Dying Truth: A completely gripping crime thriller
Page 30
She had made no effort to hide the disappointment she had felt in him, and he had made no attempt to hide his regret and hurt at her disappointment. She knew her approval had been important to him. She’d known it then, and she’d known it in his recent appraisal.
The phone rang, startling her even though she’d been expecting the call.
‘Car’s ready, Marm,’ Jack said, sombrely into her ear.
He couldn’t see her nod as she replaced the receiver.
She pushed herself to a standing position and reached for the elbow crutches issued by the hospital.
She hopped her way through the office and paused at the desk nearest the door.
She placed a single sheet of paper in the centre. The recommendation for promotion, complete with her signature at the bottom.
‘Yes, Kev,’ she whispered. ‘You were ready.’
One Hundred Ten
Kim threw her crutches out of the car as the police officer jumped out to help her.
She waved him away.
Bryant had offered to pick her up from the station, but she’d refused. She hadn’t wanted to be alone in the car with him. He would want to talk, and she did not.
She began the trek along the walkway she knew so well. Everyone she’d ever loved was here somewhere.
She stepped into the chapel and remained at the back. There was barely standing room left. The space was filled with family, friends and colleagues.
A constable she recognised stood and offered his seat. She shook her head and glanced around.
The minister was speaking of Dawson as though they’d been old friends, reliving anecdotes passed second-hand from family members. She tuned out. He hadn’t known Dawson at all.
He didn’t know the total contradiction that the man had been. How selfish he could be one minute and totally selfless the next. He had not known the sharp intelligence that had been evident to her. The instinct in him and his passion for sorting right from wrong.
He had not known Dawson’s empathy for the disadvantaged or the passion with which he’d attacked his work. He had not known the protective instinct when anyone he cared about had been placed at risk.
He had not known the man that she had known.
The congregation stood to sing a hymn, obscuring his coffin from her view. She didn’t want to picture him still and cold inside that box. It was bad enough that her last memory of him was his body broken and bloodied, smashed against the ground, his eyes staring up to the top of the bell tower. That picture would remain with her for ever.
She looked around the chapel as the mourners sang. Each person held a different part of the man in their hearts, all carried different memories from each stage of his life. His parents, school friends, colleagues.
Kim saw Dawson’s fiancée at the front, supported by her mum and dad. His child, Charlotte, would now grow up without him by her side. Oh, how she wished she could gather up all these memories and give them to her, so she would one day know the man he had been. How he had matured from the selfish, pig-headed man she’d first met to the one who wanted promotion to give his family a better life.
She spied Woody sitting beside Bryant and Stacey.
She saw Stacey’s back lift now and again with an uncontrollable sob.
She watched as Bryant’s arm snaked around her shoulders.
She knew that the rest of her team needed her there, beside them. To share, to mourn. But there was a familiarity, a welcome affinity to the starkness inside her. She felt it and she knew it and it comforted her.
For as long as she could remember her mind had been formed of boxes. Every one contained something that had the power to hurt her, to reach the depths of her soul and break her apart.
There was a box building in her head, and her heart. She could feel its construction and she had to make a choice.
Go forward and join her team and share in their grief, help them understand the loss of their friend, feel their pain and share with them her own. It was what they needed her to do.
She took one last look at the photo of Detective Sergeant Kevin Dawson that stood on the coffin, before she turned and walked away.
Epilogue
Geoffrey Piggott wiped at his forehead with a handkerchief. The handkerchief of the man that had saved his life.
He still couldn’t think of that night without the lump forming in his throat. At first, he hadn’t been able to believe his eyes when the police officer had found him at the top of the tower. He had already convinced himself he was going to die, pictured himself falling and his bones smashing against the ground.
But Detective Sergeant Dawson had made him a promise and kept it.
He had cried for two days straight, wishing he could take it back, begging for the man who had been so nice to him not to die. And then he had started to focus only on the man’s courage, his determination to get what he wanted.
The memory had driven him downstairs to his parents. He had told them that he wasn’t academically gifted, no matter what they believed. He had told them he wanted a fresh start at his local school.
They had agreed.
Geoffrey knew the insults would be no different. The kids there would call him names too. But he now knew he was strong enough to take it.
If Detective Sergeant Kevin Dawson had managed to find the courage to make changes to his life and become the man he had, then Geoffrey owed it to him to do the exact same thing.
He no longer had sporting heroes, or athletic gods that he looked up to. He didn’t fawn over rich, fickle reality stars or short-term pop stars. He had been lucky enough to know a real hero.
And that’s what had brought him here, to make the first of many changes that would help him become the man he wanted to be.
‘You coming in?’ asked the female attendant, nodding towards the doors that led into the gym.
He took a breath, reached for his bag and followed her through.
* * *
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Also by Angela Marsons
Detective Kim Stone series
1. SILENT SCREAM
2. EVIL GAMES
3. LOST GIRLS
4. PLAY DEAD
5. BLOOD LINES
6. DEAD SOULS
7. BROKEN BONES
8. DYING TRUTH
Other Books
1. DEAR MOTHER
2. THE FORGOTTEN WOMAN
A Letter from Angela
First of all, I want to say a huge thank you for choosing to read Dying Truth, the eighth instalment of the Kim Stone series. If you’d like to keep up-to-date with all my latest releases, just sign up at the website link below.
www.bookouture.com/angela-marsons
For many years I’ve been intrigued by the idea of a cloistered environment at private schools along with the elite aspect of wealth, privilege, secret clubs and societies and how they can affect students chosen to join as well as those not chosen to join and how these bonds can affect club members in later life.
As I researched private schools I learned more about hazing (initiation) rites and pranks and the sinister turn they can take. I read widely of the documented deaths that have occurred from such traditions. The more I read the more I knew this needed to form part of the story I intended to write.
I also wanted the opportunity to bring Alexandra Thorne back, to explore the complicated subject of child sociopathy, and where better than a storyline built around a school.
I hope you enjoyed it.
If you did enjoy it, I would be for ever grateful if you’d write a revi
ew. I’d love to hear what you think, and it can also help other readers discover one of my books for the first time. Or maybe you can recommend it to your friends and family…
If you haven’t read any of the previous books in the DI Kim Stone series, you can find them here:
1. SILENT SCREAM
2. EVIL GAMES
3. LOST GIRLS
4. PLAY DEAD
5. BLOOD LINES
6. DEAD SOULS
7. BROKEN BONES
Thank you for joining me on this emotional journey.
I’d love to hear from you – so please get in touch on my Facebook or Goodreads page, Twitter or through my website.
Thank you so much for your support, it is hugely appreciated.
Angela Marsons
www.bookouture.com/angelamarsons
www.angelamarsons-books.com
SILENT SCREAM
Detective Kim Stone Crime Thriller Series Book 1
#1 BESTSELLER
Even the darkest secrets can’t stay buried forever…
Five figures gather round a shallow grave. They had all taken turns to dig. An adult-sized hole would have taken longer. An innocent life had been taken but the pact had been made. Their secrets would be buried, bound in blood …
Years later, a headmistress is found brutally strangled, the first in a spate of gruesome murders which shock the Black Country.
But when human remains are discovered at a former children’s home, disturbing secrets are also unearthed. D.I. Kim Stone fast realises she’s on the hunt for a twisted individual whose killing spree spans decades.
As the body count rises, Kim needs to stop the murderer before they strike again. But to catch the killer, can Kim confront the demons of her own past before it’s too late?
Fans of Rachel Abbott, Val McDermid and Mark Billingham will be gripped by this exceptional new voice in British crime fiction.
SILENT SCREAM IS OUT NOW
EVIL GAMES
Detective Kim Stone Crime Thriller Series Book 2
ORDER NOW
The greater the Evil, the more deadly the game…
When a rapist is found mutilated in a brutal attack, Detective Kim Stone and her team are called in to bring a swift resolution. But, as more vengeful killings come to light, it soon becomes clear that there is someone far more sinister at work.
With the investigation quickly gathering momentum, Kim finds herself exposed to great danger and in the sights of a lethal individual undertaking their own twisted experiment.
Up against a sociopath who seems to know her every weakness, for Detective Stone, each move she makes could be deadly. As the body count starts to mount, Kim will have to dig deeper than ever before to stop the killing. And this time - it’s personal.
Available to buy here…
* * *
READ AN EXCLUSIVE EXTRACT
Chapter One
Black Country – March 2015
Three minutes to go.
Dawn raids didn’t come bigger than this. The case had taken months to build. And now Kim Stone and her team were ready. The social workers were positioned across the road and would be given a signal to enter. Two little girls would not be sleeping here tonight.
Two minutes to go.
She keyed the radio. ‘Everyone in position?’
‘Awaiting your command, Guv,’ replied Hawkins. His team, parked two streets away, was poised to secure the rear of the property.
‘Good to go, Guv,’ said Hammond from the car behind. He had possession of the ‘big key’ that would gain a fast and deafening entrance.
One minute to go.
Kim’s hand rested above the door handle. Her muscles tensed, an adrenaline rush borne of impending danger; her body making the choice between fight or flight. As if flight had ever been an option.
She turned to look at Bryant, her partner, who had the most important thing: the warrant.
‘Bryant, you ready?’
He nodded.
Kim watched the second hand hit twelve. ‘Go, go, go,’ she called over the radio.
Eight pairs of boots thundered on the pavement and converged at the front door. Kim got there first. She stood aside as Hammond swung the enforcer at the door. The cheap wooden frame collapsed against three tonnes of kinetic energy.
As per the briefing, Bryant and a constable ran straight up the stairs towards the master bedroom to serve the warrant.
‘Brown, Griff, take the lounge and kitchen. Strip the place bare if you need to. Dawson, Rudge, Hammond, you’re with me.’
Immediately the house was filled with the sound of cupboard doors being swung open and drawers crashing shut.
Floorboards above her creaked and a woman wailed hysterically. Kim ignored it and gave the signal for the two social workers to enter the property.
She stood before the cellar door. A padlock secured the handle.
‘Hammond, bolt cutters,’ she called.
The officer materialised beside her and expertly snapped the metal.
Dawson stepped ahead of her, feeling along the wall for a switch.
A funnel of light from the hallway lit the stone steps. Dawson carried on down and powered up his torch, lighting the walkway beneath her feet. The smell of stale smoke and damp permeated the air.
Hammond headed over to the corner which held a spotlamp. He switched it on. The beam was aimed at the square gym mat that dominated the middle of the room. A tripod stood just beyond.
In the opposite corner was a wardrobe. Kim opened it to find a number of outfits including a school uniform and bathing costumes. On the floor of the wardrobe were toys: a rubber ring, beach ball, dolls.
Kim fought back the nausea.
‘Rudge, take photos,’ she instructed.
Hammond knocked on each of the walls, checking for any secret spaces.
In the furthest corner, in an alcove, sat a desk with a computer. Above it were three shelves. The top one was filled with magazines. The thin spines offered no clue to their content but Kim knew what they were. The middle shelf held a selection of digital cameras, mini discs and cleaning equipment. On the lowest shelf, she counted seventeen DVDs.
Dawson took the first one labelled Daisy Goes Swimming and put it into the disc drive. The high-powered machine quickly sprang into life.
Daisy, the eight-year-old, appeared on the screen in a yellow bathing costume. The rubber ring encircled her tiny waist. Her thin arms hugged her upper body but did nothing to stop the trembling.
Emotion gripped Kim’s throat. She wanted to tear her eyes away, but couldn’t. She pretended to herself that she could prevent what was about to happen – but of course she couldn’t, because it already had.
‘Wh— what now, Daddy?’ Daisy’s tremulous voice asked.
All activity stopped. The cellar stood still. Not a sound came from four hardened officers paralysed by the little girl’s voice.
‘We’re just going to play a little game, sweetheart,’ Daddy said, coming into camera view.
Kim swallowed and broke the spell. ‘Turn it off, Dawson,’ she whispered. They all knew what happened next.
‘Bastard,’ Dawson said. His fingers shook as he replaced the disc.
Hammond stared into the corner and Rudge slowly cleaned his camera lens.
Kim pulled herself together. ‘Guys, we are gonna make this piece of shit pay for what he’s done. I promise you that.’
Dawson took out the paperwork to itemise every piece of evidence. He had a long night ahead.
Kim heard a commotion upstairs. A female screamed hysterically.
‘Guv, can you come up here?’ Griff called.
Kim took one last look around. ‘Rip the place apart, guys.’
She met the officer at the top of the cellar steps. ‘What?’
‘Wife is demanding some answers.’
Kim strode to the front door, where a woman in her mid-forties stood clutching a dressing gown to her gaunt frame. Social workers placed her t
wo shivering daughters into a Fiat Panda.
Sensing Kim behind her, Wendy Dunn turned. Her eyes were red against a colourless face. ‘Where are they taking my children?’
Kim controlled the urge to knock her out. ‘Away from your sick, perverted husband.’
The wife clutched the garment at her throat. Her head shook from side to side. ‘I didn’t know, I swear I didn’t know. I want my children. I didn’t know.’
Kim tipped her head. ‘Really? The wife tends to disbelieve it until she’s shown proof. You haven’t seen any proof yet, have you, Mrs Dunn?’
Her eyes darted everywhere but back at Kim. ‘I swear to you, I didn’t know.’
Kim leaned forward, the image of Daisy fresh in her mind. ‘You’re a lying bitch. You knew. You’re their mother and you allowed them to be damaged forever. I hope you never know a moment’s peace for the rest of your miserable damn life.’
Bryant appeared beside her. ‘Guv … ’
Kim dragged her gaze away from the trembling woman and turned round.
She looked over Bryant’s shoulder, straight into the eyes of the man responsible for ensuring that two young girls would never view the world as they should. Everything else in the house faded away and for a few seconds it was just the two of them.