by Carla Kovach
‘Should I be worried?’
‘No, of course not. I know I said I’d been made a fool of in the past. We both laughed it off a little, agreed that was a normal thing. You know my first husband died. What you don’t know…’ She wanted to say, what you don’t know is I shoved him down the stairs to his death. I didn’t call an ambulance. I watched him die and only then did I call for help. I held my crying toddler in my arms on that thundery night as I watched him take his last breath.
He waited for her to continue. ‘You can tell me anything. What you say to me won’t go any further.’
‘For years, he used to beat me, abuse me and do worse things. That’s what I was holding back. Gina Harte – Detective Gina Harte, once allowed herself to be treated like a victim.’ She stared ahead, into the fireplace willing herself not to cry as her trembling hands betrayed her.
‘Gina. You’re the strongest, warmest person I know. To come through all that and become the success that you are, is nothing short of amazing.’
‘I feel like such a fool. I allowed him to do all those things to me. I could have taken Hannah and left. I should have left. I allowed him to beat and rape me and the other night, when I got attacked—’
He held her. ‘Shh. No one allows someone to beat and rape them. Do you hear me? You’re not a fool. Don’t say that.’
Had she done the right thing, telling him? ‘I don’t like to think about it, ever, but I can’t get it out of my head, especially since the other night. Get this, I was convinced someone had been in my house the other night. They hadn’t been, but all these thoughts about Terry have been messing with my mind.’
‘Did you book that appointment with the counsellor? You really need to talk this through, especially after the attack. You should take a few days off.’
‘I don’t need a few days off. What happened to me, in the past, is what has driven me in this job. I love this job. Gina Harte, child protection and domestic abuse – that’s where I started and it’s still close to my heart. Ellie Redfern, she was battling something from her past and we were too slow to help her. I’m certain her past involved the man who attacked me? Was she raped? Melissa Sanderson – why was Melissa always alone at home, drinking? Darrel Sanderson, the bruises on his daughter, the damage to his wife’s body. We have taken that little girl out of harm’s way pending further investigation. Of course, he blames Melissa. Easy target now she’d dead. James Phipps, what is he in all this? Clever murderer, or just some sad man who loved a woman who was out of his league? The press will be all over him now. At least if he is the murderer, he’s not going anywhere tonight. This case and others like it, they are the reason I get up every morning. I get up so that we can catch people like the animal I was married to and bring them to justice. I will continue getting up every morning to do my job so long as there are still people out there who need me.’ A stream of tears ran down her cheeks. Briggs wiped them away.
‘But what do you need, Gina? Look at you. You’re in pain, emotionally and physically. You need to look after yourself too.’ The doorbell rang. Briggs paid for the pizza and placed it down on the coffee table. ‘What I’m saying is. It all starts with you looking after yourself. Eat.’ He grabbed a slice and placed it in her hand.
She blew her nose and bit into the pizza. ‘You know what? I’m ready to face all this shit, including my past, well as ready as I can be, but first, I’m solving this case before someone else gets hurt.’ She paused and took another bite of pizza. ‘The perpetrator or perps didn’t plan Ellie’s murder as well. Too much was left behind. There was an element of the unknown with this one, something unexpected that caught our murderer off guard. Melissa Sanderson’s house was so clean of everything.’
‘I think you’re right. Murder one was well planned. Even your attack was well planned. He’d come prepared.’
‘Darrel Sanderson and his friends. Someone isn’t telling the truth. Or are they all telling the truth? They are all giving each other alibis, which seems convenient. Between each of them and the Angel Arms, it seems they are all in the clear but something isn’t sitting right. Did Lee Munro’s wife come home to a well-staged men’s night in? Will you pass me my laptop?’
‘Only if you eat another slice of pizza while we talk it through. Shall I grab my computer from the kitchen?’
‘I feel I need to be alone with my thoughts tonight. Is that okay?’ He nodded. She could see he was a little disappointed but she didn’t want to give him the wrong impression just because she’d confided in him. As he packed up to leave, she followed him to the kitchen. She played with the key in the door, eventually locking up. She knew better than to leave keys in doors. The other day had acted as a reminder of how she’d compromised her security. She grabbed one more slice of pizza and handed Briggs the box. ‘For when you get home. I’m sorry. You understand?’
‘Goodnight, Gina.’
‘Night, sir. See you tomorrow.’
Fifty-Eight
Wednesday, 18 April 2018
Gina had been exhausted after putting her work away at just before 1 a.m. and now she was back at the station for a 7 a.m. briefing. Briggs had dutifully turned up at six thirty to pick her up. Trying to flex her wrist under the bandage caused her nothing but pain and the stiffness in her neck and shoulder prevented her from turning right. The grey skies cast a dull hue into the tired room. Wyre, who sat next to Jacob, squirted a small mist of air freshener to mask the damp odour before she took a seat at the end of the table. Bernard began unloading paperwork from his bag
‘As we know, the forensic report will take some time to be delivered but after attending the autopsy, there are some things that Bernard and I can share with you. You will also see that the photos have been added to the board, and we will add further information as we talk it through.’ Gina rubbed her shoulder as she gazed at the photos of Ellie, charred and tied to the roundabout.
‘Bernard. What can you tell us?’
He grabbed his beard and stroked it from top to tip as he spoke. ‘Our tests prove that Ellie Redfern was dead before she was set alight. There was no smoke in her lungs.
‘I think the burning was a poor attempt at concealing her identity. The killer didn’t think that we’d find out who she was from her dental records. He probably never for one moment thought that so much of her would remain intact,’ Gina said.
Jacob leaned back in his chair and chewed the end of his pen.
Bernard began to coil the wispy end of his beard around his index finger. ‘We tested the cord that was found at the scene and made a comparison to the cord that was used to asphyxiate Mrs Sanderson. There was a direct match. Again, the cord was a standard polypropylene washing line cord. The blue colour was an exact match too.’
Gina rolled her shoulder and leaned forward. ‘Thanks, Bernard. As we know, the first murder appeared to be well planned. Darrel, the husband, goes to the pub, leaving his two-year-old and wife Melissa at home. On his return, he finds her tied to a chair and asphyxiated. The subsequent report shows that she was killed by the hands of the person who used this piece of cord, the same cord that was found at the scene of Ellie Redfern’s murder. Do we have the results back on James’ Phipps collection of denim?’
Bernard scratched his grey hair. ‘Yes and there are no matches to the denim that we found at the scene of Melissa Sanderson’s murder.’
‘Unless he disposed of the jeans after spotting that they were torn.’
‘There is that,’ Jacob replied.
‘I read the interview transcripts of Lee Munro and Ben Woodward.’ Gina looked up at the board. She could see that Wyre had added Lee and Ben to the board, with relevant notes. ‘We have Benedict Woodward. Head of Sales for Robert Dixon’s company. Forty-seven – married to Janet. One teenage son. Then we have, Lee, a carpenter, fifty-one and the host of the so-called party on the night of Melissa’s murder. Each one of the friends have claimed that they were together that night, at Lee’s house. His wife Jennifer was out, at a fr
iend’s house. From what I read, they were having a game of cards.’ She gazed at the board. Her mind kept coming back to the night of Melissa’s murder and the party they were all attending. Robert and Darrel were at the pub together. ‘Have we confirmed Jennifer Munro’s whereabouts?’
‘Is she a suspect?’ Wyre asked.
‘Everyone’s a suspect until we can rule them out. It’s not confirmed but we may be looking for a second perp, probably wearing size five shoes. Will you chase up Jennifer Munro, Selina Dixon and Bruce Garrison? I want their whereabouts checked out on the nights of Melissa Sanderson’s murder, my attack and Ellie Redfern’s murder. Anything not adding up, I want to know immediately.’ Gina’s head began to pound and the room swayed a little.
‘You really don’t look well, guv.’ Wyre gave her a sympathetic look.
‘I’m fine. If we didn’t have a double murderer on the loose, believe me, I’d be at home resting, but we don’t have time to rest. There is too much to do, not enough people to do it all and very little time. Two people were seen in the car by our lorry driver when he passed the park. Was Ellie with him, sitting in the passenger seat or was it an accomplice? If Ellie was with him, did he asphyxiate her with the cord when they were in the car, then drag her to the roundabout, tie her up and set fire to her? Why tie her up if she was dead? Was it for effect? To keep the body in place? Have we had any matches on the tyre tracks as yet?’
Jacob shook his head. ‘Not as yet.’
‘Anything come back on the vomit found at the scene?’
‘No, guv.’
‘I’ll be in my office. Wyre, will you visit Jennifer Munro and Selina Dixon? O’Connor, Smith will be back in this afternoon. Will you call Bruce Garrison and ask him to come in voluntarily and then interview him? If you can’t get hold of him, take a drive up to Stratford and visit his place of work. Jacob, we need to bring James Phipps back and verify his whereabouts for last night but I suspect that will be straightforward if the press have been camped outside. I’m going to try and make sense of all this information. Keep updating me as you find out new things. Jacob, also contact the DVLA, see if any of our new names have a black saloon car registered to them?’
‘Will do, guv.’
As she stood, the room felt as though it were moving. She wanted to be out there, interviewing, but her body was telling her otherwise. ‘Do you need a hand?’ Briggs asked as he helped her up.
‘I’m all good, thank you. I’m going to put out another press appeal and email it to Annie. Someone else must have seen a black saloon car between three and three thirty on the morning of Ellie’s murder, and they might just be able to give us a description.’ She pushed the chair under the table and managed to reach the corridor before leaning against the wall. She had to get through this pain. She had to find the killer.
There had to be a connection, something she was missing. The answer was close, she could feel it. Her mind flashed back to Wyre’s description of Mrs Dixon as a Stepford Wife. Then her thoughts came back to the Angel pub. Her past dealings with Samuel Avery, the landlord, had shown him to be a pest when it came to women. He knew the men that associated with Darrel Sanderson. He hadn’t told her their names when she spoke to him at the pub. Were Robert Dixon and Darrel Sanderson the same as Samuel Avery? Were they pests towards women? Were they all friends? Was Avery part of the trusted group? Was Phipps more calculating than he seemed? Darrel Sanderson’s little daughter, Mia; Mrs Dixon in her apron working in her kitchen – these mixed images flashed through her mind. Ellie – what did Ellie know? Had she confronted her past a little too closely? Had Gina almost confronted Ellie’s past? Would he have stopped at rape this time? Did he stop at rape or did he murder Ellie? As she stepped along the corridor, it seemed to shift slightly to the left, then the right. Eventually, she reached her office and slammed the door closed before exhaling and falling into her chair. Whether her light-headedness was all down to concussion, she’d never know, but she was feeling sickly and anxious. In her office was where she’d remain for the rest of the day.
She logged onto her computer and began checking on the news. She cringed when she saw herself featured on the front page of the Herald, staring directly into the camera, bumps and bruises on show for all to see. There was another photo of Rebecca slumped on the floor amidst the reporters. Ellie’s identification was out of the bag and the ‘Cleevesford Killer’ was now hot news. James Phipps name was mentioned everywhere. She threw her pen at the wall.
Fifty-Nine
‘Wakey, wakey, rise and shine,’ Bruce said as he opened the curtains. Natalie prised one eye open and was faced with grey miserable skies. A slight pattering of rain tapped on the windowpane. She lifted her arm, realising she was no longer tied up. He grabbed her under the arms and dragged her forcibly down the stairs before she’d had the chance to feel her feet on the ground. As they reached the kitchen, he threw her into a chair and began tying her up with the same blue cord that she now knew had killed Melissa and Ellie.
‘Are you going to hurt me?’ she stammered as he pulled the blue cord around her ankles and wrists, securing her. A quiver ran through her. She was cold, so cold. It was April but when the sun wasn’t out and clouds filled the skies, it was still chilly. In the thinnest of nightdresses, she shivered as she waited for his answer. Her groggy head filled with conclusions that all involved a painful death.
‘You had to interfere. Instead of just sitting back or sleeping like you normally do, you had to stick your nose in. I had it all under control—’
‘You killed a woman.’
‘I didn’t want to kill her. She came to our home, threatening the life we’d built. Threatening Craig and all that I’ve worked so hard for all these years, and you, you took her side. My own wife betrayed me just like Darrel’s betrayed him. I suppose the next thing you’d have done is sold me out, told the police. You’d have laughed while I was rotting in a cell. Sitting here in our lovely house, already paid for, operating a successful business that already runs itself with barely any of my input. You had it all with me, but I’m not letting you have any of it without me. I’m an all or nothing kind of guy and you know that. You’re going to vanish. They’ll never find you. Maybe—’ Bruce sneered as he walked over to the cooker, turned the gas hobs on and snatched a lighter from his pocket. ‘Maybe you die tragically after leaving the gas on. After all, you have history of being forgetful. Calling the docs all the time for more of your sleeping and anxiety pills. Getting rid of you will be the easiest so far. I collect the insurance, maybe even move back to Stratford if I have to and start again. Something I’ve considered before. I could have it all. You know Sheryl, the junior accountant, she’s always making moves on me. She’s young, full of energy, fun to be around, not a neurotic mess, like you.’
‘It wouldn’t take you long to turn her into a neurotic mess. You made me this way.’ Natalie began to sob as the smell of gas filled her nose, making her nauseous.
He teased her with the lighter and grinned. ‘Just one flick and I could end you. One. Little. Click.’
She screamed as she tugged at her binds, unable to budge them, even a little. ‘Let me go. Stop this. You don’t need to do this, please.’
He kissed her on the forehead. ‘You’re right. I should think this through. I quite like this house.’ He placed the lighter back in his pocket. ‘I’ll have to be a bit more creative. Maybe set you up as another Ellie, somewhere out there, flames coming from your head until you burn to a crisp.’
The times she’d genuinely thought he cared for her. She’d lived a life, bound by fear and he’d been the understanding constant in her life. The one who’d never pressured her to leave the house. He’d helped her, so she’d thought. He’d really been her oppressor, gaslighting her at every opportunity. If anyone had been disloyal in their marriage, it had been him. He’d lied to her, abused his power and her trust in him. Now he was deciding the best way to make her disappear. ‘All these years, there was nothing wrong with m
e. Before you I had everything, a promising career in floristry and I was in a band, until you told me I didn’t quite have the voice. You told me I was bad at everything, everything! I made the last garden nice and it wasn’t good enough. Everything I did was never good enough. The only thing that wasn’t good enough was you.’
‘Believe what you like in your airy-fairy brain, under that hideous hair. You wouldn’t have made it with your half-soaked songs, and those idiots you called band members were just that, idiot simpletons. Yes, the garden was okay. You did a good job of the garden. Feel better now that I’ve complimented you? Back then, you got pregnant and I did the right thing.’
‘I lost our baby and you didn’t care, even back then.’
‘And did I leave you? No! Then we had Craig. I married you, took care of you both, and paid for everything. I’ve worked like a dog for all this,’ he yelled as he turned off the gas. ‘So you can sit here all day in a pretty little house playing with flowers.’ He kicked the kitchen cupboard, making a dent in it.
She could see the cracks beginning to show. She wasn’t the one who was cracking any more, it was him. It was always him, she just couldn’t see it. He was the one who was close to shattering. ‘You can’t keep me here. It doesn’t need to be like this. You can just let me go and we can carry on.’ Tears streamed down her face.
He laughed manically and kneeled to her level. ‘You can’t fool me at all. Remember, I’m the master of manipulation. Let you go?’ He burst into fits of laughter as he massaged his temples and stared out at the garden. He grabbed his mobile as she sobbed, realising her fate. ‘Shut up with the crying. Shut up or I’ll shut you up. Do you hear me?’ He stepped into the hallway.