Dying Truth: A completely gripping crime thriller

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Dying Truth: A completely gripping crime thriller Page 12

by Angela Marsons


  The performance had had no soul.

  Thirty-Six

  ‘There’s little in this scoring I’d change,’ Kim said, glancing up at Stacey above her appraisal form. Before the death of Shaun Coffee-Todd, she had asked Stacey to meet half an hour before the morning briefing. They were all eager to get on with the murder of Sadie Winters, but Woody had left her in no doubt that the damned appraisals had to land on his desk before the end of the week.

  They had been through the individual criteria together, and Kim had found Stacey’s account of her own performance both accurate and honest. She signed the bottom of the form and put it on top of Dawson’s sheet.

  She saw the look of relief that passed over the constable’s face.

  The official appraisal was over, but Kim had more to say. Things that had no place on an official document that would live on her personnel file for ever. Despite her integral role in the team Kim always felt that Stacey was trying to prove something.

  She recognised it because she had been exactly the same when she’d joined the police force. But it had been a different animal back then. Most female police officers had felt the need to work harder and stay later than their male counterparts. She hated the thought that Stacey had felt the need to act in the same way, especially under her direction.

  Kim sat back in her chair. ‘Stace, why do you still feel you have so much to prove?’

  Stacey shifted uncomfortably.

  Kim continued. ‘You stay later than anyone else, you carry on working when you get home. Your mind is always on the job…’ Kim hesitated before going on. ‘You have to make a life too,’ she said.

  She was not the kind of boss that got involved in the personal lives of her team. It was something that made both her and them feel uncomfortable; but from what she could gather Stacey had other priorities now, a budding relationship. Something to divert her constant focus from her work.

  Stacey looked down at her hands.

  ‘Look, Stace, don’t let opportunities pass you by because you’re trying to prove yourself to people who already know—’

  ‘I’m not,’ Stacey said, simply.

  Kim tipped her head and waited for her colleague to continue.

  ‘I heard what you said almost three years ago,’ Stacey said, biting her bottom lip. ‘Just two words.’

  Kim shook her head, no idea what Stacey was referring to.

  ‘I’d just joined the team. It was my first week and I had no clue what I was doing. I thought I’d made a huge mistake in joining CID. You all seemed to be working around me, doing your jobs, while I sat dumbly on the side like a spectator. I made coffee, I fetched lunch and generally tried not to get in the way.’

  Kim nodded. ‘You were just finding your—’

  ‘Woody came down and spoke to you in the office. He thought I couldn’t hear and offered to have me transferred to another team.’

  Kim had almost forgotten. Yes, she remembered it now.

  ‘Two words, you said to him. When he offered to have me removed from the team you said to him “try it”. I’ve never forgotten.’

  Kim did remember but she’d never thought for a minute that Stacey had overheard.

  Stacey had found her own niche within the team as Kim had known she would. She had identified a gap in their skills spectrum and had filled it with her superior knowledge of data mining.

  Stacey stood. ‘So, you see, boss, I’m not trying to prove anything to anyone. I’m just trying to make you proud.’

  Kim opened her mouth to speak but Stacey was already out of the door.

  She found herself relieved as she had no clue what she would have said.

  Thirty-Seven

  ‘Okay, folks,’ Kim said, glancing around at her team. ‘Following the performance of Tracy Frost at the press conference yesterday, and the death of Shaun Coffee-Todd, an official statement has been issued from Lloyds House declaring that Sadie Winters was murdered. Her parents were notified last night and understandably are in shock at the news. I suspect we’ll be seeing them later at Heathcrest.’

  ‘By whom?’ Bryant asked.

  ‘Sorry?’ Kim asked.

  ‘Who informed her parents? It wasn’t us.’

  ‘I suspect it was the same person who was trying to insist it was suicide but that’s not our concern right now.’

  Woody’s phone call last night had been terse and cool.

  ‘So, what are you thinking about Shaun Coffee-Todd?’ Dawson asked.

  Kim held up her hand. ‘Slow down, Kev. One kid at a time,’ she said. ‘Sadie first.’ She looked to the detective constable. ‘Stace?’

  ‘Okay, Principal Thorpe left Heathcrest in 1993 and attended Oxford, where he studied social sciences and economics.’

  ‘Bloody hell,’ Dawson said. ‘He was a busy boy, wasn’t he?’

  ‘And did well in all subjects,’ she said. ‘So, he left the education system in 1997, spent five years teaching at a private boys’ school in Kent before returning to Heathcrest in ’02 as a maths teacher, before being promoted to deputy principal in ’09, and principal three years ago when Principal Richmond retired. He has a long-term girlfriend named Catherine.’

  ‘Christ, Stace, where did you get all that from?’ Bryant asked, impressed.

  ‘Tinder,’ she joked.

  ‘Okay,’ Kim said, mentally filing the information away. ‘Next.’

  ‘Graham Steele left Heathcrest a year after Thorpe and attended Cambridge. He trained as a doctor and then chose to specialise in psychiatry. Volunteers as a counsellor at the QE hospital for child bereavement couples and came back to Heathcrest seven years ago. No wife, kids, boyfriend or girlfriend.’

  ‘Don’t tell me, Facebook?’ Dawson quipped.

  ‘Instagram and Twitter,’ Stacey offered with a wink.

  Dawson turned to Kim. ‘Boss, I’d like a job where I get to spend all day on social media too,’ he said.

  ‘Then you should have worked harder at school,’ she replied. ‘Anything else, Stace?’

  ‘Looking at more of the parents next, so I’ll keep you updated.’

  Kim nodded her thanks. ‘Kev?’

  ‘We got an awful lot of cloak and dagger stuff at this place,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Exclusive clubs, calling cards, selection process…’

  ‘And?’ Kim asked, impatiently. Was this really what he’d been investigating?

  ‘Oh yeah, and our victim’s sister is right at the top of the pile.’

  Kim hesitated. ‘Go on,’ she said. There was something about Saffie Winters that caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand up.

  ‘There are four groups, all named after card suits. The red ones are girls and the boys black. Eleven members in each suit, the head of the group being either the King or the Queen.’

  He paused and, receiving no comments, he continued.

  ‘Cards are chosen based upon the power and influence they may have in later life. Of course it doesn’t hurt if your parents are powerful too. A new card is chosen by the rest of the suit, and an ace is left on the bed of the new card.’

  ‘Why an ace?’ Bryant asked.

  ‘Each new card has to start at the bottom and work their way up. They accept the card and then have to do some kind of task, and their place in that suit is secure. For life.’

  Stacey mock yawned. ‘Really, Kev? We’re investigating the murder of a young girl and you’re spending your time on playing cards?’

  Dawson shook his head. ‘You’re not getting it, Stace. Once you’re in these clubs, you don’t leave. It’s like a bond for life. You’re tied to these people for good.’

  ‘And Saffie Winters?’ Kim asked.

  ‘Is the Queen of Hearts,’ Dawson replied. ‘The highest she can be. Probably due to her future as a pianist as well as her family connections.’

  ‘And Sadie?’ Kim asked.

  Dawson shrugged. ‘No evidence she was in a suit, but she may have been invited and refused. Apparently, you don’t ref
use,’ he said.

  ‘Jesus, Kev,’ Stacey said, rolling her eyes.

  ‘But why would she have been invited in the first place?’ Kim queried. ‘By all accounts Sadie wasn’t gifted or special in any way, so why would they have wanted her?’

  ‘Nepotism,’ Dawson offered. ‘Maybe her sister wanted her in the group.’

  ‘Or maybe she didn’t,’ Kim said, changing her earlier opinion of his wasted time. ‘Stay on it, Kev. I want to know a bit more about what goes on in these groups, and while you’re at it I want you to do your best in tracking Sadie’s last movements.’

  ‘Will do, boss,’ he said.

  Right now she had no clues, leads, suspicions or facts that would aid her in finding Sadie’s killer but what she did know was that in this environment the kids outnumbered the adults by fifteen to one. In a murder investigation they were not odds that she was comfortable with.

  ‘Okay, guys, we’re two whole days clear of Sadie’s death and we have absolutely nothing. We need to be considering every option right now. We have to look more closely at the kids.’

  ‘Guv, seriously…’

  ‘Whether we like it or not, kids kill kids, Bryant, and it’s a line of enquiry we have to explore.’

  They all nodded and began their prescribed tasks.

  She turned to Bryant.

  ‘Carry on to Shaun’s post-mortem. There’s somewhere I need to go.’

  Thirty-Eight

  ‘So, how’d it go, Stace?’ Dawson asked her as soon as the boss and Bryant had left.

  ‘Is it your business?’ she asked without looking up. ‘I don’t recall you sharing all that much.’

  ‘Come on, show me yours and I’ll show you mine,’ he said, winking across the desk.

  ‘I’m showing yer nothing and there is nothing of yours I wish to see,’ she offered with a smile.

  ‘Did the boss tell you off for working late all the time?’ he asked.

  ‘I’d hazard a guess the boss didn’t tell you off for that,’ she replied.

  ‘Aww… come on, Stace. What were your areas of improvement?’ he pushed.

  She met his gaze. ‘Chatting with my colleagues too much,’ she said, pointedly.

  Stacey had no wish to share the details of her appraisal with him. She hadn’t meant to reveal to the boss the real reason behind her motivation and work ethic, but she’d hated the fact that the boss thought she was having to prove herself. She had never been made to feel that she had to outperform her male colleagues to be taken seriously. The boss would never have allowed that.

  ‘All right then, did you find out anything for me?’

  She tutted. ‘Yeah I was all over it while you were off talking about bloody playing cards.’

  ‘Did you or not?’

  She stared at him. ‘See that thing in front of you, it’s called a computer. You can do all kinds of wonderful things on it like search…’

  ‘Stace…’

  She rolled her eyes in despair. Sometimes he frustrated the life out of her.

  ‘Okay, just a few facts. Tilly Tromans’s parents are new money. Father won EuroMillions jackpot two years into the marriage. Spent the first few million on yachts, houses and holidays and a huge divorce settlement after a string of affairs. Tilly had already been registered at Heathcrest and about the only thing her parents do agree on is the education of their child.

  ‘Completely different for Geoffrey Piggott, whose family dates back about seven centuries. Both parents are barristers, and his mother has just won a landmark Human Rights case.’

  ‘Right to stay?’ he asked.

  She nodded. ‘And if you want any more than that you can flipping well search yourself,’ she said, huffily.

  ‘Didn’t see Devon last night, eh?’ he asked, smartly.

  Stacey opened her mouth to answer but Dawson had already turned his attention back to the screen.

  And by the look on his face there was something he was desperate to find.

  Thirty-Nine

  Kim knocked on the door that she had known from when she was six years old.

  She heard the humming before Ted Morgan answered the door.

  His surprise turned to delight. ‘Kim, what a surprise. Come on in,’ he said, stepping aside.

  She entered the two bedroom terrace into the lingering smell of bacon and eggs, a smell that was as familiar to her in this house as the man himself. She continued through to the kitchen and sat down as he passed her and reached for the kettle. He filled it and turned.

  ‘How are you, my dear?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m well, Ted,’ she answered.

  ‘And Barney?’

  ‘Is well, too,’ she said.

  ‘I’ll make coffee and then you can tell me what’s troubling you.’

  Kim felt a stab of guilt that she only visited the man when she needed something from him. She had first sought him out when dealing with the sociopathic Alexandra Thorne and had continued to bring him difficult questions since.

  ‘Don’t feel guilt, on my account,’ he said, knowing her better than anyone else on earth. ‘I am honoured that you trust me with your troubles.’

  Kim instantly relaxed. Ted had been a part of her life for as long as she could recall.

  At various stages of her childhood she’d been sent to him for counselling. Never had she opened up to him about her feelings and she doubted that she ever would. Ted knew every bad thing that had ever happened to her, from her file. And despite her resolute silence throughout their sessions, he had never given up trying.

  ‘Nasty business a few months ago with that girl of yours,’ he observed.

  Kim guessed he was talking about Stacey’s abduction.

  ‘And I suppose the reports were true?’ he asked, turning to look at her.

  ‘About what?’ she hedged.

  ‘That you entered the property unarmed even though there were guns involved?’

  Kim didn’t answer. The question was rhetorical.

  ‘She must be quite a detective,’ he observed. ‘For you to risk your own life. One might even say she’s important to you, don’t you think?’

  Kim opened her mouth to speak and changed her mind. There was nothing innocent about anything Ted said to her. Every word was designed for a response that he could read, analyse and probe further.

  ‘Ted, I need you to talk to me about something.’

  ‘Of course, dear,’ he said, placing a mug before her. ‘What do you need to know?’

  She took a breath. ‘I need to know about children who kill.’

  Forty

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ Dawson said, sitting back in his chair.

  Stacey ignored him and continued tapping.

  ‘I said, Jesus Christ,’ he repeated.

  ‘I heard yer the first time, Kev,’ she said. ‘As well as all the loud sighs that were designed to get my attention in the last half an hour.’ She pushed away her keyboard. ‘And now you have it, so what’s up?’

  He shook his head with disbelief. ‘You have any clue what goes on in some of these places?’

  ‘What places?’ she asked.

  ‘Schools, private schools. All the secret clubs and societies?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Even Yale has a super-elite secret undergrad society called Skull and Bones which meets in bloody tombs of all places. They’re called Bonesmen, and former members include presidents, supreme court justices, cabinet members and industry leaders.’

  Stacey shrugged. ‘So?’

  ‘They use a certain number as a code for something important in their lives. Says here that the bonds between Bonesmen often supersede all others.’

  ‘Kev, what are…’

  ‘Don’t you find it all a little bit creepy?’

  Stacey shook her head. ‘People like to belong to groups and shit like that. Didn’t you ever want to be part of a certain group or gang at school?’ she asked.

  He shook his head. It would have been enough for him not to
have been shamed and humiliated on a daily basis.

  ‘Oh, I did,’ Stacey admitted. ‘Year seven I was ten years old. Poppy Meadows,’ she rolled her eyes. ‘Great name, eh? Well, she was the most popular girl in school. Great family, great clothes, great friends, great at everything and I so wanted to be in her gang.’

  Dawson’s interest was piqued by the smile on her face. Maybe Stacey could help him understand the things he’d just read.

  ‘So, what did you do?’

  Stacey pursed her lips at the memory.

  ‘She was the school’s best gymnast and her group consisted of other great athletes. So, I thought if I could impress her with my own acrobatic abilities she’d let me into the group.’

  ‘Go on,’ he urged.

  ‘Practised my cartwheel all night in the back garden. My wrists were sore by the time I went to bed, but I was convinced I had it perfect.’

  ‘And?’ Dawson asked, sensing this was no happy ending.

  ‘I waited until they were all standing outside in a group. I counted to three and performed the perfect cartwheel in front of them.’

  ‘Really?’

  Stacey shook her head. ‘Nah, that was what happened in my head. In truth, I didn’t look before my hands landed on the ground right on top of a dying bee that stung me in the palm. I screamed and just kind of crumbled into a mass of arms and legs.’

  Dawson laughed out loud. ‘Did they notice you?’

  ‘Oh, they noticed me all right. And laughed at me for the next two years.’

  He sobered. Stacey had recounted that story not with fondness but an objectivity and ruefulness for others to see the normality of her experience. It was a fact of life.

  ‘But what drove you to do it?’ he asked, wondering why she’d been so eager to humiliate herself.

  She shrugged. ‘For validation, I suppose. I wanted to be as cool as they were; liked, respected, adored. They were special, and I wanted to be special too.’

  ‘What would you have done to be accepted into that group?’ he asked.

 

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