Gut Instinct

by Linda Mather

  He thought back to the note left with the body, maybe there was something more to that, some sort of clue “Guess who” was that a message for them or for her, or for someone close to her, a boyfriend perhaps, that no-one knew about.

  The ex husband was coming back early and should land in England tomorrow and he was coming in to be interviewed perhaps something might come out of that, some further leads.

  He finished his meal and fell asleep in the warmth of his living room, lulled by the soft voice of Catherine Jenkins.

  Chapter Six

  My memories haunt me day and night now; the dreams are no longer pleasant ones. I have no respite at all from the horrors that she put me through.

  I am two or three years old, still in my pram, so maybe younger. We were going to the park, I was excited I didn’t even know what the park was but I was still excited. She wasn’t very happy, my clothes were creased I had to look my best she’d said.

  “What sort of mother am I to take my son to the park in creased clothes?”

  She had taken the iron out of the cupboard and plugged it in. I sat quietly, even at this age I knew that I had to be quiet, listening to the hissing of the water in the iron as it was heating up, watching her putting together a picnic of ham and cheese and blackcurrant juice.

  I watched as she preened herself, admiring herself in the cracked mirror standing on the window ledge. I smelt the lemon perfume as she over indulged and the fumes drifted into my pram, and me trying to stifle a cough so as not to annoy her.

  Then it happened.

  She sprayed the steam onto my white cotton shirt, the creases dropping out as the heat of the vapour touched the fine material, the smile on her face as her little boy was beginning to look well turned-out.

  Then I screamed, I screamed louder than I have ever screamed before as the mist of burning heat touched my skin.

  She had ironed my shirt with me still in it!

  The pain was agonising, the physical and psychological scars are still a constant reminder of the one and only day that we went to the park.

  Oh, yes we still went, there was a man who went there every Saturday you see, took his own child. He was a divorcee and these were his access visits. Mother thought she had a chance with him, but I spoilt it for her – I couldn’t stop crying, no matter how hard I tried the pain was just too much.

  The man, he left the park soon after we arrived, couldn’t stand my crying, I drove him away, as no man was going to want my mother with a screaming baby in tow, were they?

  At least that was what she said.

  For days after she would scream at me, torture me; refuse to feed me because of what I had done.

  I didn’t care I was drifting in and out of sleep, shivers one minute and overwhelming heat the next.

  This I think was when I had my first of many dreams, pleasant dreams, dreams of snow and dreams of rain pouring down on to my body, feeling the coldness on my face and on the wound that still remains today.

  **********

  I’d watched her for awhile that night, gyrating her body on the dance floor, enjoying the perverted attention of the men in the room, throwing her head back in laughter, enjoying herself while her child was most probably left alone at home, scared and hungry.

  I watched most of them on a Friday night in there short skirts suspended above cellulite ridden legs, their low tops abundant with saggy stretch marked breasts, and their grotesque over made up faces, trying to hide their wrinkled, aged features.

  They were just like her, just like her.

  I watched them pick up men, I followed them to their neglected homes and saw them seduce and have sex with this wanton species.

  She’d let me in as soon as she had seen the tears, made me a cup of tea. Tea and sympathy that’s what I got. Tea and fucking sympathy! If only she’d given me that all those years ago, instead of sour milk and maltreatment.

  Did she think I was going to let her off, forgive her now she was being nice. It was too late bitch. It was far too late.

  Her house was a mess, dinner pots still left on the draining board, the stale remnants of food becoming hard on the plates.

  Where was the child, there was no cupboard under the stairs, nowhere to hide him, but he’d be there he knew it, she’d perhaps found a new hiding place by now.

  Afterwards, I gave her the card.

  ”There you go mother, a mother’s day card, I made it for you, see I didn’t forget this year. I remembered.”

  I remembered every year after my tenth birthday; the scars would not let me forget. I kept a notebook and marked off 365 days, no way was I going to be tortured again for missing something I didn’t even know existed until then.

  I hadn’t known what I was in trouble for at the time, but I had known I was in trouble, she made me eat my food off the floor, said I was no better than a stray dog on the streets.

  While I was doing this distasteful act, lapping my food up as quickly as I could, she stuck a poker up my backside.

  “That’s what giving birth is like son and if you can’t fucking reward me for what I went through for you, then you’re scum, do you hear me scum!”

  This was because I hadn’t made her a mother’s day card, hadn’t acknowledged all she did for me.

  So 365 days later I made her one, copied one out of a magazine, cello taped flowers onto a piece of card and wrote inside, presented it to her with pride.

  Only I was in trouble again, it was Monday, mother’s day was yesterday, I’d forgotten again…………….

  Chapter Seven

  Monday 10 March

  Monday morning Stephen had arrived bright and early and he had given his instructions to his team as they arrived in. Paul was a little downcast, but he would get over it. He needed to toughen up if he was to survive the police force.

  Derek and John were joking around as usual, this was how they survived, they were able to add humour into their day, and you couldn’t stay serious all the time with the things that they had to deal with on a daily basis.

  Humour kept you sane.

  “Any girl can be glamorous” Derek was saying to Vera, the only girl on Stephen’s team.

  “All you have to do is stand still and look stupid”

  At that point Vera’s pen went flying through the air, hitting Paul on the nose.

  “What the fuck……” he yelled, as Vera, Derek and John stood frozen but desperately trying to stifle their giggles.

  “Well that’s the fun over for now”

  Stephen walked in knowing that someone had to defuse this situation, and that someone needed to be him. Paul was not in a great mood as it was and had looked ready to boil over at any time.

  “Paul,” he added “What time did Jane’s ex say he would be arriving”

  “About lunchtime sir, if there were no flight delays, he’s due to land at East Midlands about eleven fifteen”

  “Okay, you and Vera can interview him when he comes in, but take it gentle he’s not a suspect and his son has just lost his mother, I’m sure there is some paperwork you can be getting on with in the meantime”

  “Sir” they both said in unison, and then headed for their desks to do just that.

  “Derek, John”

  “Sir”

  “Go see the sister again, see if she can think of anything else of significance now she’s calmed down a little…….. Oh, and if she asks about the funeral tell her we will let her know as soon as the coroner can release the body. We’ll all meet back here at four thirty for a debrief.”

  “Sir” they both replied looking completely downhearted.

  He knew he was possibly sending them on a wild goose chase, they knew that too, but what more could they do, but follow their tail’s until something fresh came along, some new evidence they could follow.

  It was a waste sending such proficient members of his team on house calls, but what else could he do, for now.

  The rest of the team he sent to speak with some of the onloo
kers that had spoken with the uniform guys just to clarify what they had said and to see if they had anything more to add, it was amazing how many people remembered something the day after but couldn’t be bothered to ring the police.

  Maybe he should have sent Derek and John to do that and the others to speak with the neighbours he thought, but it was too late now they were out the door.

  He liked Derek and John, they had been on his team since he started, he had head hunted them from another section, and they’d always worked well for him, respected him. He had a lot of time for them both; they were two of his best detectives.

  They had both worked together as a team now for four years and they were good, they were extremely good and obtained good results.

  They were a double act, and double acts were how two officers worked together in the police. The good cop, bad cop routines were often a standing joke but it was true and it worked.

  Derek had a shaved head and lived and died in jeans, he was the tough looking cop. The one the cons were wary of. Whereas, John he was the smooth looking cop, looked more like he should be working at the stock exchange than the police force in his designer suits. He looked the softer of the two, the one the cons would warm too and look desperately at for support, the one that they always felt safe with.

  But nothing could be further than the truth; Derek was the softie and John the tough one. Derek was physically tough, but John was psychologically tough.

  This confused villains, they’d have their eye on Derek, waiting for him to pounce, and then when they least expected it John would pounce, throwing them completely off balance, and this is when the truth would often come out. The con would be completely confused and disorientated; this was when they would say something they were desperately trying not to say.

  Derek was forty eight years old, married with three children. He had just remarried and his new wife had a good work ethic.

  She was a buyer for an international department store. She supported Derek’s commitment to his job and understood this as she was just as committed to her career as he was his. This had been lacking in his previous marriages.

  Stephen had gone to their wedding and they were a couple well and truly besotted to one another. She was a good looking girl, with a figure most girls would die for. Quite a catch, Stephen had thought and was unsure how Derek had managed to catch her, but hey ho at least he was settled now and could put all his energies into his job.

  Derek had spent most of his career in the police force working towards joining the plain clothes division and before joining Stephen’s team had been doing undercover work for the vice squad.

  John was married too, to his childhood sweetheart. They had had just celebrated their twenty fifth wedding anniversary, which is unusual for coppers.

  John’s wife was a stay at home mum to their two children and supportive of his profession. She was a pretty girl, intelligent and self sufficient. She kept the home fires burning while John concentrated on his career. Stephen had no doubt that John would be sitting in his seat in a few years time if he himself got the promotion that he was hoping for.

  John had previously worked in the money laundering and counterfeit money division. He was a hard worker and had taken more than a few felons’ off the streets.

  Stephen was lucky to have them on his team.

  Chapter Eight

  It was ten past four when the telephone rang on Stephen’s desk. It was Owen Jameson, the pathologist.

  “Hi Owen, what you got for me?” he asked praying that he had something.

  “Definitely suffocation from the pillow Stephen and my thoughts about time of death are spot on. No DNA though I’m afraid, nothing on her, looks like this guy kept his distance, nothing in her nails so doesn’t look like she put up any fight.”

  “No sexual assault?” Stephen asked feeling more and more depressed as the day went on.

  “No sexual assault” he replied.

  “So what the hell did he kill her for” he said more to himself than to Owen.

  “That’s your job Stephen, not mine” he responded amusingly “But I do have something for you”

  “What?” asked Stephen sitting up straight in his chair, all ears.

  “We’ve had the toxicology reports in; there was alcohol in her system…….”

  “That figures” Stephen said cutting him off mid flow and beginning to sink down in his chair again. “She had been on a night out”

  “……………..And Rohypnol”

  Stephen checked he had heard right and had put the phone down after thanking Owen for his help and asking him to inform the family if and when the body could be released for burial.

  Rohypnol he pondered the date rape drug with no rape, but was there a date?

  She clearly knew her attacker, there had been no forced entry and she had not put up any form of resistance. Well now we know possibly why?

  Stephen looked up, his team were gathered in the office and were all looking at him. He looked at his watch four forty five, he was late.

  He had got so wrapped up in his thoughts, he’d lost track of time. He jumped up and made his way to the main office, carrying some interesting news and wondering if they had anything new for him.

  **********

  Stephen was driving home on auto pilot, deep in thought. He’d not left the office until six forty five. His staff meeting had run on longer than he had expected.

  Paul and Vera had interviewed Jane’s ex and he had a cast iron alibi, being in Germany at the time of the murder, not that he was a prime suspect but it’s always best to check these things out. Often the first port of call in these cases was the husband or estranged husband as he was.

  He had told them that he had no idea who could have done this, did not know of any enemies that Jane might have and was unquestionably distraught by what had happened.

  The positive was that he was now going to quit his job and bring up his little boy, that was his first priority now, and he was keen to be kept informed on how the investigation was going.

  Or not going. Stephen thought still exasperated by how little evidence they had.

  Derek and John had revisited the sister and she had been pleased to see them, she was going to call them as something had crossed her mind.

  About four weeks ago Jane had been involved in an affray in her son’s school playground with another mother.

  Jane had been quite upset at the time because this was not her style, to be fighting in a school playground. A classmate of her sons had been bullying him and Jane was quite sensitive about bullying as she had been bullied at school herself.

  She’d approached the boy’s mother and attempted to speak with her to try and amicably sort things out. The other mother had turned vicious though and began pushing and shoving Jane, to which Jane responded by fighting her back.

  The other mother who had the reputation of being a bit of a ‘hard nut’ had come off the worse, and Jane’s sister wondered if the humiliation had caused her to go round and kill her sister.

  It was a long shot but Derek and John had gone round to see this mother, whose words had been

  “Karma,” when they informed her of who they were and why they had called.

  However this woman had been at an engagement party on the night in question and had provided Derek and John with the details of other people that could clarify this, one of those being a lawyer who was a cousin to the potential groom.

  He had remembered her well; he made quite disparaging remarks about her behaviour on the night, “made a right show of herself” he had said.

  The party had gone on until the early hours and she had been flat out on the floor highly intoxicated when the lawyer had left at around 4 a.m. So the lads didn’t think this was anything they needed to follow up any further.

  The rest of his team had chased up other witnesses and nothing of great value there.

  This case was becoming like a nightmare; the priority of the homicide division
was to get murderers off the street and usually with all cases there was something, some small titbit that when investigated lead to something else and eventually they had an arrest, but this one was not providing even a morsel of information to follow up.

  Stephen had updated them on the pathologists report and they had revisited the case once again.

  No-one could quite ‘get’ why someone had given her a date rape drug and yet not raped her.

  “Perhaps it was to subdue her” Vera had contributed “Stop her from struggling while he killed her”

  “He went along to kill her, it was definitely pre-mediated, to be carrying Rohypnol” Paul added “and of course the ……. erm card he left”

  “Maybe then this guy didn’t have the certainty that he would be able to overpower her” John added.

  “She was seven stone nothing John most guys would be able to overpower her” Derek questioned.

  “Maybe it wasn’t a guy” said Paul.

  The room went silent for a moment, while people contemplated this fact.

  Vera broke the silence, “Girls don’t usually carry around a date rape drug, maybe it was just a small guy, there’s plenty of you around” she said teasingly looking directly at Derek.

  This went on for nearly two hours and Stephen had left feeling that they were no further forward than they had been at the beginning.

  They were just going around in circles, so he had called it a night and sent them home.

  What the hell was going on here he thought are people closing ranks? Are the public frightened to say anything for fear of repercussions?

  There was something going on he knew that but just couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

  Somebody somewhere must know something and if anyone was going to get to the bottom of it he was.

  He pulled up at his destination and turned off the ignition and at the same time turned off his mind, something he had learned to do, otherwise this job would send you insane.