CHAIN REACTION an absolutely addictive crime thriller with a huge twist

by Bill Kitson

  ‘That’s true,’ Nash agreed, ‘but what we don’t yet know is the reason she lied. Let’s see what the victim’s sister has to say.’

  Nash knocked on the cottage door, which swung open at his touch. Light spilled out, but there was no response when Nash called out the woman’s name, following this by identifying himself. He signalled to his colleague to follow him. Then he noticed the blood drops trailing across the floor from the staircase. Nash returned to his car and took two pairs of overshoes and latex gloves from the boot, handing one set to the officer. They entered the building cautiously, both of them apprehensive as to what they would encounter. The officer drew his baton, ready to face any threat from within. Having checked the downstairs rooms, frequently calling the woman’s name without eliciting a reply, Nash was about to signal the officer to follow him upstairs when they heard a slight creaking sound from the upper floor.

  Nash signalled to the officer, who nodded and took a firmer hold of his baton.

  They reached the landing and paused, but could hear nothing. Nash pointed to his right, and opened a bedroom door. He flicked the light on, but the room was empty. It had obviously been the victim’s, judging by the male clothing scattered on the bed and a chair.

  Nash turned and pointed to the other side of the landing. He opened the second bedroom door and once more depressed the light switch. He stopped dead in his tracks and held up a warning hand, signalling the officer to remain outside the room, stepping through before closing the door on him.

  He stared at the young woman for a second before averting his eyes. Assuming the naked girl lying handcuffed by one hand to the iron headboard to be the victim’s sister, he addressed her, his voice gentle and reassuring.

  ‘Aishe, my name’s Detective Inspector Nash. I’m a police officer. Let me help you.’ As he was speaking, he lifted the blanket from the floor and draped it over the girl. As he covered her, he noticed the bloodstains on the sheet, on her body and on the knife she was still clutching in her free hand. He also noticed the blue, black, and yellow blotches on her skin, evidence of beatings he guessed had been delivered over a prolonged period. All the while, he was aware that the girl, who could be little more than twenty years old, was watching him with wide, terrified eyes.

  Rather than heighten her fears any more, he spoke again. ‘Would you mind if I take that knife from you? Then I’m going to get a female officer to come and help you.’

  He gently removed the knife from her hand. She didn’t resist but remained still, watching him, her expression still one of fear and despair mixed. Nash smiled reassuringly and turned away.

  He exited the room and told the officer to fetch an evidence box. Once the knife had been secured, Nash rang Clara’s home number. David answered, his voice drowsy. When Clara came on the phone, Nash told he needed her at Wintersett as a matter of urgency. Then he phoned for an ambulance.

  For the detective and the officer, the wait before Mironova arrived seemed like an eternity. The only break in their boredom was when Nash rang headquarters to order a CSI team to the cottage.

  As soon as Clara reached Lilac Farm, Nash explained the situation. Mironova’s look of horror showed that she understood exactly. She donned a pair of gloves and overshoes as he hustled her into the cottage and upstairs.

  ‘You’ll need to find a key for the handcuffs, unless ours fit, which I doubt.’

  ‘Might the brother have them on him?’

  ‘Not likely,’ Nash told her, ‘when he was discovered in the yard he was wearing nothing more than his underpants. While you’re attending to Aishe, I’ll look for the keys. We need photos of the scene,’ he pointed out. ‘I don’t think CSI should be the ones to take them, do you?’

  Minutes later, he introduced her to the petrified girl, accompanying this by telling her, ‘Clara’s a very nice person, and she’ll take good care of you.’

  When at last Clara emerged from the room, clutching a bag of clothing for the woman, her grim expression was evidence enough that Nash’s guesses had been accurate.

  ‘I used the camera on my phone.’

  Nash nodded his thanks.

  ‘Luckily, my key fitted the handcuffs. I’ve wrapped her in a blanket, but I don’t think we should question her yet. She’s told me she stabbed him with that knife you took from her; apparently he’s her half-brother. They were the ones who carried out the market muggings and the other robberies. She told me he forced her into helping him and that she had refused to take part in any more. His reaction to that was that she was no longer of any use to him. That’s when he attempted to rape her. She was afraid of him and had secreted a kitchen knife under her mattress, and when he attacked her, not for the first time, she fought him off with it. I think it would be best if I take her through to Netherdale to the rape suite and get her checked out. She said there was no penetration, but the medics will give her a thorough examination and will photograph and document her injuries. Hopefully, they might find evidence to support her story. That could be vital, because if we can prove the attempted rape, that would make the stabbing self-defence. I’m not sure what physical damage the beatings and the attempted assault have caused, but I guess the mental scars will be with her for the rest of her life.’

  ‘I agree, and that’s very good work on your part.’ He turned to the ambulance crew. ‘DS Mironova will accompany you. And in this instance, I think a direct route to the rape suite will be better than accident and emergency, where her alleged victim is.’

  He turned to Clara. ‘We’ll wait until she’s safely out of the house before we get the CSI boys in. I’ll instruct them to pay particularly close attention to the bedroom. Leave me your car keys. I’ll get it driven to Netherdale HQ. You can collect it from there.’

  Chapter Ten

  As soon as the tail lights of the ambulance disappeared down the lane, Nash signalled to the duo of waiting forensic officers to enter the cottage and directed them to the bedroom. At the same time, he handed the uniformed officer a fresh pair of gloves and told him to accompany him back inside. They moved from room to room on the ground floor, and their search soon yielded dividends. In the small pantry alongside the kitchen, they found a generator.

  ‘That’s a bit odd,’ the officer said, ‘why keep a thing like that inside the house?’

  ‘At a guess, I’d say because that generator was stolen from Bishopton market, and they don’t want nosy people like us catching sight of it,’ Nash told him. ‘Check the serial numbers and I’ll bet you’ll find they tally. Especially in view of that,’ he added, pointing to the shelf above.

  The officer reached out and removed a balaclava and a linen bag bearing the distinctive name and logo of Shire Bank. A Taser tumbled out of the bag as it was lifted down. Nash picked it up and smiled at his colleague as the officer removed a biscuit tin from the same shelf. Inside was a large quantity of cash. ‘I think this haul means we’ve just solved the recent spate of muggings that were committed in the dale. I believe this Taser was used to subdue the landlord of the Black Bull and the market trader before they were robbed. And this’ — he tapped the tin — ‘is the ill-gotten gains. It will be interesting to see what our stabbing victim has to say about this lot when he’s shown them. They might help him remember how to speak — in either English or Albanian. However, I think robbery charges are the least of his worries, although I doubt whether he’ll know that yet.’

  When they had informed the CSI team of their findings, Nash followed this with instructions to the officer, who by this time had given up hope of a mid-shift break, that he was now required at Netherdale General with his colleague. ‘Go up there and arrest the bloke on suspicion of attempted rape and burglary. And, if necessary, handcuff him to the trolley, or whatever they’ve got him laid on.’

  The officer got back into the patrol car. This was not the sort of night he had been anticipating.

  Nash thought for a moment and rang Netherdale control room, advising the duty sergeant of his instruction
s to the patrol officer. ‘There’s a patient been admitted to Netherdale General with stab wounds. I need the officers to arrest him — and for you to put him on bed watch. If he becomes suspicious about the trouble he’s in, he might leg it.’

  Nash listened to the sergeant’s complaint about staff shortages and then told him, ‘They’ve spent most of their shift doing nothing, so they’ll be in practice. If he gets discharged, put him into detention. If not, leave somebody on it until the end of their shift and then find a replacement. By my reckoning, you’ve a couple of hours to allocate the manpower.’

  He ended the call, leaving the duty sergeant staring at the receiver. Nash’s tone and abrupt speech were totally unlike his normal laid-back attitude. ‘It’s not my fault you’re not getting any,’ the officer muttered, unknowingly putting his finger on Nash’s problem with devastating accuracy.

  Unaware that he had upset yet another person to add to his growing tally, Nash returned inside the cottage. Once the CSI team had completed their work, the house would have to be secured. He found a bunch of keys, one of which fitted the front door, another was a car key. He looked out towards the farmhouse and saw the woman he’d interviewed earlier about to step outside. He waited, noticing that she locked the door behind her, and then called her across.

  ‘Just to let you know, the man who was stabbed is likely to face some serious criminal charges as a result of what we’ve found in the cottage. Speaking of the building, it remains a crime scene, so on no account must anyone enter it until I give the all-clear, understood? I will be locking the house as soon as the scientific officers leave. They will probably be back tomorrow. Does your stockman have a vehicle?’

  ‘I allow him to use the farm pickup on his days off. Why do you ask?’

  ‘No particular reason.’ As he was speaking, Nash looked beyond the woman to the farmhouse. He thought he saw a curtain at one of the upstairs windows twitch, but in the dim light of dawn, it was difficult to be certain.

  By the time the CSI crew reported their work done for the night, it was almost daylight. ‘So much for a good night’s sleep,’ Nash muttered as he watched their van trundle down the farm track, followed by Clara Mironova’s car, which was being driven by a member of their team. It was far too late to consider going back to bed. He might as well return home, have a shower, breakfast and then go into work.

  Despite taking his time over his ablutions and morning meal, Nash was still the first to arrive at Helmsdale, even beating Jack Binns, who was normally there before any of the detectives.

  Having brought the station sergeant up to date with events, Nash asked Binns, ‘What do you know about the woman who owns Lilac Farm?’

  ‘Is that where that bloke and his sister with the unpronounceable names were living?’

  Nash nodded, and Binns asked, ‘So you met Olivia Brook, did you? I’ll bet you didn’t meet her twin brother, though.’

  ‘I didn’t even know she had a brother; I thought she ran the place on her own. Why did you say I wouldn’t have met him?’

  ‘John Brook doesn’t meet people. He stays out of sight when somebody calls and never ventures outdoors in daylight.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Poor John suffered a terrible accident when he was no more than a toddler. He wandered into the kitchen when his mother was on the phone. Being inquisitive, as most youngsters are, he grabbed hold of a pan handle and pulled the pan off the stove — it was filled with hot oil. That was over thirty years ago, when plastic surgery was nowhere near as advanced as nowadays; the accident left him terribly disfigured. He went to school when he was old enough, but the other kids were less than kind to him, so his parents kept him at home and hired a string of tutors to give him a decent education.’

  ‘What a very sad story. I suppose he doesn’t work, given what you’ve told me.’

  ‘Actually, you’re wrong. He’s a very clever bloke, and although he lives like a hermit, he designs computer software and sells it. I believe he’s very successful and well thought of within the industry. When their parents died, Olivia took over running the house and the farm. She does all the cooking, because John won’t go anywhere near the kitchen. Olivia’s a good woman. She sacrificed her own happiness for her twin brother. She was engaged to be married, and as far as I know still is, but she won’t leave John to fend for himself.’

  It was hardly the brightest start to the day, Nash thought as he climbed the stairs to his office. He hoped things would improve.

  * * *

  It was mid-morning before Mironova phoned from the rape suite at Netherdale General, to update Nash and ask for instructions. He listened to a brief outline of what she had learned and then suggested that they should interview the girl where she was. ‘I’ll drive over when she’s available. In the meantime, explain to her how the legal system works and see if she wants a solicitor.’

  Immediately after he ended the call, Binns phoned through to tell Nash that he had a visitor. ‘Miss Brook is in reception and would like a word with you.’

  Nash went downstairs and showed her into an interview room. ‘What can I do for you?’ he asked.

  ‘I wanted to know what’s happening about my farmhand. You suggested he might be in serious trouble. That means I’d have to find someone else to work the farm. I also wondered what’s happened to his sister.’

  ‘I can’t reveal anything regarding enquiries that are ongoing,’ Nash replied, ‘but I can tell you that your employee will be facing serious charges which, if he’s found guilty, could result in a prolonged term of imprisonment. The same might apply to his sister, but there is a measure of doubt in her case. It might well transpire that she will not be charged with any offences, but that decision won’t rest with me, it would be the responsibility of the Crown Prosecution Service. Forgive me for mentioning this, but you seem to be taking a great deal of interest in what becomes of them, unusually so for an employer of casual labour. Is there some specific reason for your concern?’

  ‘As far as the man’s concerned it’s simply a matter of making sure I have someone reliable to help with the farm. However, I have a brother, John—’

  Nash interrupted, ‘I’m aware of the circumstances.’

  Olivia smiled and nodded. ‘Thank you, that’ll be down to Jack Binns, I suppose. I wasn’t very open with you last night at the farm. I was returning from walking with John when we found Camlo. But we are worried about the young woman’s situation. John has taken a liking to her, and has asked me to intercede on her behalf if that proves necessary.’

  ‘I appreciate that, but I wasn’t aware he knew the young woman. I was given to understand that your brother doesn’t socialize.’

  Olivia’s smiled, but without much humour. ‘He doesn’t as a rule, but he made an exception for Aishe. It came about almost by accident. On occasion I need to go out, and John doesn’t like to be left alone, so I asked her, through her brother, if she would mind sitting in the house for the evening.’

  ‘And her brother agreed to this?’

  ‘He did, sort of, but only if he was allowed to be present as well. John wasn’t too happy about it, but he had no choice. When this happened, John said afterwards that although he liked the girl, he wasn’t at all keen on the man.’

  ‘Thank you. That might prove more useful than you know. I’ll try and keep you up to date with developments, but at present we’re only in the very early stages of the investigation.’

  After Olivia left, Nash went back to his office and made a couple of phone calls. The first was to Superintendent Fleming, the gist of the conversation being the potential solution of the crimes that had been nicknamed the market muggings. He also briefed her on the stabbing incident and what they’d discovered at the victim’s house.

  His second call was to the CPS, and in it, he put forward a hypothesis, asking for their advice as to how to proceed. The answer was less than satisfactory, and it caused Nash to remain in his office, deep in thought, until Clara Mironova phone
d to say the doctors in charge of Aishe had given the go-ahead for her to be interviewed, and she didn’t want the duty solicitor or need the services of an interpreter.

  Nash drove through to Netherdale and instructed Clara to tell Aishe they would start the interview shortly, but first he had to make a phone call.

  Ten minutes later, Nash entered the small room and smiled at the girl, who was looking understandably nervous. He nodded to Mironova before turning to Aishe. ‘I think Clara has explained that we need to record a formal interview. This is as much for your benefit as ours. In the event that you face any criminal charges, there should be a record of the questions we ask and your answers. You must also inform us if you require a solicitor at any time during the interview, should you change your mind. DS Mironova will conduct the interview along with a senior woman police officer, Superintendent Fleming. They will ask the questions. I will attend purely as an observer, and will only intervene if I believe there is something they might have missed. Is that all clear in your mind?’

  Aishe’s voice was quiet, subdued and a little nervous as she replied, ‘Yes, I understand everything. I will not need a lawyer yet.’

  ‘We have to wait until Superintendent Fleming arrives before we begin, so in the meantime, have either of you had anything to eat?’

  Both women shook their heads. ‘In that case, I think we should order sandwiches all round, because I for one am ravenous.’ He smiled at Aishe. ‘What would you like?’

  He nodded to Clara to follow him out of the room. ‘Will you look after her and get us all a drink while I go to the bakery down the street. When you interview her, just ask Aishe to describe everything that happened. If there’s anything you’ve missed, either Jackie or I will remind you. Otherwise, the ball’s in your court. Oh, by the way, try and make the coffee somewhere near drinkable. We don’t want to be accused of police brutality!’

  Chapter Eleven

  They had just finished eating their sandwiches when Superintendent Fleming arrived. After introducing her, Nash set up the tape machine. He turned to the girl and explained the technical side of what was about to happen. ‘Now, once this tape is running, I’ll do the introduction, which is also a legal requirement, then Clara will begin asking you questions. Don’t forget that should you want to stop at any time, all you have to do is ask. The other thing to remember is to speak clearly.’ He smiled at her. ‘The tape machine can’t interpret a nod or shake of the head.’