Barbara grinned, looking more like her old self. “So what else is new? You’ll get there in the end.”
Paolo left the tent wishing he had as much faith in his abilities as Barbara, but so far he couldn’t even spot a connection between the two victims. He went to find Dave, trying not to feel as if this was a jigsaw puzzle with the edge pieces missing.
“Dave, I’m heading back to the station. I’ll call CC and get her to come in as well. Did you get anything more from the witness?”
“Not a thing, sir. I’ll see you at the station. I was supposed to be spending today with Rebecca, so I need to call round at her place on the way to explain why I can’t.”
“Tell her you’ll be free this afternoon. I’m not sure how far we can get today anyway.”
Paolo stood at the front of the main office, once again wishing George hadn’t sold his soul to the press. They really needed someone with his skills at digging into the background and making connections often overlooked by the rest of the team. Still, there was no point in dwelling on that. George was out of the force and lucky not to be locked up. Paolo made a mental note to draft someone in with research skills.
“Right, what have we got so far?” he asked.
“I’ve looked at it every way from here to Friday and back again,” CC said. “I can’t see an association, sir. The only similarity is that they are both medical men, but there it stops. The professor was a psychiatrist and Mr Fulbright a surgeon. From what I can discover, they have no professional crossover and no social connections either.”
“Maybe our killer doesn’t like professional people, or disapproves of the medical profession,” Paolo said. “No, it can’t be that. There has to be something that links the two men. We just haven’t found it yet.”
Dave looked up. “What about schools, university courses, lectures, that sort of thing? Maybe they attended the same conference or stayed in the same hotel?”
Paolo sighed. “That’s the problem. The link could be something so tenuous we might only see it when he’s finished working through his list of six. I wish I knew who else was on the list. It might give us a clue as to where to start looking.”
CHAPTER TEN
Paolo was still searching for a possible connection between the victims when Katy arrived at his flat to have lunch.
“Where would you like to go? After your brilliant suggestion yesterday, I’m happy to go wherever you choose.”
Katy grinned and flopped down on the couch. “It went well then? Score one for me. Where did you go in the end? Ice-skating or bowling?”
“We went bowling and I officially suck at it, but it was good fun. You didn’t answer my question about restaurants.”
“Um, what do you think about getting some takeaways delivered? It will make it easier to talk if we stay here.”
“Easier to talk? That sounds ominous. Is this going to be deeper than a discussion on your future career?”
“No! Yes. Sort of,” Katy said. “I need to ask your advice on something.”
Paolo felt uneasy, without being able to put his finger on exactly why. “Am I going to end up being blamed for any decision you might make?” he asked, trying to lighten an atmosphere that suddenly felt heavy. He’d expected Katy to reassure him, but the opposite happened.
“Not blamed exactly, no. But Mum might not be too happy with you. She’s going to call you later to ‘get you to talk some sense into me’ as she put it,” Katy said, making finger movements in the air as she repeated Lydia’s words.
The uneasy feeling deepened. “You’re right. Takeaways and a chat here is better than going out and not being able to say whatever is needed. So, what’s it to be? Chinese, Indian, Pizza, burgers or Thai?” he asked, flipping a sheaf of takeaway menus onto the small table next to the couch.
By the time the pizzas arrived they’d already started on the topic of what Katy intended to do with her future.
“So you see, Dad, when I go back to school in September I’ve already worked out which subjects I need to take to make it easier to get into a good university.”
“Are you sure you’re not wanting to follow in Jessica’s footsteps just because she helped you?”
Katy frowned at him as if he’d said something really stupid, then her frown cleared and she laughed.
“I’ve just realised. You must have misheard. I want to become a psychologist, not a psychiatrist, which is what Jessica is. You do know the difference between the two, don’t you?”
“I’m not completely stupid, but clearly I’m not as bright as I’d thought. I assumed you wanted to go into psychiatry because that’s what you’d experienced as a patient and it helped you recover after you were attacked.”
She grinned and picked up a slice of pizza, shaking her head before taking a bite.
“Nope,” she said when she’d swallowed the mouthful. “I don’t want to go into the caring side of it. That’s not where my interest lies.”
Paolo felt more confused than ever.
“If you don’t want to help people, then why take that path?”
“I want to get a BSc in Psychology and Criminal Behaviour. I’d like to go into criminal profiling. I want to help the police track criminals down.”
“Is this what your mum is opposed to?”
Katy shrugged. “She’s not thrilled about it, but I expect she thinks I’ll change my mind in a year or so. That’s the impression I got when I told her what I wanted to do.” She stopped and smiled. “No, that’s not what I need your help with.”
“Go on then, tell me what it is your mum objects to and I’ll see if I can help.”
“It’s my boyfriend.”
Paolo’s appetite deserted him and he pushed his plate away.
“I didn’t know you had one. I only moved out a week ago and you didn’t mention you had anyone in your life while I was living at home.”
“That’s because he’s only become my boyfriend this week. We’ve been chatting online for, like, forever and ever, but now we’ve met up and…”
Paolo felt the hairs rising on the back of his neck. “You met up with someone you only knew online? Katy, you know better than that!”
“Well of course I do! I should, you and Mum hammered it into me often enough. I didn’t meet up with some unknown man. The brother of one of my friends plays in the same Sunday football team, so I knew he was a real person and not some pervert out to kidnap me. I went to watch them play last week and…well, I like him, Dad.”
He should have been reassured, but something still wasn’t quite right.
“What aren’t you telling me? If your mum’s not happy there must be more to it.”
“She’s being unfair. Just because Danny’s brother got into trouble once, that doesn’t make Danny a bad person. You need to tell her for me, Dad.”
“Tell her what?”
“That it’s okay for me to go on seeing Danny,” she said, throwing her hands up as if the point she was making was obvious.
“But I don’t know if it’s okay. I’ve only just found out this boy exists. I don’t know the first thing about him. What did his brother get into trouble for?”
Paolo sighed. “Katy, look at me. If you keep staring at your plate I’m going to think you’ve got something to hide.”
She looked up and Paolo caught his breath. Suddenly she looked so much older. No longer a child, but not quite a woman.
“His brother was supposedly dealing drugs, but Danny says he was innocent. Mark was set up.”
“Are you telling me your boyfriend was…his brother was…Katy, no wonder your mum isn’t happy.”
“Dad! You’re not listening to me. You’re as bad as Mum. Danny didn’t do anything. Mark got caught and is in prison. Danny isn’t guilty of anything other than caring about his brother, but because he’s in a home people just assume the worst.”
“In a home? Why?”
“Are you going to hold that against him as well?”
“As well as what? Katy, stop co
ming across all defensive. I haven’t said anything yet to make you take that attitude.”
“Yet! You haven’t said anything yet.”
Paolo felt as if his world had tilted so far out of balance he hadn’t a clue which way was up.
“Let’s start this again, shall we? You like a boy who is in care. His brother is in prison for drug dealing, but your friend wasn’t involved. Did he know what his brother was doing?”
Katy stood up. “I expected more from you, Dad. Mum was always going to be prejudiced because that’s the way she is, but you? I thought you’d at least understand he shouldn’t be blamed for what his brother did and try to make Mum see things my way.”
Paolo also stood and reached out for her. “Katy, his brother was dealing drugs!”
She pulled back and put her hands on her hips. “And so? Granny’s brothers were all involved in crime in London. Did that make her a bad person?”
“What the…how…when did you find out about my uncles?”
“Granddad used to talk about her all the time before he died. He told Sarah and me loads of stories about Granny and why you moved to Bradchester after she was killed. So you see, just because Mark has a record, it doesn’t mean Danny is bad. Granddad said Granny was…”
Katy’s voice faded into the background. Paolo’s mind went back to a memory he’d suppressed and never wanted to revisit. No way was he going to allow Katy to follow that path. He snapped back to the present.
“I’m sorry, Katy. You know I’d back you if I could, but I think your mum is right. This isn’t the right boy for you.”
She stared at him without speaking, then turned on her heels and headed for the hallway.
“Katy!”
“What?” she said, turning back at the door.
“Don’t leave like this. You haven’t finished your pizza.”
She shrugged. “I’m not hungry.”
When she’d gone, Paolo stood in the lounge listening to the sound of silence and feeling a hundred years old.
An hour later, Paolo picked up the phone for the tenth time and then put it down again. He couldn’t put it off any longer, though. He had to talk to Lydia.
Her phone rang only once before he heard her voice.
“Paolo! What happened with you and Katy? She came home in a foul mood and went straight upstairs. She’s been in her room for the last hour and won’t answer when I talk to her through the door. What did you say that upset her so much?”
“I told her I agreed with you about this boy, Danny.”
“Oh! That’s not what I expected to hear. I thought you’d taken her side and she was mad at me.”
“Nope. She’s mad at both of us.”
The black humour in the situation made Paolo laugh.
“Great isn’t it? The only time we agree on something to do with Katy and it turns her against us. What’s the score with this Danny kid? I handled the situation so badly Katy walked out before I could even ask what his surname was. If you know any details I can check out the boy and, more importantly, the brother who’s inside.”
Lydia sighed. “I didn’t do much better. She came back last Sunday full of what a great time she’d had and how nice the boy was. I asked a few questions, found out about the brother and freaked out. Since then Katy hasn’t so much as mentioned the boy’s name.”
“Leave it with me. I’ll see what I can uncover. It might be okay. Did Katy tell you she threw my uncles’ criminal activities in my face?”
“No, she didn’t say a word, just stormed upstairs like I said. That must have been hard for you.”
“Well, it left me without any real strength in my argument.”
Lydia sighed again. “That wasn’t what I meant, Paolo.”
“I know what you meant, but I don’t want to talk about my mother. Not at the moment. Okay?”
They said their goodbyes and Paolo put the receiver down in its cradle. He didn’t want to talk about his mother’s death now or at any time. He couldn’t.
***
The pretender lay back, reliving the emotions he’d gone through that morning as he’d stabbed Fulbright with the needle. He’d expected to feel overjoyed, or at least justified, but his overriding emotion was one of guilt. There were still four more to go if he was going to keep his vow. Could he do it? Four more to kill. He shuddered. This wasn’t giving him the sense of satisfaction he wanted. Maybe he should stop. But then he thought about exactly why he was doing this. He remembered everything he’d lost. Everything they had taken from him. Why should they get away with it?
He glanced down at the piece of paper he held. Professor Edwards was crossed through and so was Mr Fulbright. Peter Bishop was next, which would take him halfway. Then would come the upper-class bastard who’d let him down so badly, followed by the one he’d struggled to track down. He remembered the sense of satisfaction he’d had when he’d finally traced him. In fact, tracking them all and planning how he would deal with them had given him more joy than carrying out the deeds. But that was okay; it just meant he was a decent human being – unlike the six on his list.
Only when he’d wiped out all of them would he be able to find the peace he craved. Yes, he’d be in prison, but that didn’t matter. He had nothing to live for, no one to care about in the outside world, so what difference would it make if he was locked up? He’d been in a place worse than prison for over a decade.
They all deserved what was coming to them, but they would never know why they’d been chosen. Maybe he’d tell the police when they came for him, but everyone on his list would die wondering what it was they’d done to deserve their fate. But then dying was kinder than what they had put him through. He’d had to live wondering why fate had chosen to destroy him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jon opened his locker door Monday morning, almost glad to be back at work. Andy’s moaning had reached fever pitch over the weekend and even visits to the pub hadn’t stopped the tide of complaints. He took down his porter’s coat and hung his jacket on the peg. As he closed the door he heard a burst of laughter coming from the other side of the row of lockers dividing the room into two. He was about to stroll round to join in the banter when he heard his name.
“You should hear what Jon has to say about you guys,” Iain said, “but don’t worry, I’ve told him I won’t put up with him slagging you off.”
Jon stopped mid-stride. What the fuck?
“Thanks for telling us, Iain,” one of Jon’s co-workers said.
Recovering his wits, Jon stormed round the lockers to find Iain holding court with half a dozen porters.
“What’s going on?” he said. “I haven’t slagged anyone off.”
Most of the men looked embarrassed and sloped off, but a couple stood their ground next to Iain.
“I told them what you said about your locker,” Iain said.
“What did I say? I mean, I didn’t say anything. About anybody.”
Sean, one of the oldest there shook his head. “Really? So how come each of us has to go in to see Mr Montague?”
“I don’t know! How would I know?” Jon said.
Iain smiled. “That’s right, brazen it out. Like you didn’t complain to Mr Montague that someone, one of us, had opened your locker and gone through your stuff.”
Jon felt as if the ground under his feet was no longer solid. “But I didn’t. Sean, you’ve got to believe me, I really didn’t.”
Sean shrugged. “I would have, but I’ve already been asked by Montague if I did it. As if I’d want to rummage through anyone else’s locker. You can deny it all you want, but we’ve all been called in to account for ourselves and it’s you who lodged the complaint. Now, I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m going to get some work done.”
He pushed past Jon and left the room along with the other porters, leaving Jon alone with Iain. Black rage built inside him until he could almost feel the other person inside taking control. He forced himself to calm down. He mustn’t lose control. Not
here.
“You did this,” Jon said. “You’ve turned them all against me.”
Iain said nothing, just grinned until Jon wanted to smack his head against the locker doors.
“What have I ever done to you?”
Jon watched as the smile left Iain’s face.
“Not to me, arsehole. You’ve never done anything to me. I’m paying you back for someone else. Someone whose life you destroyed.”
“What…who?”
“You don’t even remember her, do you?”
“Iain, I haven’t a fucking clue what you’re on about. Tell me,” Jon pleaded. “You obviously think I’ve done something, but I don’t know what. Just tell me.”
Iain looked him up and down. “You’re even more of a bastard than I’d realised. Think back over a decade. Try and remember what you did back then. I bet she’d remember you, if she was capable of remembering anything. You make me sick,” he said, shoving past and leaving the room.
Jon staggered and clutched the nearest locker. Over a decade? Did Iain mean the woman who’d died in the accident? But what connection could Iain have with her? He didn’t even know him back then. God, if only he could turn the clock back. Before everything changed, his life had been pretty good. Any girl he’d wanted had been his for the asking. He’d had friends and a social life. Not like now where the only person he could talk to was the new barman at the pub. Okay, so he’d needed the medication to keep his mind in order, but he’d been as good about taking it then as he was now.
***
“Good morning, everyone,” Paolo said as he faced his team. “I would like to introduce Detective Sergeant Andrea Styles, who has come to join the team. Andrea has been working in Leicester and has now moved to Bradchester.”
He waited until the chorus of welcome died down.
“You’ll be delighted to hear that Andrea specialises in research. I know we all miss George for his skills in that regard.” Loud groans greeted George’s name. “Yes, I know few of you will forgive him, but we have to agree he was the best when it came to ferreting out information.”
Call It Pretending (#3 - D.I. Paolo Storey Crime Series) Page 7