Dark Fragments: a fast paced psychological thriller

by Rob Sinclair

  I tutted, annoyed by her flippancy. But that was my sister. We may have been twins, but in many ways we couldn’t have been more different. She was the eldest by a full twenty minutes. I’d long wondered whether that was the reason she always acted so superior. She’d wanted to be the big sister all the time. Guiding me, telling me what to do. I’d run out of patience with that approach many years ago.

  No matter what I’d done to please her and others, Dani had always been the star of the family, and that pissed me off. We were both clever, both got near-identical results at school, university too, but she was the one who got all the plaudits. Who did what she was told, everything our parents wanted. In truth she was more outgoing than me, more engaging. She was kinder and more caring. Fuck it, she was a nicer person, and that was what really riled me. Why couldn’t I be the nice one, the one everyone liked?

  Just thinking about it was making jealously worm its way to the forefront of my mind. I mean, even the way she was sitting nonchalantly on my damn armchair: she should have been awkward and self-conscious, coming into my home out of the blue after so long, and yet she exuded confidence; she was completely in charge of the situation.

  Gemma came back into the room with the drinks and placed them on the coffee table in the middle of the floor.

  ‘You two catching up?’ she said.

  ‘Something like that,’ I said.

  ‘You really need to come more often, Dani,’ Gemma said. ‘The kids would love to see their auntie. They ask about you. Chloe too, even though she’s never met you.’

  Dani smiled, though I could tell Gemma’s final words had knocked her confidence a little. She was my sister, yet she’d never once come around to meet her niece. Chloe got birthday and Christmas cards from Dani, but so what? She was hardly going to be up for an Auntie of the Year award on that performance. Dani said nothing in return.

  When we’d last spoken, some four years ago, Dani had owned a swanky pad in central Birmingham – a flash apartment in one of many new-build blocks around Brindley Place and the canals. I could only guess she still lived there. Alone. She’d certainly been free and single the last I’d known – always more focused on the career, to which she was inseparable, than in finding a partner and settling down. In truth, though, I had no idea. For all I knew, she could have got hitched, moved out, had kids. I’d have been entirely none the wiser.

  Yet she’d been keeping tabs on me and my family over the years. She’d never even met Chloe, who’d been born after I’d last seen Dani, yet my sister had known when and where to send her a birthday card. More than once I’d wondered whether Gemma had kept in sporadic contact with Dani. I wouldn’t have been surprised, nor would I have been angry at Gemma for doing so. But Dani’s knowledge may just have been down to the detective in her, prying into our affairs from afar to keep informed.

  ‘So is there a Mr Policeman yet?’ Gemma asked, apparently still not ready to drop the perfect hostess act.

  Dani laughed nervously. ‘Oh, you know me. Always looking for the right one.’

  ‘You’ll find him,’ Gemma said, giving an uneasy smile.

  The fact was I wasn’t sure Dani would ever find someone to settle down with. She’d had boyfriends of course, and her looks had always got her plenty of interest from men. But none of her relationships lasted. I’d never believed she’d truly been into any guy, and my impression was that none of her boyfriends had got over the fact that she had to be so in control of every aspect of life.

  In the past I’d had cringe-worthy conversations with our mum about whether Dani might even be gay. I’m not sure my old-fashioned mum could have coped with that. But that wasn’t the case at all. Dani was into men. She was just into her job and herself more.

  It was the one aspect of Dani’s near-perfect life that our mum had never been able to get over. All she’d ever wanted was to see her daughter married off to a prince so she could produce some perfect offspring. It had never happened. When Mum had been diagnosed with motor neurone disease nearly five years ago, I’d wondered whether Dani might have rushed to tie the knot with some random guy, just to give Mum that one last piece of satisfaction. But she hadn’t.

  Mum had passed away less than twelve months after her diagnosis. In just a few short months the disease had eaten away at her body and mind, tearing her apart organ by organ, limb from limb, so that she faded away to nothing before our eyes. Not long after she passed, Dani and I had parted ways indefinitely. Caught up in our own selfish grief, we’d pushed each other away when we should have been there for each other. But such is life. I guess we’d never thought at the time that our separation would go on for so long. As the weeks, months and finally years went by, it had simply become the norm.

  Which brought me back to a very important point.

  ‘What are you doing here, Dani?’ I said, aware that my tone had been harsher than I intended.

  Dani stopped mid-sip and both she and Gemma looked over at me. I thought about backing down, apologising for my abruptness, but I didn’t.

  ‘We need to talk,’ Dani said.

  ‘About what?’ I said.

  ‘Gemma, do you think you could give us a minute?’

  Gemma frowned and gave me a questioning look. I nodded to her.

  ‘Yeah, of course,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a phone call to make anyway.’

  Her words, taking me back to the conversation we’d been having before Dani had turned up, were a welcome relief, soothing some of the bubbling tension that was filling me. I needed Gemma to make that call. It was the only way I could see to get Callum O’Brady off my back.

  Gemma got up and left the room. I heard her feet padding up the stairs.

  I looked over at Dani, waiting for her to get to the point. She took another sip from her coffee, then set the cup back down on the table.

  ‘So?’ I said. ‘We need to talk about what?’

  Dani sat back in her seat. All pleasantries were now dispatched. Her face had taken on a cold, hard look. I knew she had a lot to say, but for some reason she was struggling to start. I didn’t push. I waited.

  ‘Ben,’ she said eventually. ‘I don’t know quite how to tell you this. There’s been another murder.’

  CHAPTER 9

  I’m not quite sure what I felt on hearing my sister’s words. Panic? Relief? Anger? Whatever the complex combination of emotion that washed over me, I’m certain it would have knocked me off my feet if I hadn’t already been seated.

  My sister stared at me. I could feel her steely gaze burrowing into my mind. She was a police officer after all, used to questioning people, getting them to open up. But more than that, she was my twin. Many twins claim to have an almost telepathic relationship with their sibling. That’s simply bullshit. I’d never been able to read my sister’s mind. Once, when we were younger and much closer, I could have hazarded a guess at her thoughts. I wondered what she was thinking in that moment. In fact, I really wanted to know. But I had no idea.

  I sensed she was wondering the same thing of me. The truth was, I wasn’t sure what to think. My brain was in turmoil. Alice had been murdered, in our own home, in our bedroom. That was seven long, harrowing years ago. No-one had ever been convicted of the crime. No-one had been charged. No-one had even been arrested.

  It’s hard for me to describe how that made me feel. Knowing that the killer of my first wife, Alice, the love of my life, had never been brought to justice, was still walking the streets. It was something I tried to think about as little as possible. Yet here was my sister, in my house for the first time in years, bringing all of those unanswered questions, all of the heartache and the turmoil that I tried each day to lock away inside me, back to the surface.

  Dani broke the uneasy silence: ‘We think it’s the same killer.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘The police. The investigation team.’

  My sister had understood the simple question. She’d had nothing to do with the investigation into Alice’s death. Not of
ficially anyway. How could she when she was my twin? On top of that, she had been Alice’s best friend. It was through my sister that I’d met my first wife.

  Alice’s death had hit us both hard. Dani and I had been a lot closer to each other back then than we were now. For months, as the investigation faltered and stalled and eventually stopped, Dani – from the sidelines – had done her best to keep me informed of what was happening. Of all of the ultimately fruitless leads that had been followed. Even of the identity of some of the potential suspects who’d been thrown into the mix but then disregarded without so much as a single arrest.

  We both knew she’d crossed the line professionally back then. That was a big step for her – glued to her job as she was. She was a stickler for the rule of law, but had pushed her own ethics and professionalism aside in that time of need. Whether that was more for my benefit or hers I wasn’t sure. Either way, it was certainly a disciplinary offence to have divulged so much to me; possibly she’d even broken the law. I’d never asked that of her. It had been a natural sibling response. She’d wanted to help me, and with her hands tied behind her back by the police’s internal code, telling me those details in secret was the only way she could.

  I sensed from her answer that whatever the circumstances of this new murder, she was now on the sidelines just as she had been seven years ago.

  And here she was, in my house.

  ‘I’m guessing you’re not here in an official capacity then?’ I asked.

  ‘I was, initially, assigned to the new case. But when it became clear it might be linked … obviously I can’t be on it now.’

  ‘But you’ve come to tell me about it?’

  ‘I wanted you to know. I know we’re not exactly on good terms but you’re still my brother. And I still want to do whatever little I can to help catch Alice’s killer.’

  ‘How can they think it’s linked?’ I said. ‘Fingerprints? DNA? There were none found in our house, other than mine and Harry’s and Alice’s parents’, right?’

  ‘The same here. No trace of third-party DNA. No fingerprints.’

  ‘No suspects?’

  ‘No. But the circumstances are … similar.’

  ‘Similar? In what way?’

  ‘No evidence of a break-in, no evidence at all as to how the killer entered the property, in fact. Both scenes were wiped clean professionally. I’m not just talking a quick clean with a feather duster – like I said, no trace of the killer. Plus, the way both victims were killed, strangled and then … arranged.’

  I cringed at my sister’s words.

  ‘You mean … ?’

  ‘Naked. On the bed. A single white dove feather placed on her chest.’

  I took a moment to digest Dani’s words. The white feather. Dani had told me that the police had feared Alice’s murder could have been the work of a serial killer, the white feather being a calling card. I thought they had probably been watching too much TV. The hypothesis had never been made public and the police had found no other similar murders. Nor had there been any since, at least to my knowledge.

  Until now.

  ‘There’s more,’ Dani said. ‘We have a witness.’

  ‘A witness to the killing?’ I asked.

  ‘A witness who thinks they saw the killer, yes.’

  My sister paused. I waited for her to carry on. ‘And?’ I said when she didn’t.

  ‘And that’s about it. I can’t say much more.’

  ‘What do you mean you can’t say much more?’

  ‘I shouldn’t really have told you what I just did even.’

  ‘Then why did you?’

  ‘I’m trying to help.’

  ‘Help who?’

  ‘The police. The victims. You.’

  ‘Yourself?’

  ‘No. Not that.’

  We both paused for a beat and I let the information Dani had relayed sink in. But the vague facts she had given me really didn’t add up to much. What I did know was that Dani wasn’t in my home purely for my benefit. After all these years I just couldn’t believe that was the case. She’d had plenty of opportunities to make amends with me, as I had with her; I could have done it at any moment. For whatever reason, I’d chosen not to. As had Dani, until now.

  ‘So you still don’t know who killed Alice?’ I said.

  ‘No, we don’t. Not yet.’

  ‘What did the witness see?’ I asked. ‘The killer’s face? Have you got a suspect?’

  ‘No,’ Dani said. ‘Nowhere near that far yet, I’m afraid.’

  I shook my head. ‘But you think it’s linked?’

  ‘Like I said, there’re a lot of similarities. The crime scene. The movements of the suspect. How he was seen spying on the house – just the same as with Alice. Though it’s always hard to know how realistic such sightings are. I mean, they only ever come to the witness’s mind after the event. But I have to say, overall, when I read the police reports, it was like I’d been sent back in time seven years.’

  ‘And that’s the official line that’s been taken, or is this just your own personal hunch?’

  ‘It’s official enough that the link is being investigated further.’

  ‘It’s a horrible thing to think,’ I said, unable to hide the bitterness in my voice, ‘but I hope it is the same guy. Maybe this time they can catch him.’

  ‘I hope so too. But there’s something else I need to talk to you about.’

  I raised an eyebrow. ‘What?’

  ‘This isn’t on record. None of this is. This is me talking to my brother. I’m not officially on the investigation now anyway, right?’

  ‘Spit it out, Dani.’

  ‘I’ve been reading back through the case files from Alice’s investigation, trying to piece everything together in my mind again. Looking for anything that can help, any similarity to the recent killing, any discrepancy even.’

  Dani trailed off and stared into space. I imagined that I could hear the cogs turning in her mind as she thought through what she wanted to tell me. I looked down and saw that my knuckles had turned white, my hands were clasped together so hard in anticipation.

  ‘I read back through all the statements that were taken, yours included. I don’t know how I didn’t spot it at the time – I mean, I can’t even remember if I read all those statements. Maybe I did and I thought nothing of it, or I just glossed over it – everything was such a blur back then. But this time … this time it was so obvious.’

  ‘Saw what? What are you talking about?’

  My sister stared at me – a hollow and unforgiving look.

  ‘You lied, Ben. You lied to the police. And I want to know why.’

  CHAPTER 10

  I didn’t say a word in response. Above our heads the ceiling creaked as Gemma walked across the floor of our master bedroom. I willed her to come downstairs to break the icy silence. After a few seconds the noise above died down, but I heard nothing from the stairs off to my right so she must have been in the bedroom still. It seemed I wasn’t going to be saved so easily.

  Dani had me right where she wanted me. I thought about trying to bluff, but I could tell from the look in her eyes – her bad-cop look – that she was going to press for an answer.

  ‘So?’ she said. ‘You need to explain, Ben.’

  ‘I’m not sure what you want me to say.’

  ‘I want you to tell me the truth.’

  ‘What do you think I lied about?’

  ‘Don’t play me for a fool. You know exactly what I mean. You and Gemma.’

  ‘I didn’t lie.’

  ‘No? Well, it was as good as lying. Not one mention of her in any of your statements. You were seeing Gemma back then. You were having an affair. Did you not think that was relevant to the investigation?’

  Of course Dani knew better than most people the troubles that Alice and I had gone through. She had been Alice’s best friend after all. My infidelity had pushed Dani’s loyalty to the limit.

  My heart was racing. I really didn�
��t know what to say, largely because I knew that the more I said, the worse I would likely make things for myself. I huffed and glared at my sister. I realised with certainty that her being in my house wasn’t a call from the blue, a long-lost sister wanting to rekindle her relationship with her twin. This was Detective Inspector Danielle Stephens one hundred per cent.

  ‘No,’ I said as calmly as I could, ‘I didn’t think me seeing Gemma was relevant to the investigation. It wasn’t then and it isn’t now.’

  ‘Are you stupid? Of course it’s fucking relevant. It gives you motive. You know you were a person of interest.’

  I laughed with incredulity. ‘Motive? Motive for what? I don’t even know who this new murder victim is. Are you saying she’s linked to me?’

  ‘I’m not taking about the new murder and you know that.’

  ‘Alice? You think I had a motive to kill Alice? My wife? Are you crazy? I loved her more than anything.’

  ‘Loved her enough to be screwing Gemma behind her back.’

  ‘It wasn’t like that,’ I hissed.

  ‘Yeah, of course not.’

  ‘It wasn’t. And this is exactly why I never said anything when I was interviewed at the time. Like you said, I was a person of interest. Not because of anything I’d done but simply because I was Alice’s husband. Have you any idea what that put me through? Why derail the wider investigation to focus on me, which it inevitably would have done if I’d talked about Gemma? I wanted the person responsible for Alice’s murder to be caught, not for sordid rumours to be played out to all and sundry.’

  ‘But it would have been the right thing to do. You can surely see that. And it looks a lot worse coming out now.’

  ‘Is that a threat?’

  Dani didn’t say anything. I could tell she was mulling over her position.

  ‘No,’ she said eventually. ‘I haven’t told anyone. And I’m not planning to. This isn’t my investigation.’

  ‘Then why are you here? Why have you brought it up at all? Am I a suspect?’

  ‘A suspect in what?’

  ‘In Alice’s murder? In this new murder?’