Don't Turn Around: A dark, thrilling, page-turner of a crime novel (Detective Jennifer Knight Crime Thriller Series Book 1)

by Caroline Mitchell

  ‘The kind lady.’

  ‘Is she here now?’

  ‘Yes.’ A secret smile came to Joshua’s lips as his eyes followed the invisible figure at the end of the bed.

  ‘What does she look like?’ Jennifer stared into the empty space, trying to pick up the energy. Something soft at the edge of her consciousness was blocked as she probed further.

  ‘She looks like you. But she’s not you.’

  The words conveyed what Jennifer already knew and her lips moved in silent thanks.

  The sound of Amy’s feet creaking on the stairs signalled that her time with Joshua was over.

  ‘Josh honey, you’re safe now. If you ever need anything, tell Mummy and I will come straight around.’

  Joshua yawned and rubbed his eyes. ‘Will you drive the police car?’

  Jenny chuckled. ‘Maybe. Now give me a kiss and get to sleep.’ Jennifer felt the room warm, as any residue of evil dissipated. Joshua was safe for now.

  Amy stood at the doorway, rubbing her arms. Jennifer smiled at her sister and tucked Joshua into bed. Leaning over, she whispered in his ear, ‘Remember we love you, and we’ll keep you safe. Just don’t let the bad man in again.’

  ‘Jenny?’ Joshua said, his voice drowsy.

  ‘Yes sweetie?’

  ‘Did you bring me any chocolate?’

  Jennifer ruffled his hair, ‘Next time, I promise.’

  Amy walked over and planted another kiss on his forehead. ‘I’ll leave on the night light, and the monitor is on next door so I’ll hear you, OK honey?’

  Joshua did not answer. He was already falling into a light sleep.

  Amy sniffed the air as she turned to leave the room. ‘I like your perfume.’

  ‘Perfume?’ Jennifer said. The only scent she wore was the vanilla body wash that had long since evaporated.

  ‘Yeah. Apple blossom. It’s what mum used to wear.’

  ‘Oh, right. It’s a tester from Boots,’ Jennifer said. She hated lying to her sister, but she had only just been allowed back in the fold and did not want to risk being shut out again.

  Amy put her finger to her lips as she pointed to Lily, still dozing peacefully in her moses basket. Her cherry lips made a soft sucking movement as she snoozed in contentment. Jennifer glanced at the empty sofa, guessing David had gone upstairs to leave them to it.

  ‘Did Josh say anything to you?’ Amy said, shoving across a plate of chocolate digestives to complement the coffees she had just made.

  Jennifer sighed. She needed more time to think things through. ‘He mentioned the bad dreams. I think I’ve managed to make him feel better.’

  A frown burrowed its way into Amy’s features. ‘I think it’s more than just nightmares.’

  Jennifer held her breath, wondering if her sister understood what was going on.

  ‘I’m going to have him tested for autism,’ Amy said.

  Jennifer stared at her sister in amazement. ‘You’re kidding me, right?’

  ‘No, I’m not. There’s something wrong with him. Lately, it’s like he’s not in the room. And the stuff he comes out with. It’s like he can read my mind.’

  ‘He’s just perceptive Amy, he’s gifted.’

  ‘But autistic children can be incredibly intelligent,’ Amy said, dipping her biscuit into her coffee and taking a bite.

  ‘And sometimes they find it hard to bond emotionally, and Josh is the most loving child you could meet.’

  ‘There are lots of misconceptions around autism Jennifer, and Josh has got more of a bond with you than me.’

  ‘Don’t be daft, you’re his mum. I’ve got no kids of my own, it’s only natural that he’s attached to me when I give him all my attention, not to mention forbidden chocolate.’

  Amy did not look entirely satisfied.

  ‘There was this programme once on the telly about children who had a similar insight as Josh.’

  ‘Oh yeah, what was that?’

  ‘They called them psychic children. They tested them and everything. It seemed quite conclusive.’

  Amy laughed. ‘I don’t believe in that rubbish.’

  Jennifer tried another tactic. ‘Remember when we were children and we used to play Ring a Ring of Roses?’

  ‘I remember hating that bloody game, you kept grabbing my hand, making me play.’

  ‘That’s right. Do you remember why you hated it?’

  ‘It’s so long ago ...’

  ‘You said that when you held both my hands you used to see other children playing with us. It frightened you, so you stopped. Maybe it’s like that for Joshua.’

  ‘Imaginary friends that frighten him? I doubt it.’

  Jennifer faked a smile. ‘Yeah, you’re right, it was just a thought. Anyway, I’ve got to go. Just promise me you won’t do anything rash with Josh, you don’t want him to pick up on it.’

  Amy folded her arms, a hint of annoyance in her voice. ‘Knowing him, he probably knows already. But thank you for the parenting advice, Sis, I’ll seek your approval before doing anything.’

  Jennifer grabbed her bag from the side, and fumbled with her car keys. Her emotions began to rise like a tidal wave inside her; frustration at not being able to care for Josh mixed with fear and anger at being kept at such a distance. All she had ever done was protect her sister as a child. She’d never imagined they would end up like this. She mumbled a goodbye and turned to leave. Amy grabbed her shoulder, regret etched on her face.

  ‘Sorry, Sis, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m actually really proud of you. Come and see Josh any time you like.’

  ‘Does David agree with that? He seems to disappear every time I come around.’

  ‘It’s me he’s avoiding, not you. I’ve been a bit hormonal since Lily was born, but we’ll be OK. Christmas is coming and I don’t want any bad feelings.’

  ‘Well if you ever need to talk, you know where I am.’

  Amy opened her arms for a hug, and she fell into her sister’s embrace. It was the first time Amy had hugged her since she fell ill. She had never understood why her sister punished her for falling apart.

  The rain had cleared on the journey home and Jennifer was beginning to relax when her mobile phone buzzed in her pocket. Joshua came to mind, and she pulled her mud splashed red Vauxall Astra over to respond. The country lane was a shortcut she used frequently, but the absence of streetlights left it dark and murky, with nothing but the glow of the cloud-filtered moon overhead. She hastily pressed the ‘accept’ button while turning off the engine in her car. The raspy voice on the other end shot a chill down her spine.

  ‘Hello Jen-ni-fer, it’s Shelly. I heard you were concerned about me.’ She chuckled.

  Jennifer frowned. Her mobile number was private, and the voice sounded like Shelly’s, but the vocabulary was off. Jennifer peered through the car windscreen, pressing the central locking button.

  ‘Shelly, yes I was worried. Where are you?’

  More manic giggling. ‘Oh I’m somewhere very cold. But you already know that, don’t you Jenny?’

  Jennifer opened her mouth to speak but Shelly tutted down the phone.

  ‘You shouldn’t have stopped him talking to the boy. He was just being friendly.’

  Jennifer’s heart accelerated at the mention of Josh, and her fingers reached for the small silver cross nestled in her collarbone. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about Shelly, but if you tell me what you want, perhaps I can help.’

  ‘It’s too late for that and you know it. But don’t worry, he’ll be in touch when the time is right. You won’t need to look very far.’ The voice gave off a deep throaty laugh and the phone line abruptly cut off. Jennifer shivered, turning on the car engine before checking the display. It was an unknown number, just like the previous silent calls that had tormented her. She drove home at speed, skidding into puddles and hitting potholes as she fought to keep calm.

  27 Chapter Twenty-seven

  Sam - 1992

  The arm of the
sofa dug into Sam’s head as he turned to pull the blanket over his shoulders. Desolation swept over him. For weeks after Tina’s death, he had expected the police to come knocking at his door, and was continuously looking over his shoulder. As much as he tried to dodge the responsibility, he knew he was to blame. Sam replayed it in his head so many times with an alternate ending. Returning alone, telling Frank that Tina was not around, maybe even warning her off. If he hadn’t hit her, maybe she wouldn’t have gone into the bathroom to mop up the blood, maybe she would just have taken her money and left before Frank got to her. Maybe if he hadn’t straddled the pillow over her head, and leaned with all his might ...

  Sam turned over and stared at the static of the television screen, seeing Tina’s face in the visual snow. His stomach churned. He was too scared to go to sleep and too scared to stay awake. Tina’s tortured soul came back to haunt him when he slept and in every waking hour.

  Frank had said he would call, as he dragged out the heavy suitcase, still wearing his predatory smile. That was the last he had seen of him. He had mentioned taking Tina for a swim but Sam didn’t want to know. He just wanted her gone. But she had never left, not really. She was living and breathing in the walls that surrounded him.

  The sleeping tablets in the top shelf of the bathroom cabinet called to him. That’s what he needed, a very long sleep. Sam dragged his feet to the dingy room, replaying past events with each step. He glanced at the row of empty hooks where the shower curtain used to be. A new shower curtain would carry the nightmare of Frank’s shadow, hiding and waiting for his prey. He shook the bottle of pills, and left them on the arm of the sofa in the living room. There were enough to send him to sleep for good. His mother would be horrified. According to her faith, his tortured soul would spend all of eternity in hell.

  It pained him to think about her. She had always tried to do her best by him, but her religious views were stifling. That was why he had dyed his hair, packed his bags, and left without saying goodbye. Armed with a handful of newspaper clippings of someone else’s crimes, he had smoked dope with his friends as he bragged about how he had evaded the police yet again. But it was all lies. Sure, he had been arrested, but only for pick pocketing; a compulsion born out of necessity to feed his cannabis habit. It had been cruel of him to abandon his mother like that, but it was too late to go back to her now. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness. He was totally alone.

  A sob caught in the back of Sam’s throat and he curled up in a ball on the sofa. He should just finish himself and get it over with. He had the guts to kill someone else, but not himself. Well if he didn’t do it, Frank would do it for him. The thought of death being so near instilled a crippling fear into every cell of his body. He cried himself into a stupor, and woke to find himself naked in a prison cell. Hunched into a ball and hugging his knees on the hard floor, he listened as high-heeled footsteps slowly echoed down the corridor, approaching the cell door. The latch dropped and Tina’s bloodshot eyes bulged through the hatch, the remnants of a shower curtain masking the peeling skin of her face. Tina rasped, clawing through the narrow hatch. ‘Lemmie in, let the dog see the bone ...’

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do it,’ Sam whimpered, hiding his head in his knees as he clenched them tightly to his body.

  An odious smell lingered as Tina hammered on the prison door, bang bang bang. ‘Sam, let me in.’ On and on the voice thundered from the other side, ‘I know you’re in there, open the door, it’s twelve o clock.’

  Sam woke with a start, his heart pounding wildly. Impatient fists hammered at his front door. ‘C’mon kid, answer the door, I need to talk to you.’

  Sam’s heart fell back into his chest and he rubbed his clammy face with his hands. ‘OK, OK, I’m coming.’ Frank was back. That part of the nightmare was real.

  As he expected, Frank was standing there with a broad smile on his face, wearing a new suit, and no doubt fisting a pocket full of cash.

  Sam faked a smile for the sake of self-preservation. ‘Frank, when did you get back? You look great. Come inside.’

  Frank’s face fell as he looked Sam up and down. ‘I’m afraid I can’t say the same for you buddy, you look terrible. And what’s all this?’ he said, pointing to the blanket-covered sofa.

  ‘I’ve been sick, the flu. I couldn’t move,’ Sam lied.

  ‘I’m really sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can get you?’

  ‘No thanks, I’ll be OK. Where have you been?’

  ‘Oh, here and there. I’ve been thinking of investing in some properties abroad and I went out to view them. I met a very nice lady out there. Let’s just say she took good care of me.’

  Sam smiled. ‘Nice one,’ he said, wondering how the rich old bag would feel if she knew that the last person Frank had slept with was a corpse.

  ‘You sure I can’t get you anything? You’ve gone very pale.’

  ‘I just need some sleep. Sorry I didn’t hear you banging at first. I took some pills and I’m still a bit groggy. You said you wanted to talk to me?’

  Frank smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, which were burrowing their way into Sam’s brain, trying to pick out the truth behind the veneer. ‘Nothing that can’t wait. I just wanted to see if you were OK. I’ll call back tomorrow.’

  Sam’s emotions ran riot as Frank patted his shoulder. His very presence was hypnotic. If only things had been different. But it was all fake. His dark looks drew people in, and his charm ensnared them.

  Sam was a rat in a trap and he didn’t stand a chance. He touched Frank’s forearm as he turned to leave. ‘Frank, before you go, can I ask … Tina, did you …’ Sam swallowed hard. ‘Did you have any problems getting rid of her?’

  Frank rested his hand on Sam’s briefly. It was warm to the touch and Sam could smell his aftershave as he whispered, ‘I told you I’d make her disappear and I have, so don’t you worry about it. The police haven’t been sniffing around have they?’

  ‘No, not at all.’

  ‘There you go, my friend. I told you nobody would miss her. Now clean this place up, it stinks. And have a shave while you’re at it. I’ll be round tomorrow to tell you about my plans. There’s a certain lady I need to even the score with, and it’s been a long time coming.’

  28 Chapter Twenty-eight

  Stifling a yawn, Jennifer sat on the plush rug in her living room and leaned against the sofa with her mug. The hot chocolate was comforting as it hit the back of her throat; reminding her of a ritual she had enjoyed with her mother when she was alive. It was a nice memory; sneaking out of bed when her mum came home late from work, both sitting on their carpeted floor nursing hot chocolates as they swapped whispered stories of their day. With the house asleep, it had felt like they were the only people alive in the world.

  Jennifer was starting to relinquish the bitterness that haunted her. She wasn’t the only person with a rough childhood, it was time to stop being a victim. Her eyes rested on the tape recorder in front of her. She examined the tape, rolling her finger over the smooth edges. To think, her mother had touched it before her. Jennifer had thought long and hard about how Elizabeth had gotten hold of such vital evidence. Their own ancient tape machine held three cassette tapes. It had been known to break down, and a few years ago if one tape jammed, they would save the other two for court and bin the third. Things had tightened up a lot since then, and now everything had to be accounted for. Jennifer would not have put it past her mother to save the mangled tape and fix it at home. She wound the spool back and sure enough, she saw the tell tale sign of indentations in the narrow brown plastic tape.

  Jennifer sighed. She had put off playing it for long enough. She pushed the tape into the Walkman and closed the lid. Her finger hovered over the ‘play’ button, praying she would find some answers. Was she ready to hear her mother’s voice? She briefly closed her eyes. Remember why you’re doing this, focus on the interview, she thought. Taking a deep breath, she pressed ‘play’.

  PS Knight:
The time is 13.47 and my name is Sergeant Elizabeth Knight. I am interviewing. For the purposes of the tape can you give me your name and date of birth?

  Sam Beswick: Um, Sam Beswick 14th February 1973.

  Jennifer paused the tape. Her mother’s voice sounded just like hers. Authoritative and professional, it made her want to sit up and take notice. The quality was not brilliant, but enough to make out the break in the boy’s voice. At least that’s what he sounded like, a frightened little boy. She forwarded the tape past the intros. Sam had chosen not to have a solicitor present, despite her mother’s advice. Jennifer opened her journal and began to transcribe the interview.

  PS Knight: Sam, tell me what you know about the death of Martina Jackson, known to you as Tina. Start from the first contact you had with her, right up to present day.

  Sam Beswick: Oh God, this is awful. I feel sick.

  PS Knight: Take some deep breaths.

  Sam Beswick: Deep breaths. Yeah. Okay. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to do it yeah? It’s all Frank’s fault, it was his idea.

  PS Knight: Please go on.

  Sam Beswick: I killed her. There. I’ve said it. I killed Tina.

  PS Knight: OK Sam, can I stop you there? We can refer to Martina Jackson as Tina from now on. Who is Frank and what is his involvement in this?

  Sam Beswick: Frank Foster. He calls himself the ‘Grim Reaper’. He lives in my block of flats. He put me up to this.

  PS Knight: Do you have a date of birth for Frank? Approximate age?

  Sam Beswick: He … he said his birthday was Christmas day, but Frank lies. That’s why I didn’t believe him at first. I guess … thirties, maybe forty, I dunno.

  PS Knight: Usually there would be another officer making notes, but upon your insistence, I am solo. In order to make sense of what you’re telling me, we need to start from the beginning and work our way to the present day. That way we won’t need to keep going back and forward. Do you understand?