The Principle of Evil: A Fast-Paced Serial Killer Thriller (DCI Claire Winters, Book 2)

by T. M. E. Walsh

  He rested his arm on the mantle above the fireplace. He stared at a wedding picture of Gregg and Sara. His eyes looked sad as he stared at her smiling face. She did look beautiful. The look didn’t go unnoticed by Claire.

  ‘Was there any kind of trouble in your marriage, Mr Thornton?’ Her eyes watched Mason, despite aiming the question at Gregg. She saw Mason’s shoulders tense and his eyes glance back towards them, but he remained silent.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Gregg asked, defiant. ‘I had nothing to do with this.’ Claire’s face remained unreadable. ‘My marriage isn’t perfect, Chief Inspector, but I love my wife very much.’ He looked at Stefan. ‘I’d never hurt her.’ His eyes shot back to Claire.

  She raised her eyebrows. He felt flustered then embarrassed. He looked at the floor and sighed. ‘All right, all right.’ Deep breath. ‘Sara and I are going through a rough patch.’

  Mason swung around to stare at him. ‘What?’

  Gregg gave a slight nod, looking at his friend. ‘We’ve been seeing a psychotherapist.’

  ‘Where?’ Mason looked exasperated. Claire was sat quietly, saying nothing.

  ‘Letchworth,’ Gregg said, sorrow in his voice. ‘F. B. C. on Broadway.’

  Mason shook his head. ‘I just don’t get it.’

  Claire sat forward, gaining Gregg’s attention. ‘What is F. B. C.?’

  ‘Focus Being, Counselling & Psychotherapy Centre.’

  ‘How long have you been seeing a psychotherapist?’

  ‘Eighteen months.’

  ‘And who do you see?’ Claire asked.

  ‘I’m sorry, but how is this relevant?’ Mason spoke now, cutting in and sitting next to Gregg.

  ‘I’m trying to gain an insight into Sara and Gregg’s relationship.’

  ‘I don’t think that is any of your business.’

  ‘And I don’t believe I was asking you.’

  She looked back to Gregg, who didn’t appear to be listening to either of them, absorbed in his own world, which until last night was fairly uncomplicated. ‘Could you answer the question, Mr Thornton? I need to know the facts if we’re to help Sara.’

  He looked back at her. ‘We saw Stephanie Curran. I have her number around here somewhere.’ He stood and went to the table in the hallway and began rifling through a messy drawer.

  Claire rose to her feet, a signal to Stefan they were done for now. She gave Mason a dark look and left the room.

  ‘It’s OK, Mr Thornton,’ she said, as she neared the front door. ‘We can easily find the office number should I need to speak to Stephanie Curran.’

  Gregg continued to search, his face tense, his brow furrowed. ‘No, no,’ he said glancing up at her, ‘it is in here somewhere.’ He threw a stack of paper onto the floor. ‘I know it’s here.’

  Claire and Stefan exchanged glances. Stefan put his hand on Gregg’s shoulder. ‘This isn’t necessary right now, don’t worry about it.’

  ‘It is necessary. If I had listened to Sara, I would have it right now.’ He looked Stefan hard in the face. All of a sudden his eyes welled up with tears again. ‘She’s always telling me to sort a filing system for important numbers, and I always put it off.’ He looked away, shoulders hunched, and tears began to fall.

  ‘Mr Thornton, please,’ Claire said, trailing off when she saw him violently shake his head.

  ‘No, it is here somewhere!’

  Mason appeared in the doorway as Gregg thrust something into Claire’s face.

  ‘Here.’ He handed her a white business card. ‘I knew it was here.’ He wiped tears off his cheek with the back of his hand. Claire glanced at the card and gave a thin smile and handed him her own.

  ‘We’ll be in touch, Mr Thornton, and get a Family Liaison Officer to you, but should you think of anything else in the meantime, please contact me. It doesn’t matter what time it is.’ She broke off as his sad eyes met hers. ‘We will find her.’

  ‘Alive, I hope,’ Mason said. The look on Stefan’s face told Claire to leave the last word with Mason. She nodded to Gregg before letting herself and Stefan out into the cold street.

  *

  ‘He refers to her in the present tense, not past. I don’t think he’s lying.’

  Claire sat in Stefan’s car and rubbed her hands together and exhaled. ‘His friend, however, is another case entirely.’

  Stefan began backing his car out the drive and onto the road. He paused before driving off. ‘We’re not far from the psychotherapy centre.’ Claire turned to stare at him. ‘Want to check it out? Maybe we can speak to Curran.’

  CHAPTER 29

  Focus Being (Counselling & Psychotherapy) Centre, or F. B. C. for short, sat nestled away up a short driveway on a turning off Broadway in Letchworth Garden City. The huge picturesque building was built in the 1980s and was now a well-established centre for people from all walks of life, seeking help for a wide variety of life’s different problems.

  As Stefan pulled his car up the drive and followed the road around towards the visitor car park, he caught the look on Claire’s face as they parked up.

  ‘Thoughts?’ he said.

  Claire wrinkled her nose, peering out of the window up at the top floor of the building.

  ‘It looks as pretentious as it sounds, that’s what I think.’

  Stefan smiled as they got out of the car and headed towards the main entrance.

  *

  Alice Hathaway stared hard at Claire and Stefan, then her eyes dropped to their warrant cards. She frowned, removed her glasses from her pinched nose, rested them carefully on her desk, and clasped her bony hands together.

  ‘Mrs Curran is a very busy woman. She doesn’t see anyone without an appointment.’

  Claire’s face remained stony. ‘We’re not here as clients, Mrs Hathaway.’

  ‘That doesn’t make a difference.’ Alice had a raspy edge to her voice, indicating she was a heavy smoker. Her nails were yellow and brittle, and her skin was heavily lined and sallow. Her grey eyes were small and beady, reminding Claire of a bird.

  Alice was painfully thin, shoulder blades jutting out through her tired-looking blouse. Claire guessed she was in her fifties, and that she was a very hard and difficult woman to please. She was the office manager and as soon as Claire had spoken to the receptionist, they had been quickly ushered into Alice’s office.

  The silence was broken when Stefan leaned forward, making Alice recoil slightly. ‘It won’t take long. Perhaps if Mrs Curran was informed that this is just a routine visit, she wouldn’t mind sparing ten minutes.’

  Alice sighed and shook her head. ‘I don’t make a habit of breaking the rules, Inspector,’ she said, picking up the phone on her desk. ‘If she is with a client, I can’t expect her to interrupt.’ She avoided Claire’s eyes, despite feeling the full weight of her stare. She gripped the receiver tight, her knuckles white.

  After several seconds ticked by, Alice put the phone down with force. ‘She must be with someone, she’s not answering.’ She stood. ‘I suggest you go to reception and make an appointment or leave a card with me.’ She eyed Claire frostily. ‘I will see that she gets it.’

  ‘I would feel more comfortable if we spoke to her sooner rather than later.’

  When Alice made no attempt to answer, Claire spoke again, a grin spreading across her face. ‘Perhaps you could go and knock on her door?’

  Alice’s eyes grew darker, in keeping with her mood. She looked reluctant at first but relented under Claire’s gaze.

  ‘Please wait in reception. I will be with you shortly.’

  *

  They sat in silence, in dark blue tub-chairs, watching people coming and going from the building. The furniture was modern with clean lines and minimal fuss, but the period details of the old building had been made into feature points throughout; a neat balance between old and new, which was tastefully done.

  Claire noticed that the reception desk was really busy. The phones were ringing constantly, as well as the bustle at the front
desk. The receptionist they had spoken to earlier looked harassed but seemed to have everything under control.

  Claire leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. ‘How much do you think people pay for this crap?’

  Stefan pulled a face, shaking his head and bending forward towards the coffee table in front of them. He picked up a leaflet and passed it to her. ‘Why, you interested? Didn’t you decline counselling after–’

  He broke off in an instant when her face dropped, her eyes penetrating his.

  ‘After last year? That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it?’

  Stefan gave a sympathetic smile.

  She ignored him as she scanned the literature. ‘“Let F. B. C. nurse your soul,”’ she began to read aloud. ‘“Let us help you take back the control in your life.”’ She paused and tossed the leaflet back on the table. ‘Load of bollocks.’

  Stefan laughed, but regained his composure when a man wearing stylish glasses appeared with a tray.

  ‘Hello. I’m Lucas, from admin and bookings,’ he said, reddening. ‘Mrs Hathaway thought you might like some drinks while you wait.’ He placed the tray on the table. Stefan eyed the steaming cup of tea and biscuits with some relish.

  ‘How long will Mrs Hathaway be?’ Claire asked, glancing at her watch.

  ‘Not long, I shouldn’t think, but she did ask that I make sure you’re comfortable,’ he said. ‘Is there anything else you need? Perhaps you want to go through the basics of what we have to offer here at Focus Being?’

  Stefan went to speak but Claire gave him a sharp kick in the ankle under the coffee table.

  ‘Yes, please do.’

  Stefan shot her a surprised look.

  It was clear that Alice Hathaway hadn’t informed her staff there were two police officers sitting in the building. Their plain clothes, although not the normal attire compared to the other clients filtering in and out of the building, obviously didn’t give them away. Usually Claire found most people could tell she was someone of authority by the way she carried herself, and by the way she dressed.

  Lucas beamed. ‘Excellent. I’ll go let Joseph know. He’s in charge of making the bookings. I’m shadowing him today.’

  ‘What’re you doing?’ Stefan said through gritted teeth as Lucas disappeared behind the reception desk.

  ‘I just want to get an idea of what goes on here. They may be more honest if they don’t know we’re police.

  *

  Lucas sat opposite them both, taking notes, while next to him sat a tall man with dark wavy hair, who looked eager, his folder resting on his knees.

  ‘I’m Joseph Green,’ he said, offering Claire and then Stefan his hand. ‘It’s my job to make sure would-be clients understand what we offer at the centre.’

  He smiled at Claire. ‘Don’t be scared to ask questions, that’s what we’re here for.’

  Claire made herself return his smile. Stefan bit his lower lip.

  ‘OK,’ he said, handing Claire the same leaflet she’d looked at earlier. ‘Here at Focus Being we offer counselling and psychotherapy for people from all social backgrounds, with help they feel they need in their life. That could be a loss of direction or purpose in life.’

  Claire felt like he’d rehearsed this speech so many times, it sat like a file in his head that he could find and recite at any time with ease. He sounded like he was pitching some business proposition to a board of clients.

  ‘Our psychotherapists have recognised qualifications in a wide variety of specialised subjects, including mental health counselling, and marriage and family therapy. We provide help on an individual basis or for couples, and for children.

  ‘We’re regulated, and we pride ourselves on using new and old tried-and-tested methods to suit each individual need. We provide a safe and secure environment for clients to express themselves freely.’ He sucked in a deep breath, and smiled at Claire.

  ‘Problems discussed are diverse,’ he continued, and started to tap his fingertips with his pen, listing examples off one by one. ‘Anxiety, psychotic breakdown, or problems with confidence, for example, are all quite common.’

  ‘We’re more interested in marriage counselling,’ Claire said, trying to cut through the sales pitch.

  Joseph paused. He looked at them both in turn, then smiled. He gestured with his hand, pointing between them both. ‘You’re married?’

  ‘To each other, yes.’

  Stefan choked on his biscuit and swigged back some of his tea. It practically scorched the back of his throat. He spluttered and looked at Claire, his eyes watering.

  ‘Claire, perhaps–’

  ‘Not now, honey,’ she said, cutting him off. She turned to Joseph again. ‘What type of problem qualifies as needing marriage counselling?’

  Joseph looked a little bemused. ‘Anything really. There are no rules, and we certainly don’t wish to label or alienate potential clients.’ He flexed his fingers together and handed her a print-out from his folder.

  ‘Here are some examples of what we typically deal with in relationship problems.’ He used his pen to point to different sections on the paper. ‘Sometimes we have incidents of financial worry, or each person’s “role” within the relationship.’ He hovered over another point with his pen. ‘Sometimes there are… intimacy issues.’

  His face flushed a little as he spoke.

  From the corner of her eye Claire saw Stefan bury his face in his hands.

  ‘I can make an appointment for you both with our senior psychotherapist for an initial assessment, if you’d like?’

  He opened the first leaflet that sat resting on Claire’s knees. ‘The price breakdown is listed here and we’re open until quite late, so we’re flexible and you can book a time that suits you.’

  Claire watched his eager face. She guessed he was in his mid-thirties, despite having quite a baby face, but he had sharp eyes. He was slender, but she could tell by the fitted cut of his shirt that his shoulders were well defined. He was quite well-spoken and she guessed this was one of the main reasons he was a ‘front of house’ employee.

  He seemed a little unnerved by her gaze, and she realised she was staring at him. He flushed red again. ‘Do you have any questions?’

  Claire smiled. ‘Are there many couples that have this type of counselling?’

  He looked a little taken aback. ‘For marriage counselling? It’s fairly popular, I guess, sad as I am to say it.’

  ‘I suppose you get to know the regular faces, being in reception.’

  He shook his head. ‘No, not as such.’

  He looked to Lucas, who gave him a look of encouragement.

  ‘I’ve only just moved up to this role to cover maternity leave.’ Claire nodded, smiled a little. Then she saw Alice Hathaway emerge from a corridor.

  She looked angry. Claire acted fast. ‘Do you know Gregg and Sara Thornton?’

  Joseph looked confused. ‘Who?’

  Alice stormed over towards them. Stefan saw her and swore inwardly, but it didn’t faze Claire.

  She looked between the two men. ‘Gregg and Sara Thornton. They’re clients here.’

  Lucas shook his head. ‘We might know their faces if they’re regulars, but not by name.’

  ‘I’m only just starting to get to know the clients, putting names to faces,’ Joseph said.

  Alice was seconds from them.

  Claire rose and handed Joseph her card. He looked confused. ‘What’s this for?’

  ‘You’re about to find out.’

  Alice was beside them.

  ‘Chief Inspector, you are here to speak to Mrs Curran. The rest of the staff are under my authority.’

  Joseph looked surprised. ‘You’re cops?’

  ‘Police,’ Stefan corrected. He hated being referred to as a cop; it was too American for his liking.

  ‘Cool,’ he said, looking at the card Claire had given him. ‘I wouldn’t have put you two together anyway.’ He didn’t seem too concerned that she’d misled him. He w
as more intrigued than anything else. He looked at Claire again. ‘What’s Steph done?’

  ‘Mrs Curran,’ Alice broke in, ‘has not done anything.’ She eyed Claire warily. ‘She’s merely helping the police with their enquiries, on a voluntary basis.’

  Stefan spoke this time, making eye contact with Alice. ‘She’ll see us then?’

  Alice stiffened as she gave a curt nod.

  Claire turned back to Joseph. ‘If you remember anything–’

  ‘No matter how irrelevant?’ he said, excitement in his voice.

  Claire nodded.

  Alice bristled then, and stepped between them both. ‘It will not be for very long, Mrs Curran has another client in ten minutes.’

  ‘That’s long enough,’ Claire said. ‘Lead the way.’

  CHAPTER 30

  Stephanie Curran didn’t appear fazed at all.

  Claire and Stefan sat opposite her at her desk and explained Sara’s disappearance and their visit to Gregg. Stephanie listened at first and patiently waited until they finished before she said in a well-spoken voice, ‘Our sessions are private. I cannot discuss anything without their written consent… Consent from the both of them.’

  ‘I need to know what they’re like as a couple,’ Claire said.

  ‘Can’t you ask Gregg?’

  ‘You’ve been in a position to observe them from the outside. Sara is missing and we need to do all we can to rule out certain possibilities.’

  Stephanie smiled, as if she’d just solved a great mystery. ‘You mean you want to know if you can rule out any involvement by her husband.’

  Claire remained silent.

  ‘You can speak plainly here, Chief Inspector.’ When no further words were forthcoming, she sighed and went to her filing cabinet. She unlocked it with a key from her trouser pocket, and searched for the Thorntons’ file.

  As Stephanie flicked through the manila files, Claire watched the sharp edges of her shoulder blades protruding through her thin cardigan. Stephanie was a tall, willowy stick of a figure, clad in designer clothes. She was in her mid-forties, although at a glance, you would be forgiven for thinking she was much younger.