The taser clattered away. But Grant wasn’t finished. With Dani’s body still twisted from the momentum of the blow, Grant barrelled into her midriff and they both tumbled to the floor and Dani lost grip of the cutters.
Her head smacked off the concrete and her vision blurred. She tried to move but couldn’t. The slivers of moonlight coming through the tall windows of the warehouse danced in front of her.
‘He’s my son,’ Grant said, tears rolling down his cheeks. ‘My only son.’
Dazed, Dani’s vision blurred. Ben? Standing over her. That hideous ornament in his hand that he’d tried to kill her with. She’d been lying on the floor then, in the lounge of the home he’d shared with his wife and kids. He’d wanted to kill Dani. He’d bludgeoned her. But he’d never checked that she was dead before rushing off to kill Gemma. He should have made sure he finished her off.
Suddenly the image – hallucination? – flickered and Dani realised it wasn’t Ben standing over her, but Steven Grant. And he wasn’t about to make the same mistake as Ben had. His face was creased with venom. She’d killed his son. Had she killed Mary too? It didn’t matter what Ethan and his mother were. Steven Grant still loved them. He lifted the bolt cutters above his head…
Then his eyes widened and his body jerked and jolted. He lurched forwards, much like Jason had moments earlier when he’d been tasered. He kept coming. Right for Dani.
All she could do as Steven Grant descended upon her was to hold up a hand to her face. It did little to soften the blow as Grant’s heavy body slammed down onto her, winding her in the process, and sending her to the brink of unconsciousness.
She couldn't breathe. Grant’s listless mass was covering her face. She began to drift. She was going to suffocate.
Then she heard a muffled voice that gave her the focus she needed.
‘Dani. Are you ok?’
Jason.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Two months later
‘You’ll receive a formal letter confirming the decision shortly,’ McNair said.
Dani nodded in response, her eyes flicking between her boss and Chief Superintendent Baxter who were both sat over the other side of the desk in the meeting room. The internal investigation into Dean Harland’s death had been concluded in her favour. The investigation had found that Harland, along with Reeve, was a low-level drug dealer with a history of criminality, which was the likely explanation for why he had run from Dani that fateful day.
The witness evidence against Dani had been disregarded after several inconsistencies were identified, not in the least the fact the witnesses all turned out to be associates of Harland and Reeve and Grant, and most of them hadn’t even been in the area at the time. Ultimately Professional Standards had determined that Dani’s actions, under the circumstances, were reasonable and justified. Dani wondered if what had happened recently out at that warehouse had had any bearing on the result. After all, the investigation into the deaths of Mary Grant and Ethan Grant was still only just getting started. Perhaps the police thought the circumstances of their deaths would be a clear-cut opportunity to remove Dani from the force. Unlike her son, Mary had been pulled from the scene in Moseley alive, but brain dead from the blows to the head. Her life support had been turned off a few days afterwards and her death, like that of her son, had to be investigated.
‘Is he talking yet?’ Dani asked.
‘Who?’
‘Steven Grant.’
Baxter and McNair shared a look, as though weighing up whether they were prepared to tell Dani anything.
‘Not really,’ Baxter said, his decision to answer the question rather than brush it off taking Dani by surprise. ‘Of course there’s going to be a lengthy investigation into how many victims Mary Grant killed over the years, and we’ll likely need to look beyond the West Midlands, given she only moved here in her thirties—’
‘You think she was a killer even before she met Grant?’
‘At this stage we honestly don’t know. Though I would say her choice of husband is quite telling, wouldn’t you?’
Dani certainly would. She’d had the same thought back on that fateful night. Had Mary chosen Grant because she took some twisted pleasure in knowing his dark past? Similarly, was that the reason why Dani was apparently chosen for those notes and to be set-up for the murders?
‘Quite ironic really that the one man who could help us to analyse and explain the things that Mary and Ethan have done is keeping his mouth shut out of loyalty to his dead wife and son,’ Dani said.
‘We’ll keep trying,’ Baxter said. ‘Perhaps Grant will have second thoughts on his silent treatment when he realises just how long he’s going to be behind bars.’
‘You know, it’s almost poetic justice that Mary spent so long trying to convince her son that he was a natural born killer, only for him to blow the whole operation open.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Reeve and Natalya. They weren’t Mary’s M.O., and the killings weren’t to her standards, not by far. Ethan was raw and naive. I’d bet anything those notes I received were from him. To Ethan Grant this was all a sick game. He was impulsive and reckless, compared to Mary’s cold calculation.’
‘Ok, DI Stephens, I think I need to stop you there,’ Baxter said, sounding more stern now. ‘You know of course that the investigation into the Grants is at a very early stage and we’ll be taking formal statements from you in due course. I’d caution you to not go spouting your conjecture any further outside these walls.’
Dani’s cheeks reddened. She got the point. As in the case of Harland, Ethan and Mary had died at the hands of an active officer, and their deaths, and her conduct, had to be thoroughly investigated, no matter who the dead people were, or what they’d done.
The fact was, she didn’t feel in the least bit bad that both Ethan and Mary Grant were no longer breathing. As far as Dani was concerned they both got what they deserved, and she’d simply been fighting for her life in those moments at the warehouse. Would that be the police’s ultimate conclusion too?
‘Though…’ Baxter said, before taking a large inhalation. ‘I shouldn’t really say this, but I’ve got your back, Stephens. Everyone knows what happened and appreciates what you did. I’m sure the IOPC will come to the right conclusion.’
The comment flummoxed Dani and for a few seconds she just stared at Baxter.
‘Well, go on then,’ he said. ‘I have got other things to do today. McNair will show you out.’
‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.’
Dani got to her feet and headed for the door. With McNair at her side they walked in silence along the corridor of the top floor of HQ to the lifts.
‘Can we stop on the second floor?’ Dani asked when they stepped inside the lift.
‘I’m supposed to take you down to reception.’
‘And you will. But I want to wait for Barnes first. Please?’
‘Sorry, Dani.’
Dani sighed but didn’t bother to push.
On the ground floor McNair showed Dani through the security gates then made herself scarce. Dani sat down and was waiting for less than ten minutes before Jason appeared, coming out of one of the lifts beyond the gates. He wasn’t alone. A casually dressed man was walking with him. Dani had to double take when she realised who it was. Ed Francis.
Or, to give him his real name, DS Kendrick – an undercover officer from DCI Fairclough’s Organised Crime team. Jason had been brought into the loop on the day he’d gone to Francis’s – Kendrick’s – house, after Kendrick had called to inform Jason that he’d spotted Ethan Grant returning to the family home.
From what she’d been told by Jason – well, no one else was telling her anything, were they? – Fairclough’s team were investigating a drug ring. Call it coincidence that the top dogs in that ring were the players supplying Reeve and Harland, and Ethan Grant had been on their radar because of that, even before Natalya and Reeve were killed. Their apparent previous lack of interest in
the murder cases was out of their desire to protect their ongoing undercover operation.
Obviously they’d no idea exactly what the Grants were. Kendrick had been trying to get close to Steven Grant because they thought he was involved with the gang. He was under suspicion for money laundering, of all things. Apparently Ethan Grant wasn’t too careful with how he was using mummy and daddy’s money, and several of their bank accounts and investments had been flagged up for investigation. Which was in part how Jason had eventually traced the fact that Mary Grant was the owner of that warehouse, through a whole series of offshore shell entities. All of this had come to a head that night when Jason had arranged to meet with Kendrick to discuss the findings.
Kendrick shook Jason’s hand then scuttled back off towards the lifts and Jason came limping over to Dani. As well as surface burns to his skin and the gash above his eye, the muscles on his left leg had been damaged too. He’d been out of hospital little more than two weeks. The skin grafts were still healing, though they appeared to have been a success.
He’d taken a battering, that was for sure. As had Dani. Many people had commented that it was a miracle they’d both survived. Dani had never believed in miracles. Maybe it was about time she did.
Jason gave her a half smile when he reached her. His face certainly looked far more at ease than it had two hours earlier when he’d gone into his own disciplinary briefing.
‘I thought you were supposed to be having a disciplinary meeting,’ Dani said. ‘Not catching up with undercovers?’
Jason smiled. ‘I was. But I saw Fairclough and Kendrick by chance after. They didn’t say this exactly, but my sense is that the whole force is rooting for us on this one.’
Dani said nothing to that. She was thoroughly confused by the change of heart towards her. But then that was police politics. If it worked out in her favour this time, she wouldn’t argue.
Across the way, Dani saw Easton. He waved to her to get her attention and gave her a half smile. Dani looked at Jason who just shrugged. Easton came over.
‘Dani…’
‘Aaron. Long time no see.’
‘Yeah,’ he rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Dani, I’m sorry. About everything. I was just—’
‘You were just doing what McNair told you to. I get it.’
‘No hard feelings?’
‘Why would there be?’
Easton gave her another sheepish look. He glanced at Jason who just nodded.
‘See you around?’ Easton said to Dani.
‘You never know.’
He turned and headed back towards the security gates.
‘Come on,’ Jason said. ‘Let’s get you home.’
Chapter Sixty-Four
This is the first entry in my new diary that Jason has bought me. I came to depend on the last one so much during my recovery. I realise now that the release of writing about my life helps me to escape the many torments I’ve had to endure. Writing in this new diary will help me as my recovery continues.
As I’m writing this, I stare out of the window across the canals and the numerous other blocks of new-build apartments. It’s the last time I’ll do so. At one time I felt proud and happy living in this apartment, but there are too many scars, too many bad memories now to ever go back. I need to go forwards.
The intercom rings and I peel myself away. I walk into the hall and look at the screen. Jason.
I buzz him in, then stare at the screen as I always do now. After a few seconds it goes blank. No one has followed him in.
I stand by the door, waiting for him, an uncomfortable feeling enveloping me. I hear the lift clunking away. I hear the doors opening. When I hear the footsteps in the corridor I grab the wrench from the sideboard. I hold it tightly in both hands and wait for the soft rap on the door.
Will I ever shake off this paranoia?
‘Jason?’ I say.
‘Yeah. It’s me.’
I look into the peephole. He’s standing back, in clear view. He knows all about my new habits. He looks left and right then smiles at me. I take one hand from the wrench and unlock, then open, the door.
‘It’s ok,’ he says. ‘Ready for the last supper?’
He holds up the bag containing our dinner. I glance past him, along the corridor, one last check to make sure he’s definitely alone. I nod and step back to let him in. When he’s inside with the door shut I finally put the wrench down on the floor. That’s where it’ll stay. I’m not taking that with me.
After we’ve finished our food we head back to the hallway. Jason goes to pick up the largest of the three packed suitcases. He groans as he picks it up.
‘You sure you can manage that?’ I ask, genuinely concerned for him.
‘Yeah,’ he says, his voice sounding strained. ‘One side of me is good, at least.’
I grab the other two cases and Jason opens the door. I look around the empty space of my apartment one more time. Then I walk out.
We make our way along the corridor towards the lift.
‘Steven Grant was released from hospital this morning,’ Jason says.
‘How do you know that?’ I ask.
‘Baxter told me. They’re going to charge him with murder. The CPS think he was close enough to the crimes to be considered a direct accomplice.’
I say nothing to that. Grant has never admitted to knowing about Mary and Ethan’s crimes. I don’t know what the truth is, but I’ll watch keenly to see what plays out at trial.
I feel little pride in having brought an end to Mary Grant’s reign of terror. Just sadness and frustration that we may never know the full truth about who she killed. Grace Agnew? Jessica Bradford? The evidence found in the warehouse suggests they were likely her last victims, together with Paul Reeve and Natalya, whose lives were taken by Ethan’s less experienced hands. But how many came before them?
More importantly, why?
Perhaps she was a natural-born killer. It was in her DNA. Steven Grant himself might have explained that to be the case. The same for his own son. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, after all, although there is no doubt in my mind that Ethan was nothing like the monster that his mother was. To Ethan Grant, killing was a game. He taunted me with those notes, and in trying to make me take the fall for his mistakes. I don't think he ever understood the seriousness of what he was involved in, perhaps because he’d been brainwashed at such a young age, and violence and killing was normalised for him. Mary Grant on the other hand… was she the epitome of true evil? To her, killing was a way of life. A source of power and satisfaction, despite the fact that no one knew of her existence as a killer until her son began to draw attention.
What about Annie Grant? She’s just a teenage girl, and a good kid from what I hear. She’s currently under the care of Grant’s sister and her husband who live not far from Birmingham. I wonder, and in many ways, fear what will become of her. Even if she is ‘normal’, how can her life ever recover from what has happened?
I know one thing for sure, I’ll be keeping a close eye on her fate.
And what does all this mean for me? My brother, too, is a killer, and now I’ve taken two lives with my own hands. Was that pure survival? Was it because of my TBI and my damaged frontal lobes and my newfound anger – which I still feel rumbling away inside, even if I feel more adept at controlling the outbursts now?
Have I always been capable of such violence?
Perhaps Ben was right after all. There really is a killer inside everyone.
One thing that’s clear to me is that I don’t regret what I did, even if it does disturb me to know what I’m capable of. Ethan and Mary Grant are buried six feet under, and as far as I’m concerned, it’s good riddance.
Jason and I make our way down in the lift and haul the luggage across the street to Jason’s car.
‘Give me the keys,’ I say. ‘You shouldn’t really be driving.’
‘I’m fine,’ Jason says.
‘I don’t give a damn. I’m driving. I kn
ow you can take care of me, but I can take care of you too.’
Jason says nothing. For so long he’s watched out for me. Even when I was pushing him away. Even when I hated him for treating me like an invalid during my recovery. Or like a child. I now see that he did it only out of love. I need to show him I can care for him too. That my love for him is as unwavering as his is for me.
He grabs the keys and slings them over to me. I catch them and we dump the suitcases in the boot and get into the car. I fire up the engine. I look back up at the apartment block.
‘I should have done this months ago,’ I say.
That apartment represents the darkest part of my life, I realise, and the feelings of anger, depression, alienation and reclusiveness would never go away if I stayed.
‘Yeah, but you’ve always been so damn stubborn, DI Stephens.’
‘And you’ve always been such a charmer.’
‘You’re getting out now,’ Jason says. ‘A fresh start. With me. That’s the main thing.’
I say nothing to that. I take one last look up to the sixth floor of the apartment block, then say goodbye to that place, and that part of my life, once and for all.
A Letter From Rob
Thank you for reading The Essence of Evil. It’s always a great pleasure and relief to finally send a book out into the world after so many months of work and revisions, and this book in particular has been in the works for a very long time!
The Essence of Evil is the first book in the DI Dani Stephens crime series, and I hope you’ve enjoyed the first glimpse into her dark and troubled world, and feel sufficiently invested in her, like I do, to read more!!
I hope you enjoyed The Essence of Evil, and I’m always grateful for reviews if you could spare a few minutes to write and post one online.
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