Psychological Thriller Series: Adam Stanley Boxed Set: Behind Shadows, Positively Murder and Mind Bender

by Netta Newbound

  Why had Gavin confessed? Although I knew he'd worked it out, I'd expected him to tell the police, or at least profess his innocence and hope like hell he got off. Now he was as good as fucked.

  Works out better for you, wouldn't you say, girl?

  I groaned. I'd wanted to escape everyone, forgetting one person was ever present.

  Charming!

  I shook my head and tugged at Claude's lead. "C'mon, boy," I said, breaking into a sprint.

  I pushed hard for the first few minutes, but my energy soon flagged and I eased off to a slow jog. I used to run as a child, I was even on the cross country team at school, but hadn't needed to run in a long time.

  Half an hour later I arrived home, exhilarated—knackered but exhilarated.

  Claude looked like he was on the verge of collapse. I doubted he got much exercise at home in France. Their new apartment was on the seventh floor. The stairs were the only physical workout the poor mutt got. They led straight out onto the postage stamp lawn to do his business—which I thought was cruel. Yet they indulged the pampered pooch in other ways, treating it like a human being.

  "Oh my God, what have you done to him?" Tina laughed as we fell in the front door. "What's your nana done to you, Claudie? Hey? Hey?" She dropped to her knees slobbering all over the poor dog, who wanted nothing more than a bowl of water and a lie-down.

  "I think he'll sleep tonight No howling like last night." I hoped the smile would soften the edge to my voice.

  "Aw, sorry. I didn't realise you heard him from the back of the house. He's not used to sleeping on his own."

  "Why, who does he sleep with?" I asked, horrified.

  "Me and Stel. He gets in our bed at home." She screwed her face up in a wince.

  "That's your business, but I'm sorry, I'm being generous allowing him in the house at all. There's no chance I'll let him in the bedrooms." I shuddered.

  I practically bounced through to the kitchen, more energetic than I'd felt in ages. Yvonne stood at the stove stirring something in a huge pan. Stella sat at the table wiping her eyes.

  "You look a bit better, Mum," Vonny said.

  "Yeah, I feel it, to be honest. Did anything else happen while we were out?"

  "No. Oh, except Keith went home. He has meetings all week he can't get out of."

  "You should have gone too. It's pointless us all sitting around here like Piffy on a rock bun," I said, glancing at Stella.

  “Like what?” Yvonne laughed. Stella sobbed louder.

  I shook my head and waved my hand in her direction as though wafting a fly. “Never mind.”

  It occurred to me that, although I adored my children, Stella irritated me to distraction. She'd always been harder to deal with than Yvonne, but we'd indulged that over the years. As the youngest, she got away with a lot. At the moment, not having a lot of energy to waste on people, I found Stella drained me more than anyone else.

  She squinted her eyes. "What?" she said, defensively.

  Realising my thoughts must be written all over my face, I shook my head. "Nothing." I turned away. "What you making, Vonny?"

  "I've made a pan of soup. I know you don't like vegetables, before you start, Stel, but I'll blend yours. None of us have eaten all day."

  I didn't much fancy eating soup myself, but she was right. We needed something nutritious inside us.

  It felt nice to behave like an ordinary family. I sliced a white cobb loaf that Keith had bought before he left. Stella made a pot of tea and Tina fed Claude before laying the table.

  The soup tasted delicious and we all ate with gusto, even Stella, who didn’t like anything. It's surprising what even the fussiest person will eat when they're starving enough.

  It didn't take too long before the conversation came back around to Gavin.

  "I watched the news while you were out," Yvonne said.

  I cocked my head backwards.

  "They said a man from Surrey has pleaded guilty to three counts of murder, but they haven't named him yet. Keith said Terry's trying to push for name suppression, but he's unsure how long they'll agree to that."

  "Hopefully long enough for us to get our own heads around it." I sighed.

  "You could always come and stay with us for a while, Mum, if it did get out," Yvonne said.

  I nodded. "We'll see."

  A glance passed between Stella and Tina, but no offer of accommodation came forward. Stella was still obviously sulking.

  "Thanks for the soup, Vonny. I'm going to have a lie down. Can I leave you with the dishes?" I asked, exhausted.

  "I'll do them," Tina jumped up.

  She's a good girl, they all were. I'd be sure to tell them all tomorrow.

  A strange vibrating sound puzzled me when I entered the bedroom. I soon discovered it came from Gavin's phone. I'd switched the volume off on Friday after replying to the message. I didn't want the girls investigating a strange ringing in my room, unsure what they might discover.

  There had been several alerts from the website. A couple of nudges and three winks, whatever that meant.

  So long as they stick to nudges and winks they'll be safe.

  I rolled my eyes. "We're not going to do anything else, Mum," I whispered.

  We'll see.

  ***

  Adam shook his head as he hung up the phone.

  "Frances?" he called.

  Frances appeared in his office doorway. "Yes, boss?"

  "I just had the strangest phone call."

  "Go on."

  "Gavin May has confessed to three counts of murder."

  "See, I told you. Did he confess in court?"

  "No. That's the strange part. He pleaded not guilty, and then afterwards, called his solicitor wanting to change his plea." Adam shook his head again. "Something about this case doesn't add up."

  "Don't tell me you still believe he's innocent?"

  Adam shrugged. Confession or not, he didn't believe Gavin May. He needed to go through the evidence again.

  Maybe he should have got forensics to examine the motel unit, but at the time they had all they needed. Plus, the killer hadn't got out of the vehicle—the witnesses confirmed that, so there would have been no real evidence inside the room.

  The pipe wrench had blood on it from the first two victims. Gavin admitted seeing all three men before they were murdered and DNA confirmed he’d had sex with two of them.

  One piece of evidence didn't fit. A single grey hair found inside the cap didn't belong to Gavin and the DNA didn't match anything on the database. However, that failed to prove anything. Somebody may have worn the cap before Gavin.

  Now, with this confession, Adam knew he should let it go, but he couldn't. Something stank to high heaven with this case and he had the stench lodged firmly up his nose.

  ***

  Adam arranged for him and Frances to see Gavin, who insisted his solicitor be present. Adam was unable to shake the feeling they were missing something.

  Gavin's eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head, clearly puzzled by Adam. At the last interview, Adam had insisted he was guilty and Gavin vehemently denied it. Now, the situation was reversed.

  "Why did you change your mind?" Adam asked.

  "Because, I couldn't lie any longer."

  "Bullshit! Then why didn't you admit it to your solicitor and make a deal before going to court—not after."

  Gavin shrugged. "I thought I might get out on bail if I pleaded not guilty. Get to spend a bit of time with my wife and daughters."

  "Why are you lying?"

  "I'm not lying. I did it," Gavin's voice sounded calm, bored even. He pinched the spot in between his eyes, as though he had the beginnings of a headache.

  "Tell me about the murders. The details please," Adam said.

  "I had sex with Carl. Followed him home and we had a fight."

  "How did you know him?" Adam said.

  "I didn't. We met over the Internet." Gavin sighed.

  "We searched your computer and found no record of this
supposed website."

  "I never used the home computer. I didn't want Mel finding out so I used my mobile."

  Adam reached into his pocket and pulled out a notepad. "Write your username and password down for me, please."

  Gavin hesitated before scribbling the details down.

  "Thanks." Adam glanced at the looped handwriting before placing the pad back into his pocket. "Let's get back to Carl. What did you fight over?"

  "I told him I was HIV positive. He went mad and we fought."

  "How did he die?"

  "He locked me in the van. I kicked the doors open and hit him with a wrench."

  "This is utter crap, Gavin. You've repeated, word for word, what we told you last week."

  Gavin shrugged again. "Turns out you were right all along then, doesn't it?"

  "Who are you trying to protect?"

  Gavin's face and neck flushed. "No one," he said, leaning forward suddenly, his eyes piercing Adam's.

  Startled, Frances jumped back in her seat.

  "Something doesn't add up, and I will get to the bottom of it," Adam said, shaking his head.

  "You do that." Gavin’s trembling top lip belied the conviction in his voice. He rubbed his throat.

  Adam knew damn well Gavin wasn't guilty, but with all the evidence against him how could he prove it?

  "Why did you kill Anthony Kingsley?"

  This murder had been a mystery to them. There was no obvious reason Gavin would want Kingsley dead, and he was worth a lot of money to him alive—at least until the business deal had been finalised.

  Gavin glanced at his solicitor and back to Adam for a few seconds, before focusing on his hands. "I didn't like him. He … erm, he turned me down."

  "You're saying you made sexual advances towards Mr Kingsley and he rejected you?"

  Gavin nodded.

  "Have you always been such a stud throughout your life, Mr May?" Frances piped up.

  "What?" Gavin's eyes narrowed and his top lip curled.

  "Well, it’s par for the course to get turned down if you're actively seeking sexual partners. If we all went around killing everyone who spurned us, there wouldn’t be anyone left in the world."

  Another one-shouldered shrug.

  Adam got to his feet. "That's all for now. But I can assure you, this is far from over. We'll be in touch."

  Chapter 25

  My bedroom door opened and closed again a few seconds later. The last few mornings I'd set the alarm clock, getting up before everybody so they wouldn't discover I slept underneath the bed.

  "Shit!" I muttered as I crawled out. "I need to get a bloody lock put on the door."

  I made the bed before venturing out to face the day and the girls.

  Yvonne sat in the lounge—her phone pressed to her ear and she whispered into it.

  I nodded to her and she waved.

  Stella knelt on the kitchen floor by the back door, feeding Claude toast.

  "What you doing?"

  "Claudie isn't very well today. He wouldn't eat his niblets."

  The dog opened his mouth pathetically, taking the toast offered.

  "He looks fine to me." I sighed.

  "He's had his pattern disrupted, haven't you, boy?"

  "I didn't ask you to disrupt him. In fact, I remember quite the opposite being true. You can take him home for all I care."

  "Why are you being so nasty?"

  "I'm not nasty? I'm telling you I'm fine. If you want to go home, go!"

  A slight twinge of guilt gripped me, I shrugged. "I appreciate you coming, of course I do, but I'm not good company at the moment. I'm not up to entertaining guests or having wonderful and meaningful mother and daughter chats because my life is in turmoil. I'm lashing out at you because my life is in turmoil. I want to be alone and to shut out the world because my life is in turmoil."

  I snatched the tea-towel from the side and began wiping last night’s dishes from the draining board.

  Stella jumped up from the floor. "I'll do that. Why don't you go for a bath?"

  She took the towel from me and I let the damp fabric slip from my grasp. She meant well, they all did. However, the irritability I felt continued to bubble away under the surface like a pressure cooker.

  "I'll have a shower. Can you make me a coffee, please?" I smiled, trying to appease her.

  "Course I will, how about some breakfast?"

  "Coffee's fine for now, thanks."

  I locked the bathroom door behind me. This seemed to be the only place I could be alone.

  I glanced in the mirror.

  Not quite. Mum's eyes flashed back at me.

  You know what I mean.

  We need to decide what we're going to do later.

  Later?

  Our date.

  Oh no. I can't even think about that now.

  You must. The man has already slept with Gavin, and he's got a wife and children.

  Exactly, we're too late to help them.

  Maybe, but what about all the others he will go on to infect. We're not talking about one or two partners—these disgusting creatures are promiscuous and will dip it into anyone and everyone they can.

  "Enough!" I shouted. "You do it, I can't."

  As you wish.

  There was a tap on the door. "Mum, are you okay?" Yvonne asked.

  "Fine," I snapped.

  She and Stella began whispering to each other behind the door.

  "Can't I have a shit in peace?" Mum yelled.

  One of the girls gasped and I heard them retreat into the lounge, closing the door behind them.

  "Mum!" I said.

  Well, they need to learn.

  "I know, but …"

  If I'm to do this—I need you to back off.

  Showered and changed, I found the girls huddled together in the lounge.

  Stella jumped up. "I'll do you another coffee, this one's cold," she said, picking up a cup from the table.

  "Thanks." I sat on the armchair.

  "We've been thinking, Mum," Yvonne said.

  "Oh, yeah," I raised my eyebrows.

  "We think you should see a doctor."

  "I don't need a doctor." My voice came out higher pitched than usual.

  "You've had an awful shock. What with the HIV and having to deal with dad's secret. But now you have this on top and we can tell you're not coping," she said.

  "I'm coping."

  "Mum, you're sleeping underneath your bed and you're talking to yourself. We're worried about you. Maybe the doctor can give you something to calm your nerves."

  I took a deep breath. "I know you mean well, all of you." I glanced at Tina, who fidgeted in her seat, not able to look me in the eye. "But I'm okay. Yes, I'm behaving strangely, I'm tetchy and can't help taking everything out on you guys, but it's my way of coping right now. Which is why I think you should all go home."

  Stella returned and placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of me.

  "Thanks, love." I smiled.

  "We're not leaving you, Mum. Not yet anyway," Yvonne said.

  "You can't stay forever. You have your jobs, your own lives."

  "I plan on leaving my job anyway, just as soon as I get pregnant. It's not as though we need the money. Keith earns plenty."

  "And you need to be there for him. It's not fair Keith in Birmingham alone and you here."

  "We're all right for a few weeks, Mum," Stella said. "We've got heaps of holidays we need to take."

  "Okay, if that's the case, you might as well go home to Keith, Yvonne. You don't all need to be here at the same time, and if I still need the company once Stella and Tina go home, you can come back."

  "I don't—"

  "I know you want to help, but I'm fine. I don't want to put any of you out on my account. Nobody can do a thing until the trial."

  "There'll be no trial now," Yvonne said. "Dad pleaded guilty so he won't need a trial—just a hearing and then sentencing. Keith just told me."

  "When will that be?"

&
nbsp; "Not long, maybe a week or two according to Keith," Yvonne said.

  My head spun.

  "I might go away for a while afterwards. The truth will be out by then, and I imagine the press will camp out on the doorstep," I said.

  "Keith said we can visit Dad if we want. He's on remand so we don't need a visiting order," Stella said.

  "I don't want to. I get too upset."

  Stella grabbed my hand. "We'll go. We can take him some stuff. I'll check with the prison what he's allowed."

  I nodded, uncurled her fingers from mine and reached for my coffee.

  ***

  "Frances, I can't find the report from Gavin May's motel. I wanted to check if he went out again that night."

  "There isn't one. They don't have an electronic system. Basic door locks and keys I'm afraid."

  "Bugger."

  "You need to let it go, Adam. Otherwise, you'll burn yourself out."

  Adam had been working on another case all morning. A twenty-three-year-old Indian woman, strangled to death by her thirty-eight-year-old husband because she hadn't cooked his dinner on time. But he couldn't focus. Gavin May's case kept hijacking his mind.

  A thought struck him. He leapt from his desk and sped from the room leaving Frances looking on with her mouth agape.

  Downstairs in the basement, he located the evidence box for Gavin May.

  Inside were several items. Only one of them interested him.

  "Bingo."

  He raced back up the stairs to his office and threw the clear plastic bag down on the desk in front of Frances.

  "Look at that—tell me what you see."

  She lifted the bag up and peered through the plastic to examine the contents.

  "A cap."

  He nodded. "And?"

  She turned the bag over and back again, then shrugged. "I don't know."

  "Look at the fastening."

  Frances examined the cap again and her eyes lit up. "Oh, I see."

  "It's set to the tightest fitting. Now I wouldn't say our Mr May has the biggest head I'd ever seen, but it's definitely bigger than that. I bet you'd even struggle to get it on."