Dying Truth: A completely gripping crime thriller

by Angela Marsons

  ‘I ain’t doing that good,’ he said, fighting a smile.

  ‘Damn right,’ she agreed and then thought for a moment. ‘Rash, Kev,’ she said, honestly. ‘Not the skin kind but the acting sometimes without full consideration for the consequences kind.’

  He narrowed his eyes. ‘Boss, I’m not sure I’d agree…’

  ‘And bloody argumentative,’ she said, pretending to write it down. ‘The second doesn’t bother me so much. Your umm… challenging nature while intensely annoying, irritating and frustrating does give me pause for thought, now and again. However, your impetuousness will ultimately get you into trouble.’

  He thought for a second and then nodded. ‘But the thing is, I have this boss who—’

  ‘Isn’t being appraised right now,’ she interrupted, making a note in the empty box. ‘Curb it, before someone gets hurt.’

  He opened his mouth against her expression which actively discouraged a debate on the subject.

  ‘Got it, boss.’

  She read the entry in the last box on the form marked ‘Future Goals’.

  ‘Really?’ she asked.

  He took a breath. ‘I think I’m ready for that next step, boss. I’m not on probation,’ he said and then glanced at the appraisal form. ‘I think I’ve demonstrated competence. I have no live warnings or improvement notices and…’

  ‘You trying to convince me, Kev?’

  Kim knew that any requested registration form would result in a line manager endorsement form being forwarded to her.

  ‘I’ve got a family, boss. I wanna provide for Alison, give Charlotte a decent education, you know, give them both a good life.’

  Kim understood but it was not a fast or easy process. He would need to sit a legal knowledge exam, be assessed against rank-specific competencies and endure a temporary promotion and work-based assessment before he could even sniff the permanent promotion.

  ‘And, to be honest your opinion means as much to me as—’

  ‘It won’t be me making the final decision on—’

  ‘I know, but I’d like to know what you think,’ he said, honestly as a polite tapping sounded on the already opening door.

  ‘It’s coming on, guv,’ Bryant said from the doorway.

  She nodded in his direction and stood.

  ‘Boss?’ Dawson said, waiting for an answer to his question. Did she think he was ready?

  ‘When we find Sadie’s killer I’ll be sure to let you know.’

  He smiled and followed her out of the door.

  * * *

  They all gathered around Stacey’s computer; she had loaded the news channel onto her screen. There stood her boss in front of the north side of the building, not visible from their window.

  He was flanked by press liaison officers with lanyards hanging around their necks but no other police officer was present. His authoritative demeanour in his smart black uniform commanded all the attention.

  ‘Turn it up, Stace,’ Dawson said from the back.

  ‘…incident at Heathcrest Academy that has resulted in the death of a thirteen-year-old girl. Our condolences and thoughts are with the family at this time and officers are working—’

  ‘Are the circumstances suspicious?’ shouted one female voice from the front.

  Kim groaned. She knew that voice well.

  Woody ignored the question. ‘Officers are currently determining—’

  ‘Was it suicide or accidental?’ Frost shouted again, getting the attention of the Sky News camera, which now flitted back and forth between the reporter and her boss.

  Woody stared straight ahead. ‘Our enquiries are ongoing at this time—’

  ‘Chief Inspector, was it murder?’ Frost shouted.

  The camera whipped right back to Woody, who hesitated before speaking again.

  ‘We will update you as soon as we have more information,’ he said, before turning away and heading back into the building.

  ‘Bloody Frost,’ Kim said, shaking her head. This was exactly what her boss hadn’t wanted.

  The only thing that would be taken away from this press conference was that one word and his refusal to deny it. Murder would be screamed from every headline.

  ‘I’m thinking that Jack is definitely out of the box now, boss,’ Dawson observed.

  ‘I think you’re right,’ Kim said, as her phone began to ring.

  She recognised the number as Lloyd House. West Midlands Police headquarters in Birmingham.

  * * *

  ‘Stone,’ she answered, heading back into the bowl.

  ‘Detective Inspector Stone, this is Chief Superintendent Briggs.’

  Kim had the urge to laugh out loud. She’d heard the name, had even seen his photo, but this man wasn’t Woody’s boss. He was Woody’s boss’s boss.

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Whatever you were doing next, please cancel it. The Winters have requested your presence at their home. They have something they’d like you to see. Immediately,’ he said before the line went dead.

  She stared at the phone for a full twenty seconds as a feeling of unease stroked the hairs on the back of her neck.

  She had the impression that someone was trying to put this Jack back into the box.

  Twenty-Four

  ‘So, how’d it go, Kev?’ Stacey asked as soon as the boss and Bryant had left the room.

  He shrugged. ‘You know, she confirmed what I already knew. I’m fucking awesome.’

  ‘So, she day mark you down at all?’ Stacey asked, knowingly.

  ‘Well, maybe in one or two areas…’

  ‘And she day mention you being tricked into going against her express instructions and doing that public appeal?’

  He narrowed his gaze at her. ‘It might have come up.’

  ‘And she didn’t suggest that sometimes you’re—’

  ‘Stace, it’s supposed to be confidential,’ he snapped. ‘But I suppose you’ve scored yourself modestly?’

  Stacey nodded. ‘You know, when I was a kid my mum told me never seat yourself at the head of the table, because it’s a longer walk if you’re asked to step down.’

  ‘Whatever, Stace,’ he said, moving around some papers on his desk.

  He knew what Stacey meant but he also knew his boss liked confidence. Yeah, there were times he appeared arrogant and cocky, but the boss knew him, and she’d been pretty fair with her scoring. He would have preferred a nice tidy row of top scores, but he’d take what she’d given, and he’d been honest with her too. Yes, he wanted promotion. One day he wanted a team of his own, too, but what he really craved was her endorsement.

  He realised his colleague was still looking at him.

  ‘So, what you up to, Kev?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked, innocently.

  ‘Look, I know you hate fact-checking but you really gonna avoid spending time with me by making up a line of enquiry to follow?’

  He chuckled at her playful tone.

  ‘Hey, who blew who off?’ he asked, good-naturedly.

  He’d asked if she fancied a drink after work the night before. That Geoffrey kid had stayed on his mind and he hadn’t wanted to take it home with him. His own childhood had been thrust right back into his present and he was having trouble shaking it off.

  ‘Sorry, mate, but I’d made plans,’ she said, staring at her computer screen.

  ‘Devon, again?’ he asked.

  Stacey nodded

  ‘Bloody hell, Stace. I make that three dates in a week. You two getting serious?’ he asked.

  She raised her eyes above the screen edge.

  ‘Well, we have talked about making a commitment—’

  ‘A what?’ he gasped.

  ‘To a weekend away somewhere,’ she laughed at his expression.

  He smiled, enjoying her excitement. From what he knew his colleague had been seeing the immigration officer for a few weeks now, and the change in her was noticeable. He sometimes saw the slow, secret smile on her face when she glanc
ed at her phone when she thought no one was watching. He saw the way she carried herself differently, more confidently than he’d ever seen before. He saw the flash of concern when a case caused them to work late. But what he really saw was the light behind her eyes, that warm glow that came from starting to fall in love.

  He wasn’t sure if she even knew it herself yet.

  ‘So, ain’t that commitment thing enough to get you running for the hills yet?’ he asked, playfully.

  It was no secret that the drop-dead gorgeous Devon had been interested in Stacey for some time. It was only Stacey who had lacked the confidence or self-worth to give it a go.

  ‘You know, there’s only one thing that bothers me more,’ she said, seriously.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Why you’re still sitting here when the boss has green-lighted your line of enquiry.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Now, as much as I’d like to think you’re that interested in my personal life, I suspect it’s cos you want something from me, so come on, cough.’

  He smirked. Jesus, she knew him well.

  ‘Need some background on a couple of kids from Heathcrest. Young lad named Geoffrey Piggott and a girl named Tilly Tromans.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked, simply. ‘There are hundreds of kids there, why these two?

  He shrugged. ‘The only two I’ve found so far who seem to have known Sadie at all.’

  ‘Okay, but you’ll have to get in line. Boss’s work comes first,’ she said matter-of-factly.

  ‘Thanks, Stace,’ he said, with a wink.

  ‘So, what did you find out that you didn’t share with the boss, Kev?’ she asked shrewdly.

  He smiled but said nothing. Her antenna was too well tuned this morning.

  He wanted to find out a little bit more about this Queen of Hearts.

  Twenty-Five

  ‘So, what you thinking the grieving parents want to show us, guv?’ Bryant asked, as he drove through pools of water from an earlier storm.

  The town of Droitwich sat on the River Salwarpe and was the only Midlands area to be in Halifax ‘Quality of Life Survey’ of 2011.

  The satnav deposited them at a tarmac drive flanked by bare, gnarled trees with branches like witches’ fingers beckoning them to enter. The trees gave way to natural parkland with a dwelling a half mile in the distance.

  ‘Their own lake?’ Bryant observed, glancing to his right.

  Kim said nothing. Whatever their material trappings and possessions they had just lost their thirteen-year-old daughter. How much of this would they be prepared to give to get Sadie back? Every bit of it, she suspected.

  Although she couldn’t help the stab of disappointment at the house as they neared it. The flat white frontage of the monstrous property screamed Regency incarnation but without the age or history behind it. Any ‘original features’ inside the house would be the total opposite. Manufactured to appear authentic.

  Bryant parked the car between two identical Range Rover models. One in black and one in white.

  ‘Nice,’ Kim observed.

  ‘Queen of understatement there, guv,’ Bryant said.

  She shrugged. Give her a bike, any bike and she could tell you its history but fascination with cars was a bit of a mystery to her.

  ‘If I was a fifteen-year-old boy this is the car that would be on my wall,’ he continued, looking in the window as he passed. ‘It’s the new SVAutobiography, 5 litre V8 engine and 539 break horse power.’

  Kim remained unimpressed.

  ‘That’s the equivalent of five Ford Fiestas, and they come in at around one hundred and fifty grand each,’ he explained.

  So, if cars of that value are parked outside, exposed to the elements, what on earth is being stored in the three-car garage on the west side of the courtyard? she wondered.

  ‘Not guessing, Bryant, so don’t even ask me,’ Kim said as they strode across the pristine white gravel towards the pillared portico entrance.

  Secretly she would have guessed the house value at around six million, but she was more fascinated with the cleanliness of the tiny white stones on the ground.

  The door opened before they had chance to knock. Mrs Winters stood before them, pale faced with a tremulous smile and a proffered hand.

  ‘Thank you for coming so promptly, officers,’ she said.

  Briggs hadn’t really made it sound like a choice, but Kim acknowledged the words.

  ‘Please, come in,’ she said, standing aside.

  The hallway was blindingly white, from the floor to the walls and the doors leading from the space. A round marble table stood at the centre beneath a circular opening to the upper level.

  They followed Hannah Winters to the right of the staircase and into a room furnished in pastel colours. The cream, plush carpet instantly made Kim wonder if there was anything on the bottom of her shoes.

  ‘Please, sit,’ she said, fingering a heart-shaped diamond necklace that nestled at the base of her throat.

  Kim noted that her nails were painted a soft pink colour to match the cashmere sweater she was wearing over cream slacks. With her straw-coloured hair down and sitting on her shoulders Kim could see the definite resemblance to her eldest daughter, Saffie.

  ‘My husband will be through, shortly, he’s just on a call,’ she said, offering a polite smile.

  Kim detected a recent dose of Botox was responsible for the lack of movement to her features and the absence of lines around her eyes or on her forehead.

  ‘Mrs Winters, may I ask what it is that you—?’

  ‘A letter,’ she said. ‘It’s a letter we found in Sadie’s things.’

  ‘From the school?’ Kim clarified, recalling Dawson’s words.

  Hannah hesitated before nodding.

  ‘You took her possessions before we had chance to take a look?’ Kim asked, working hard to keep the edge from her voice.

  ‘We did, Inspector,’ said Mr Winters as he entered the room with a clear plastic tub. ‘And this is everything that was in there,’ he said, handing it to her as though they’d done nothing wrong and it was the most natural thing imaginable that he should have access to her belongings first.

  She took it from him and placed it on the floor. There was no way she could be sure it was everything or if it was only the items the family were prepared to let her have.

  ‘Mr Winters, it would have been better to have left Sadie’s belongings in place so that we could assess the importance of the evidence before—’

  ‘What evidence?’ he asked, frowning. ‘She took her own life. Why would you need to see her things?’

  She had avoided the word ‘tampering’ only because they were grieving parents.

  ‘Mr Winters, did you see the press conference an hour ago?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course and I think that reporter should be taken to task for her behaviour. How dare she try and insinuate that anyone could have any reason to murder our child.’ He shook his head with disgust. ‘As hard as it is for us to accept that Sadie took her own life, we do not need hacks trying to make a headline out of our misery. The sooner we put this investigation behind us the better. Feel free to take a look,’ he said, nodding towards the box.

  She removed the lid and took a quick peek inside. She saw hair brushes, a couple of pairs of shoes, a phone, iPad and a few books. She moved a couple of items around until she could see the bottom of the box.

  ‘No diary?’ she queried.

  ‘She didn’t keep one as far as I know,’ Laurence offered, sitting down.

  Kim found that unusual even though she’d never kept one herself. But Sadie appeared to love words and exploring her feelings. Definite reasons for keeping a diary.

  She knew Sadie had kept something.

  ‘No exercise books?’

  The couple looked at each other and shook their heads. ‘No, Inspector,’ they said together.

  ‘May I ask who collected Sadie’s belongings from her room?’

  ‘Saffie,’ Hannah answered.
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br />   ‘Sadie liked to write,’ Kim explained. ‘Her English teacher said she spent many hours recording her feelings. Had quite a talent, apparently,’ she offered kindly.

  It appeared to be something about their youngest daughter they didn’t know. They both regarded her blankly.

  ‘We met Saffron yesterday,’ Kim said. She knew there was something these people wanted her to see and she would. All in good time.

  ‘We were surprised that she was still at school, considering—’

  Hannah shook her head. ‘She’s always been a headstrong girl, very determined. We begged her to come home with us, but she insisted that she won’t let the school down for the gala. It’s her way of coping, I think,’ Hannah said.

  ‘Were they close?’ Kim asked.

  ‘Not really,’ Laurence replied. ‘Not even as children. The three years between them seemed so much more. Saffie has always had an older head on her shoulders. She was never interested in the childish games Sadie wanted to play. She chose to spend most of her time at the piano,’ he said.

  Hannah nodded. ‘Eventually, Sadie stopped trying to get her sister’s attention, and the two of them kind of drifted apart.’

  Kim could hear the sadness in the woman’s tone.

  ‘Neither of us had siblings and wanted our girls to grow up close. We always hoped that once they were…’

  Kim saw her eyes redden at the realisation that any hopes they’d had of those bonds forming later in life had been lost for ever.

  She thought about the photo on her own fireplace at home. The bond she’d had with her own sibling, her twin brother, had been only six years long but it was a bond she had treasured.

  ‘So, what was it that you wanted to show us?’ Kim asked.

  Laurence stepped over to the mantelpiece and retrieved a single piece of plain paper.

  ‘We did find this in her things?’ he said, nodding towards the paltry box of possessions.

  Kim had lost interest in the box. It had been filtered through too many hands already. Stacey might find something on the phone or tablet, but Kim suspected not, or it would have been held back.