Her Final Hour: An absolutely unputdownable mystery thriller

by Carla Kovach

  Leaning on the wall, she pulled her body to a standing position and took one step, then another. She couldn’t hear her surroundings as her heartbeat was so erratic. Pain flashed through her chest. The pain was back. Was she having a heart attack? She took a deep breath. She’d had this pain a lot in the past, when she’d packed up drinking. At the time, drinking was the only thing that both caused it and eased it. Take a deep breath, she told herself, and get a move on – quick.

  As she ran from the side of the house, she spotted the back gate. Now! She stumbled forward as she sprinted over the back garden, treading on a weed filled flowerbed. Her right ankle turned slightly as the back security light came on. Ignoring the pain, she darted to the back gate. Her hand searched for the lock. It was a slide across.

  ‘What are you doing in my garden?’ the voice boomed out as the back door was flung open. She slid the lock and opened the gate, hobbling into the darkness.

  His footsteps crunched on undergrowth as he caught up quicker than she would have expected. Her only option was to hide out until he’d gone.

  ‘Where are you?’ he sang in a taunting way. His taunts turned into laughter. ‘I saw you hobbling. I know you can’t be too far away. Why were you at my house? Come out, come out.’

  The sound of his voice took her straight back to that night. He’d seemed like just a normal guy in a bar. She’d trusted him when she’d taken the drink. Tears continued to fall as she shuffled closer to a tree stump, hoping he wouldn’t spot her. All those fragmented dreams that she’d had over the years came flooding back as she heard his voice. A memory of being in the back of a car crossed her mind, him looking down at her, shouting at her, then forcing her to turn over in the confined space. Tears fell. She let out a sob.

  ‘I’m getting closer. I wonder who you are. Do you like playing hide and seek? I do. I love hide and seek.’

  She held her breath as he began to walk away in the opposite direction. Her phone beeped as a message came through. Becky.

  Give me a call. I’m worried about you.

  He ran towards her in a flash. She stood and hopped along, trying to escape his grasp, but he was closing in on her. She gasped for breath and held her pounding chest. She loved Becky so much, she just wanted to be home in their cosy little flat, in Becky’s arms, talking about their future – instead, the man who’d haunted her for years was now upon her.

  ‘Get away from me,’ she yelled as she continued to jog and hop, fighting the pain in her ankle.

  ‘I win.’ He grabbed her hood, yanking her back.

  ‘No!’ He dragged her towards the house. ‘Help,’ she yelled as she caught sight of the plough through a break in the trees.

  ‘No one’s listening,’ he shouted. Then, a flash of pain radiated from her nose as she took her first blow. The woods went black as she took her second.

  Twenty-Five

  Sunday, 15 April 2018

  Gina sat eating a flapjack as she brought up Melissa’s file on her computer screen. There was a tap at her office door and Jacob entered.

  ‘Did I miss out?’ Jacob asked.

  ‘No. O’Connor’s wife hasn’t been baking anything today. I grabbed this for breakfast, on the way in.’ She took another bite as she scrolled down the file. ‘Want a bite?’ she asked as she held the flapjack towards Jacob.

  ‘No, guv. I’m trying to cut down on eating so much sugary shit but this place isn’t helping.’

  Gina laughed as she finished the last bite, rolled up the wrapper and flung it in the bin. ‘Me too. My good intentions only normally last until the next morning, when Mrs O sends O’Connor to work with a batch of fresh bakes. I could do with cutting down, losing a few pounds and all that,’ she replied as she fidgeted in her chair. That was a lie. Since her split with Briggs she was barely eating at home and had been struggling to maintain her calorific intake. Even her all-inclusive break away hadn’t been enough to entice her to put her weight back on.

  ‘If you don’t mind me saying, boss, you’ve been a bit quiet the past few days. Is everything all right?’

  ‘It’s all tickety-boo. Right, where was I? We were going to take a look into Melissa’s life outside the home.’ She continued reading Melissa’s information, while avoiding eye contact from her concerned colleague. ‘Oh, tell me the extension came through to keep Jimmy for another twelve hours.’

  ‘That’s why I came. The Supers agreed that there’s enough to keep him on. I saw Briggs in the incident room and he told me. We have until nine this evening to keep him.’

  ‘Good, he’s still our most viable suspect at this stage.’ Gina kept scrolling down. ‘Damn. We best get a move on.’ She squinted as she leaned in to read further. ‘I see Wyre has updated Melissa Sanderson’s records. Looks like her mother only lives in Kings Norton. We should speak to her, get to know Melissa a little better. Maybe she opened up to her, confided in her. Will you call her? If she’s in, I’ll pay a visit.’

  ‘Will do. I was going to work with O’Connor on looking into Darrel’s friends, the ones mentioned by Phipps.’

  ‘That’s great. We need to know what’s been going on between them. I’ll take Wyre with me to visit Annabelle Hewson. See if she can shed any light on who might have wanted to hurt her daughter.’

  ‘And I’ll keep digging this end into Phipps’ information and let you know if I come across anything.’ Jacob smiled as he left her office.

  Apart from spending time with Suzanna Barker, Jimmy Phipps and her husband Darrel, Melissa didn’t seem to mix much. Hopefully her mother could provide them with the information they so desperately needed.

  Gina’s phone began to ring. ‘DI Harte.’

  ‘DI Harte, can you tell me if James Phipps is being further detained for questioning on the murder of Melissa Sanderson?’

  She leaned forward in her chair. ‘Who is this?’

  ‘Lyndsey Saunders, Warwickshire Herald. The public have a right to know if they are in danger and we have a duty to spread the news, especially if the community are at risk.’

  ‘This number is used for police investigation work. You’ve mistaken me for the Corporate Communications Department and you know full well they are who you’re meant to speak with. Please don’t call again as you are hindering the investigation by tying up this line.’ She slammed the phone down.

  Wyre knocked and entered. ‘Jacob mentioned a visit to Melissa’s mother’s.’

  ‘Yes. Grab your coat. We’re off to Birmingham.’

  Twenty-Six

  Gina drove to Kings Norton in Birmingham. Wyre gazed out of the window in a world of her own as they spotted the skyscraper. ‘When did you speak to Annabelle Hewson?’

  ‘Yesterday. Mr Sanderson had already called her. The woman was distraught and didn’t really want to say much. She did ask when the funeral would be. I explained that we were still conducting investigations and, due to the nature of Melissa’s death, her body wasn’t ready for release as yet. She wasn’t taking any of it in though. Poor woman.’

  Gina stopped at a junction and watched as a mother with three young children crossed the road. ‘Poor woman, indeed. Is there a Mr Hewson or a father in the picture?’

  ‘No, and Miss Hewson never married. Mr Sanderson said that Melissa’s father deserted her and her mother. I don’t know what happened there. Maybe Miss Hewson will give us more information.’

  Paula Wyre looked out of the window again.

  ‘How’s things with you?’ Gina asked.

  ‘Much the same,’ Wyre replied. ‘I visit my father still on occasion. He’s the same bigoted bastard he always was, but now he’s started being more active, attending English Defence League marches and taking part in their campaigns. I keep away from him.’

  ‘Sounds like a nightmare. There’s no harm in putting yourself first and you should. How are things going with George?’

  ‘He’s great. George and I have been seeing each other for three months now. He keeps asking why I haven’t introduced him to my fam
ily. We are always around his. His mother’s lovely, we go there for dinner. His nephews and nieces love me. They think I’m a really cool detective. We play cops and robbers and have great fun.’ She paused and began biting the nail of her little finger. Gina had never seen a nervous side to Paula. ‘I’m thinking of cutting ties with him.’

  ‘Your dad?’ Gina asked as she continued driving. It made a change to think about someone else’s problems for a change and she and Paula had become fairly good friends since the last case they’d worked on.

  ‘Yes. I don’t like him and I feel bad saying that. My dad’s just a low life and he’d never accept George or any of my other friends that weren’t white and straight. He also thinks my career is ruining my prospects of fulfilling my so-called womanly duties of repopulating the planet. For heaven’s sake. What century are we in? I don’t even know if I want to add to the population, ever. There are too many people in the world and we’re all ruining the planet.’ She paused. ‘I think I love him.’

  Gina smiled as she searched for a space to park. ‘Then he certainly sounds like a keeper. Stuff your dad. Your own happiness is more important.’ She gripped the steering wheel as she thought about Wyre’s comments. Her father couldn’t see the remarkable professional that was sitting beside her.

  ‘Thanks, guv. What about your mystery man?’

  She pulled into a space outside the skyscraper where Miss Hewson lived. ‘He’s no more. I suppose I’m just not in the market for an intense relationship and it was getting too serious. Maybe one day. Right. Time to see if Miss Hewson can shed some light on Melissa’s killer.’

  Twenty-Seven

  A few beads of sweat began to form along Gina’s hairline. ‘That’s me done in for the day. I hope they fix the lift soon. I feel sorry for the people who live here, having to do this every time they come and go,’ she said as they reached the twelfth floor by foot.

  ‘You should join me at the gym one evening.’ Wyre’s voice echoed through the stone corridor. It hadn’t been the first time Wyre had invited her along.

  ‘Never.’ Gina laughed.

  The door to Annabelle Hewson’s flat had once been green, it was now a dull grey with patches of green where the paint hadn’t worn off. Gina shivered as she tapped on the door. A damp chill filled the building.

  ‘Who’s there?’

  ‘Miss Hewson. It’s DI Gina Harte and DC Paula Wyre. We spoke on the phone a short while ago.’

  The woman slid the chain and opened the front door, exposing the dark flat. Her almost white, straggly hair covered her mascara-stained face. All the doors off the hall were open but each room appeared to be in darkness. The woman let the door fall open and padded across the fraying carpet towards the far room. Gina swallowed as the smell of ammonia caught the back of her throat. As they followed the woman, Gina spotted the cracked toilet leaking onto what was once a pink mat. All the curtains in the flat were closed. She could see that Miss Hewson had her problems.

  ‘I haven’t got up properly for a couple of days. It’s like everything has come to a standstill,’ the woman said in a thick Brummie accent as she led them to the lounge and offered them a seat. ‘Can I get you both a drink? I only have tea.’

  Gina shook her head. ‘Thank you for speaking to us, Miss Hewson. We really just wanted to have a chat about your daughter, Melissa Sanderson. First of all, let us offer our sincerest condolences.’

  ‘It makes me shudder to hear that name, Sanderson. She’s a Hewson.’

  ‘Why is that?’ Gina asked.

  Wyre took a notebook from her pocket and began heading up the page.

  ‘I always wanted better for my girl. It was just me and her until he came along with all his money. He seemed charming, to her at least. From the moment she met him, she was with him every minute, even followed him to London for a while. He only came here once.’ She paused. ‘I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, I can see why she wouldn’t bring a nice young man to a shithole like this, but it wasn’t always this way. I tried so hard. I kept two jobs down, kept the place half decent with the money I had, which was never much. I gave that girl everything. Worked myself to death and in return I’ve rarely seen my granddaughter. Now look at me. This whole flat is the product of what I’ve become. I’m just another nobody and my daughter is gone.’ The woman pulled a can of super strength lager from beside the sofa chair and took a sip.

  Gina sank into the settee. ‘When was the last time you saw your daughter?’

  ‘She visited at Christmas. Brought me a card and these slippers,’ she replied as she pointed to the filthy slippers she was wearing. They looked like they had once been a shade of lilac.

  ‘Had you heard from her since?’

  ‘She called me about once a fortnight, maybe once every three weeks. Mostly just checking to see if I was still alive. I never thought I’d have to worry about her life though. I can’t believe what happened to her.’ The woman burst into tears and swigged from the can.

  ‘Can I get you a cup of tea, Miss Hewson?’ Wyre asked, standing up.

  ‘No. I don’t need tea. I need answers. Was it him?’

  ‘Who are you referring to Miss Hewson?’ Gina asked as Wyre say back down.

  ‘Her husband. The man who controlled her every move. I’m convinced it’s his fault she never came to visit. You should’ve seen her at Christmas. Constantly checking her watch and fidgeting in the exact same seat you’re sitting on. She was here fifteen minutes until she dashed off. Whenever she called it was like she was always in a hurry, like she couldn’t speak. I knew he wasn’t with her but she doesn’t… didn’t want me to ask her any questions. We did have a row a month ago.’ The woman wiped her damp eyes on the sleeve of her oversized jumper.

  ‘What was the row about?’

  ‘I told her she could have her life, her freedom and that she could leave him. I told her she’d be entitled to some money from the house and she could start a new life. I’d been telling her this for years, but I think she’d finally grown a voice and was enjoying using that voice against me, instead of him. She let rip. Told me to stop interfering and that I was a stupid cow who knew nothing.’

  Gina shuffled in the seat. ‘That sounds harsh. How about her father?’

  ‘She blamed me for never telling her who her father was. I didn’t want to tell her he was some deadbeat with whom I’d had a one-nighter with after pulling him in a nightclub in town. He was married. I saw him around a few times after and decided I’d have nothing to do with him.’

  Gina glanced over at Wyre. ‘Can you tell me his name?’

  ‘Billy Quinton. It’s a waste of time looking him up, he passed away over ten years ago. I saw his obituary in the paper. He wasn’t all bad. I suppose I should’ve told him, given him the opportunity to be a father but I didn’t and that’s just the way life goes. Melissa resented me for keeping her in the dark. She resented me for not liking her husband. She resented me for not having any ambitions, for struggling to hold down all the dead-end jobs I’ve had, but such is life. I’d do anything to have her back though. I’d make it better. I don’t know how, but I really would. I can’t say I’m not full of regrets. I should’ve told Billy he had a daughter, but that’s something I’ve got to live with forever,’ the woman said as a tear slipped down her cheek.

  ‘I’m so sorry to ask you all this at such an awful time. Did she ever mention anyone called James Phipps?’

  The woman blew her nose and looked up as she shook her head. ‘Not that I can remember. She had a boyfriend when she was at school, called James. Whether this is the same person, I have no idea. What’s happening with my granddaughter?’

  ‘She’s staying with Mr Sanderson’s brother at the moment while we investigate further.’

  ‘Who’s this Phipps person?’

  ‘He was your daughter’s lover. I was hoping she’d said something to you.’

  The woman leaned forward. ‘She never said a thing. The only difference I noticed was that
she seemed to have grown a voice, as I told you, which she’d enjoyed taking out on me, like I already said. She had changed this past couple of months, she was less passive. She’d badgered me for information about her father. She’ll never know now, will she?’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Hewson. Here’s my number should you think of anything. Also, here’s the number of Victim Support. They’ll be able to help you. You shouldn’t be going through this alone,’ Gina said as they all stood. The woman sobbed. She almost stumbled and held onto Gina. Gina placed her arm over the woman’s shoulder, allowing her to bury her head in her chest as she cried.

  ‘Thank you, I’ll call them. I can’t carry on like this, can I?’ she said as she held the can up. She broke away from Gina and forced a smile.

  ‘Please do call them and call me if you think of anything. We are going to find the person who did this to your daughter.’

  The woman watched as the two detectives left the flat and they heard her slide the chain across as they walked down the stone corridor, back to the steps.

  ‘That was hard, guv,’ Wyre said as they began the long journey down.

  ‘It was. Gosh, look at the time. We only have Jimmy until nine tonight. We need to get back quick.’

  Twenty-Eight

  The throbbing got louder as blood pounded and whooshed through her head. Red, everything was red and dark and ouch – he prodded her. Ellie yelped.

  ‘See, I told you she was alive. Your pills did the trick. I bet she’s had a lovely sleep,’ her captor said.

  Pain flashed from her tailbone to the middle of her back. Her nose. What had happened to her nose? Her head ached like mad. She gazed around the room and then back at their faces. It was morning. As she gazed at the window through blurry eyes, a flash of pain shot through her whole body. The short woman stared, open-mouthed, as if she was about to blurt something out. Her unruly curls looked as if she hadn’t tended to them for weeks, one curl matting into the other, forming clumps. In another life, she’d love to have painted her portrait. Her every feature looked pained and bedraggled.