Playing with Bones

by Kate Ellis

  He crept forward. There it was again, the noise, like a muffled scream, cut off suddenly.

  ‘I’m going up,’ he whispered to Emily before climbing the stairs, two at a time. When he found himself on the landing all the bedrooms were in darkness. But when he heard a thud coming from the one on his right, he barged at the door and fumbled for the light switch.

  A tall figure was standing behind Polly, tightening the silk stocking around her neck. Polly had both hands round the stocking and was putting up a spirited fight. As soon as the light snapped on, the distracted killer lost his grip and Polly collapsed to the floor, coughing and spluttering.

  Brett Bluit turned and looked straight at Joe and smiled.

  ‘It’s over, Brett,’ said Joe softly, taking a step forward.

  Joe wasn’t prepared for the speed with which the boy turned and ran at the bedroom window, flinging himself at the glass and passing straight through it like something out of an action movie, before landing spreadeagled on the stone flags below.

  CHAPTER 29

  Emily rushed to the broken window with its jagged shards of glass protruding like a frame. ‘Pity there was no double glazing – the bastard would have bounced off,’ she said as she stared down at the limp body below, now the focus of attention of a dozen police officers, all milling about like sheep awaiting guidance. She shouted down to them to call an ambulance. However, the consensus of opinion was that Brett Bluit was dead.

  ‘Oh bloody hell,’ she whispered. ‘He’s just a kid.’

  Joe bowed his head in silent prayer for a second. Then he knelt down by Polly who was half sitting, half lying on the floor, too shocked to speak, and put his arm around her, holding her thin, shaking body close to his, feeling the warmth of her skin through her pyjamas. He shouted to the young policewoman hovering by the door to fetch a drink – something stronger than tea.

  ‘We should get her to hospital – she’s in shock,’ he said to Emily.

  ‘Never mind that now,’ Emily said, giving him an impatient nudge. ‘What about this double event? Where’s the person he sent the e-mail to?’

  Joe’s eyes widened for a second. ‘Make sure Polly’s OK, will you? I’m going to check on the kid.’

  As he walked out onto the landing there was an ominous silence. A thick, heavy quiet as though he were being watched by some unseen presence. Whether this presence was benign or malevolent, he couldn’t tell, but it was definitely there.

  The door to the bathroom stood open, revealing the sink inside, so the only other door must belong to Daisy’s room. Joe grasped the handle and pushed it open quietly, not wanting to wake Daisy up and frighten her if she’d slept through the commotion.

  But when the door opened his heart skipped a beat. A figure was silhouetted against thin curtains that glowed golden from the street lamp outside. It stood quite still, as though straining to hear what was happening in the rest of the house, a stocking stretched between its hands.

  The figure turned and Joe saw that it was female but he still couldn’t make out the face. ‘Don’t come any closer or I’ll kill her,’ she said in a hoarse whisper.

  ‘It’s over. Brett’s dead.’ Joe could see that the child in the bed was lying quite still. Either Daisy was fast asleep or he was too late.

  He held out his hand. ‘Come away from her. Come on.’

  The girl by the bed shook her head vigorously. ‘No way. You’re lying.’ She lowered the stocking and picked up a pillow that was lying by the side of the bed. She held it suspended above Daisy’s head.

  As the pillow began to descend, Joe stepped forward and grabbed Karen Strange by the arm. She began to swear, hissing beneath her breath like a viper. She was struggling and kicking out like a captive untamed beast and as Joe tightened his grip on her he felt a sudden pain in his hand. She’d bitten him, sunk her teeth into his flesh.

  He managed to pinion her arms by her side and push her out onto the landing where she collapsed to the floor. She crouched there looking up at him, breathless and defiant as if she was about to spring at him like a wild cat.

  Emily had just appeared on the landing and she grabbed the struggling Karen by the arm, calling for assistance while Joe rushed back into Daisy’s room. He dashed over to the bed and touched the child’s cheek, terrified of what he might discover. But when she stirred, he sent up a prayer of thanks. Daisy was alive and fast asleep, oblivious to the dramatic events happening around her.

  Emily had handed Karen over to a constable to be taken to a waiting police car and now Emily was standing on the landing, breath held, unsure whether the news would be dreadful or welcome.

  ‘She’s OK,’ Joe said in a whisper. ‘She slept through it.’ Before he knew it Emily’s arms were around him, holding him close in that moment of precious relief.

  They parted awkwardly, slightly embarrassed, and made their way downstairs, passing the doctor who had just arrived to pronounce Karen’s accomplice dead and to check whether Polly needed medical attention.

  As they stepped outside into the close Karen was being led away. Joe knew that he ought to wait until she was in the interview room with her solicitor present and all the tapes running, but he couldn’t resist asking the question. ‘Why, Karen? Why did you do it?’

  Karen Strange was about to climb into the back of the car when she froze and looked Joe in the eye, a smile of triumph on her face. ‘Because we weren’t like all those little people with their little lives. We were someone. When you’re dead, they’ll remember us … write books about us. We made history.’

  Joe found her words so appalling that he couldn’t think of anything to say in reply.

  Emily picked up a note that had been waiting for her on her desk. ‘Harley Jones left a full confession – scribbled it down before he hanged himself. Gordon Pledge’s conviction’s going to be quashed.’ She looked Joe in the eye. ‘Just in time to go and comfort his wife and daughter.’

  Joe didn’t reply. It was none of his business now.

  ‘No doubt there were plenty of film crews outside the prison eager to highlight the police’s gross incompetence.’ Emily buried her face in her hands. Joe knew she was exhausted. So was he.

  Emily looked up. ‘We’ll start questioning Karen Strange first thing and I’ve got to go with Mrs Bluit to identify her son.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Two in the morning. Good job Jeff ’s a tolerant man.’

  ‘Do you want me to come with you to see Mrs Bluit?’

  Emily looked at him gratefully. ‘Yes please. I mean, telling someone their only son’s dead is bad enough … but having to tell her he’s also a wannabe serial killer …’

  Joe gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘I never considered Brett Bluit as a serious suspect, not till Caleb Selly’s neighbours told Jamilla that he’d replaced that boy, Andy, on the decorating team. Then I started to wonder why Karen had kept so quiet about it.’

  Emily shook her head in disbelief. ‘I still can’t understand what made them do it.’

  ‘I believe they call it folie à deux. A psychologist would be able to give you chapter and verse.’

  ‘No doubt.’ She hesitated. ‘Karen actually said killing was fun,’ she said with disgust.

  Joe sighed. ‘Wonder if she’ll still think that after her first ten years inside.’

  Emily stood up. It was time to face Brett Bluit’s mother.

  Joe didn’t arrive home until four in the morning. With everything that had happened, he’d pushed Maddy’s return to Eborby to the back of his mind.

  He was glad that she had decided to go straight back to her own house rather than waiting for him at his flat. He needed time to think. As he lay there in the darkness longing for sleep to come, he kept seeing Mrs Bluit’s anguished face. It would have been easier if she had cried and wailed her grief, but instead she just stared ahead with wide, empty eyes and didn’t utter a word. It was as though something in her had died. Emily had seemed to understand. She was a mother herself.

  Mrs Bluit
had had no idea what Brett had been up to. She had had no idea what he’d kept in his room because she hadn’t been allowed in there for a couple of years. Brett was so clever, she kept repeating like a mantra. All the sacrifices she’d made to keep him at Hicklethorpe Manor – taking two cleaning jobs as well as her job at the supermarket – had been worth it because his teachers said he had a good chance of getting into Cambridge.

  Perhaps Brett had been embarrassed by a mother who cleaned and worked at a supermarket checkout to pay for him to stay there while his classmates’ mothers drove expensive cars. Perhaps he’d felt it set him apart somehow. Or was he just making excuses for the boy? Perhaps Brett Bluit had just been plain old-fashioned evil. Joe knew there was a lot of evil about – more than people imagined.

  He lay awake till six then dropped into a fitful sleep until the alarm clock woke him at eight. He stumbled from his bed and made a strong coffee. He needed to see Maddy so he dressed quickly and walked the short distance to her small terraced house in a pretty street near Canons Bar.

  He found her already up and dressed in jeans and baggy sweater. She looked pleased with herself and a little excited. As he sat down on her saggy leather sofa and accepted a cup of coffee, he felt reluctant to ask the inevitable question. But he couldn’t avoid it for ever.

  ‘Well?’ he heard himself saying. ‘Tell us about London.’

  She played with a stray auburn curl for a few seconds and took a sip of coffee before answering. ‘I never thought I stood a chance. I mean the British Museum … you can’t get much better than that, can you?’

  Joe caught the passion in her voice and he knew what was coming. ‘They’ve offered you the job?’

  She looked at him for a few moments and he could see a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. Suddenly he felt a glimmer of hope. She’d decided to stay in Eborby. But her next words made his heart lurch. ‘It’s a chance that only comes along once in a lifetime. There’s a good train service from Eborby … only takes a couple of hours,’ she said with what sounded like desperation. ‘You can come down and see me most weeks.’

  Joe put his hand on hers. ‘Course I can.’

  ‘And I’ll be back quite often. I mean you’re here and all my friends and …’

  He took a deep breath. He hadn’t known how he was going to feel when the news finally came and the depth of his emotion surprised him. He had taken Maddy for granted while he clung desperately to Kaitlin’s memory. Perhaps this was his punishment.

  ‘Congratulations anyway,’ he said, although the words stuck in his throat. He took her in his arms and kissed her but after a few seconds she pulled away, a preoccupied half smile on her face.

  ‘What about you?’ she said suddenly. ‘What’s been happening with these murders in Singmass Close? The papers have been full of it.’ Joe could tell that her mind was taken up with the new London job and that she was only asking out of politeness. How was your day? He gave her an edited account of the previous night but he didn’t feel like going into detail. Maybe in a few days’ time, he could face talking about it. In the meantime Mrs Bluit’s pale face haunted him.

  ‘What’s the matter,’ she asked, looking into his eyes.

  ‘Well, it’s just struck me that you’re actually leaving.’

  She turned her head away. ‘Well, it was you who didn’t want commitment.’

  He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. She was right, of course. It was his own fault.

  ‘I’d better go,’ he said and as he stood up he felt that he’d suddenly changed from lover to visitor; a subtle alteration but undoubtedly there.

  He said goodbye to Maddy with a tentative kiss and made his way to the police station, trying to put her departure for London out of his mind. He’d have to face the reality of the situation soon but, in the meantime, he just felt like burying his head, ostrich style.

  He walked down Gallowgate, past Singmass Close, now cordoned off with police tape after the events of the previous night. After showing his ID to the constable on duty he made his way to number six where another constable guarded the door. The Forensic team were still there examining the broken window glass scattered all over the stone flags, some of it stained with Brett Bluit’s blood, but Joe avoided looking in their direction.

  The constable on duty told him that Polly had gone to stay with her mother. There was nobody in the house. But as Joe glanced up, he was certain that he caught a glimpse of a pale face at the window. Either the constable was mistaken or his eyes were playing tricks.

  He left the close and made for the police station. He hadn’t realised until that moment of disappointment how much he had wanted to see Polly, to make sure she was alright.

  When he reached the incident room Emily gave him a beaming grin as she told him it was her birthday – but not to tell the team because she didn’t want a fuss. Jeff was arranging a babysitter so they could go out for a meal that evening so clearing up the case had come just at the right time. Joe was about to say it hadn’t come at the right time for Abigail Emson but he bit back his words. It was good to see the DCI in such a cheerful mood. Over the past days she’d been under a lot of strain.

  ‘Gordon Pledge is being released this morning. It’s been on the news. There was a lot of bleating about how mistakes were made in the original investigation.’

  ‘Just be thankful it wasn’t our case.’ He hesitated. ‘I haven’t heard the news this morning. I take it they reported what happened last night.’

  ‘They just said an incident occurred in Singmass Close in which an eighteen-year-old man was killed and a woman arrested.’ She pulled a face. ‘I’m giving a press conference later this morning. Then all hell will no doubt break loose but I’ll leave that to the press office till tomorrow.’

  She picked up a sheet of paper and waved it in the air. ‘We’ve got a positive ID on the dead girl at the Pledge’s place. It’s Leanne Williams all right. And the post-mortem appears to confirm the Pledges’ account of how she died. But I’m keeping an open mind. Mind you, even if it was accidental, Sylvia Pledge is hardly blameless. She kidnapped her and forced her to work as a domestic slave. And she was drugged – that could have contributed to what happened. The CPS should throw the bloody book at her.’

  ‘Presumably, Gordon didn’t know what his mother was up to?’

  ‘Do you believe that?’

  ‘I think so. After all, he was in prison while most of it was going on. What about Alice?’

  ‘Settled in the nursing home. She keeps asking when her little Michele’s coming to see her.’

  ‘So nobody’s had the heart to enlighten her?’

  Emily pulled a face. ‘She probably wouldn’t understand if they did.’ She paused. ‘Apparently, Michele Carden’s been saying she wants to see Alice. Looks like she became quite fond of the old girl in spite of everything. Funny how things work out.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Karen Strange is waiting in the interview room with her solicitor. You ready?’

  Joe nodded, suddenly impatient to discover what had made a schoolgirl turn into a heartless murderer.

  Karen leaned forward, her eyes shining, as though she was reliving some enjoyable party or concert. ‘When we were painting the old man’s place, Brett was having a nose around and he found this box in the attic.’ She gave a small giggle. ‘I thought they were fingers but Brett said they were toes.’

  Joe glanced at the tape turning in the machine. Even the solicitor in the Paul Smith suit sitting by her side couldn’t control the eager flow, although he kept warning her that she was saying too much. But Joe and Emily wanted her to continue … to let it all gush out.

  ‘And you came across the diary?’ Emily asked.

  Karen nodded, a smirk on her lips. ‘Yeah. It was hidden in the airing cupboard. We read it while we were eating our lunch – me, Brett and Nat. Nat said it was gross … the old boy had been a bloody serial killer.’ Another giggle. ‘Brett said he wondered what it would be like to kill someone and I said w
hy don’t we try it … just to see how it felt.’

  ‘I really must warn you, Miss Strange …’ the solicitor said firmly.

  Karen raised her hand as if to brush him away like an annoying insect. ‘No, I’m going to tell them. They want to know and I’m going to tell them.’

  Joe glanced at Emily and saw that she was staring at the girl with fascinated horror.

  ‘It was all in the diary … about the dolls and cutting off the toes and all that.’

  ‘So you pinched some of the dolls?’ Joe asked, trying to keep any emotion out of his voice.

  Karen’s smirk widened. ‘Yeah. Then we had to decide who we were going to kill.’

  ‘Go on,’ Emily prompted gently. ‘Why did you decide on Natalie? She was your friend, wasn’t she?’

  The lawyer turned to interrupt again but when Karen ignored him he slumped back in his seat. He’d done his best.

  Karen snorted. ‘She was a pain. She used to keep on about how she was earning a fortune and how she knew secrets about people … even about Cassidy. She thought she was so fucking great. I really hated her.’

  ‘But you copied her,’ Emily said. ‘You even used to buy the same clothes.’

  Karen looked away. ‘Don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘I think a little part of you admired her. I think you wanted to be like her.’

  ‘Fuck off.’ She pushed her chair back hard and it scraped loudly on the interview room floor.

  As Karen’s solicitor put a warning hand on her arm, Joe and Emily looked at each other. Emily had hit a raw nerve. The identical handbag had been bought by Karen to emulate Natalie, not the other way round. Karen had been the subservient one. The dog that had turned on its mistress.

  ‘What about Brett?’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘What did he think of Natalie?’

  Karen hesitated for a few moments. ‘He really hated her. He asked her out once but she just laughed at him. She called him a loser.’

  ‘But he hung round with her.’