when she walked. She of all people understood how hard it was to let the past go and move forward. Or at the very least the letting the past go bit, she was still working on it after all.
Chapter Sixteen
Unit 12b, Enterprise Park, Sunderland – 2 October
He smiled to himself as he sanded the piece he was working on. Slow smooth strokes along the grain the wood. This coffin was already a masterpiece, the intricate carving on the lid section finally complete. It had been an order for a unique piece, placed through his website with a very specific description.
He had to and fro’d with the buyer on the price, and the intricacy, and eventually they’d settled on the design being a section of the lid instead of the whole thing. A piece so elaborate would have taken him a year to complete effectively.
He had started the business when he was in his late twenties and was now established and had an excellent reputation for delivering the goods as promised.
Not that he was really worried about reputation, but he enjoyed the work. He enjoyed the fact other people would carry out their own morbid fantasies in the items he built, felt a kind of empowerment because of it. No matter what they did, they were always linked to him through the carefully handled wood.
His mother had always loved his woodwork. Not that she’d known he made coffins. But when he had portrayed a talent for carpentry, she’d pushed the vicar into letting him repair anything that broke in the church. The vicar had always complied; free labour was appreciated.
This piece was almost ready for shipping. It had to be at its designated location in six days. The buyer had wittered something about a convention of some sort in Whitby, and wanted it delivering to the convention address, after which time she’d be taking it home. The courier was due to pick it up tomorrow.
But it had to be perfect first.
He couldn’t entertain imperfection in any way.
Imperfection like the old man. He was easy to befriend, just coaxing with food and alcohol was enough to gain his trust. Stupid fool.
He was patient though, not rushing him, and didn’t question him constantly. Everything he had found out so far had been through the old man running his mouth off when he was drunk.
Not long to go, everything was falling into place. In a week he would be putting on his second show. Just as soon as he found the place the old guy called home. It was one secret he had not yet disclosed.
Perhaps tonight though, he’d already bought a nice cheap bottle of whisky to help things along. The old man was particularly partial to a tot of Scotch. He intended to let him drink more than a tot.
His keen eyes noticed a slight blemish on the side of the coffin. Concentrating, he slowly swept the sandpaper back and forth over the mark until it eventually vanished. Finally, happy it couldn’t be any better, he put down the sandpaper and reached for a cloth to wipe the surfaces before he began staining the wood.
Chapter Seventeen
Ryhope Police Station – 6 October
Cass sighed deeply as she left the meeting room. Her individual consultation had identified her as one of the at-risk roles, which she’d already known but it still stung. And with Kevin being off it had fallen to her and Jason to bolster staff morale. Greg was due back in for a late shift today and had his meeting scheduled for 5 p.m.
Cass had already decided to wait and have a chat with him, but a glance at the clock made her realise he would be delaying his meeting. There were already four jobs in the late shift file on the board, two of which were urgent. Fred, who was supposed to finish at 4 p.m., had taken an additional couple of tasks and headed off to get them done before he went home.
The phrase ‘one of those days’ popped into her head as she sat down and opened her inbox.
First on the list, and marked urgent, was a mail from someone whose name she didn’t recognise.
From: Patrick Kelly
To: Cassandra Hunt
Heading: Advanced notice of release
Miss Hunt,
My name is Patrick Kelly and I work for the probation service in Durham. I’ve been advised to inform you of the impending release of prisoner, Carl Jameson, into the care of the service, with myself being named as Probation Officer. Carl is due for release on 19th October and has been ordered to reside in the Durham area. He has conditions not to enter Sunderland or contact you in any way, and if he makes attempts to speak with you, I would advise you to contact the police immediately. I understand that this may come as a shock, and that you may have concerns regarding this release but would like to reassure you that Carl has been through some progressive therapy while incarcerated and is not believed to be a threat to himself or others at this time. His early release is due to a successful appeal hearing last week. The appeal panel did not receive any comments from you in relation to his unsuitability for release and it was presumed that you believe he has reformed.
I can be contacted in the office on 01918858585 should you wish to discuss this matter. Your contact information was provided to me by Teesside Crown Court as the most accurate and up to date. I’ve also issued a letter to your home address to confirm.
Yours sincerely
Patrick Kelly, Senior Probation Officer.
Cass felt bile rise in her throat as panic threatened to envelop her. How the hell could he be released? It had only been eight years. He had been sentenced to twelve, the presiding judge specifying he should serve the full term.
She had sent the letter stating she did not believe he was capable of acting as a normal human being, she was sure she had. She had prepared it at work on the day of the murder and put in the internal mail. Hadn’t she? Hyperventilating slightly, she quickly rummaged through the outbox tray on her desk, pulling out the pile and scattering it on her desk. And she stared in numb shock at the pristine envelope addressed to Frankland Prison.
‘Shit,’ she muttered under her breath, fighting to maintain her composure and not grab her keys and make a run for it. Forcin
g herself to breathe deeply, she tried to calm herself down. He didn’t know where she was, nothing she had was listed publicly. Even her Facebook account had minimal friends on her list.
Tears pricked and she muttered, ‘Shit,’ again.
‘You stupid idiot. How could you forget to post the single most important thing you send every year?’
‘Talking to yourself is tantamount to craziness,’ said Alex softly from the doorway. Then, realising how upset she was he entered quickly and closed the door.
‘Cass, what’s wrong?’
She shook her head at him, unable to speak as her breath caught in her throat.
‘Is it Ollie? Cass, come on, love, tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help?’
‘Not Ollie,’ she whispered softly. Taking a shaky breath, she looked up at Alex, and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to gather her in his arms and tell her everything would be OK, and make the statement true.
He walked around the desk, and knelt in front of her, placing his hands gently over the top of hers.
‘Tell me, Cass.’
Taking a shaky breath, Cass began. ‘Eight years ago I was in a relationship with Carl Jameson. He … hurt me, and now he’s being released from prison coz I was stupid enough not to send my rejection of appeal letter to the board. How could I forget to send it, Alex? After what he did, how could I be so stupid?’
Alex’s anger spiked – this was who had hurt Cass, caused the shadows in her eyes the morning he’d startled her. He paused, letting her take a shaky breath and continue.
‘I’d been with him for two years. I was so naïve, Alex. Every time he hit me and apologised, I would just hope he wouldn’t do it again and he would mean it this time. He had me move away with him, I hardly saw Mum, or my friends. And then he came in from work and thought that I’d been out with someone he knew. I hadn’t, I’d been in the house cleaning all day. He was blind drunk, and I was in bed when he came in. I woke up to him hitting me,’ she paused again, trying to stop the tears before they fell, ‘He kept hitting me and didn’t stop. I’ve been told that I was unconscious within a couple of minutes but that he kept going. It was a neighbour who reported him, saying she’d heard me screaming. I woke up in hospital five days later, with severe concussion, cracked cheek and jaw, broken collar bone, and several broken ribs.’
With Deadly Intent Page 10