Heartbreaker (Brennan and Esposito Series)

by Tania Carver

  Or at least that was the impression Phil received. And even though he shouldn’t have let it, that rankled.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ he said. ‘So you say you didn’t kill your wife. Well, the jury’s still out on that one. But you would have ended up here anyway. Maybe not like this, maybe not on this day. But you would have been sitting here, looking across the table at me, or someone like me. It would have happened eventually. Definitely.’

  ‘Really?’ Adderley still smiling, still not taking in Phil’s words.

  Denial, thought Phil. Work on that. ‘Yeah. Because that’s what you’re like. This…’ he gestured round the room, ‘is who you are. A criminal.’

  ‘A criminal. I see.’

  Phil leaned forward. ‘Not only that, but a coward.’

  Adderley flinched, blinked. Phil, sensing a glimmer of breakthrough, of victory, kept going. Ramped it up a notch.

  ‘A coward,’ he continued, ‘who’s terrified of the world. And what he thinks it’s done to him, or could do to him. Who hates and fears it because it makes him feel powerless. So what does this coward do? What do you do? You bottle up all this hate and fear inside you. And because you’re too pathetic to let it out any other way, you take it out on someone else. But this person has to be weaker and smaller than you. And if this person also has the bad luck to love you, even better. It makes all your hate and fear hurt them more. All that rage you pummelled out, transferred to Gemma. Your wife. And what was her crime? To fall in love with you.’

  Phil sat back, not bothering to disguise the disgust he felt at Adderley. Something to be said for being suspended, he thought. I can say what I like. Or rather, what I feel.

  The endorphins were firing up, the righteous anger coming out. The old Phil, back again. He was actually starting to enjoy himself.

  63

  ‘Good, isn’t he?’

  Sperring turned. He was in the viewing suite, watching Phil interview Adderley. And he was pleased with what he had seen. His boss had his old fire back, not like the angry, moping individual of recent times, shooting off his anger and despair at the most misplaced of targets. This was Phil back to what he did best.

  ‘Didn’t hear you come in,’ said Sperring, hiding the fact that he had actually jumped on hearing Marina’s voice. ‘He is. Much as I hate to admit it.’

  Marina gave a tight smile, moved closer to him, looked at the screen.

  The room was small, almost a store cupboard, with a desk, an old chair and a monitor. But sometimes, especially if there was a big case on and an interview was going to blow it open, it took on TARDIS-like dimensions, somehow accommodating all the officers who wanted to see and be part of the outcome.

  ‘Has he confessed?’ asked Marina.

  ‘To his girlfriend’s murder,’ said Sperring. ‘That’s all.’

  ‘So why did he want to see only Phil?’

  ‘I think we’re coming to that.’

  They continued to watch the screen, Sperring throwing surreptitious glances across at Marina, trying to work out what she was seeing, how she was feeling.

  She looked proud, smiling a little, even.

  ‘Hope he’s back soon,’ said Sperring, not taking his eyes off the screen. ‘Properly.’

  ‘So do I,’ Marina said, the words coming out on a sigh.

  Sperring took his attention away from the screen, focused on Marina. ‘Why not wait till he gets out? Have a word?’

  Marina looked round, suddenly flustered, like she was trapped and couldn’t find an exit. Startled by her own words. ‘I’d… better go. I… I’ve got work to do.’

  ‘Marina…’

  ‘I’ve got to go.’ She turned, made for the door.

  Sperring put his hand on her arm. ‘Just wait. What’s the matter with you?’

  Marina stared at the hand, hard, until he released her. ‘Look, I just don’t want to bump into him.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I don’t feel… I’m not ready to see him yet, that’s why not.’

  Sperring shook his head, gave a bark of a laugh. ‘Jesus. Why can’t the pair of you behave like grown-ups and talk to each other? What’s so bad you can’t sort it out between you?’

  Marina turned away from him, not wanting him to see her face. ‘You don’t understand.’

  Sperring moved to her, turned her round to face him. ‘I do understand.’

  ‘He… If she comes back, he won’t be able to protect me. Or our daughter. It’s better if we’re apart.’

  ‘Better for who? Look, Marina, I’ve been working with him all this time. I know exactly what he’s been going through, I’ve had it every day. It’s been like hauling round the Incredible Sulk. It’s hit him hard. And I’m sure it’s been hard on you too.’

  ‘Yes.’ Looking straight in his eyes. ‘It has.’

  ‘All the more reason to talk, then. Sort it out.’

  She broke the connection, turned away from him. ‘I’m not ready…’

  ‘Oh, Jesus Christ.’ Sperring shook his head once more. ‘Honestly. You two. Like dealing with a pair of kids sometimes.’

  She glanced at the screen once more. Sperring thought she looked torn: part of her wanting to go, part of her wanting to stay. He said nothing, waited to see which part would win.

  ‘I really have to go,’ said Marina.

  Sperring knew there was nothing more he could say.

  ‘Whatever you think’s best.’ He couldn’t look at her.

  He heard her leave the room, close the door behind her with a soft click. He went back to watching the screen.

  He wasn’t alone for long. The door opened once more and Cotter entered.

  ‘Has he got a confession yet?’

  ‘Only for the girlfriend,’ said Sperring once more. ‘Not the wife. Think he’s going in for that now.’

  Cotter nodded, watched. ‘So now we get to it,’ she said. ‘Now we see once and for all if it’s him or not.’

  The atmosphere in the room was suddenly tense.

  64

  Phil was back in the groove now, like he had never been away. Like he had never lost his focus.

  Or Marina.

  ‘So you killed Trudi,’ he said, ploughing on in to Adderley. ‘That much you admit.’

  Adderley nodded.

  ‘But what about Gemma? Your wife?’

  ‘No. I didn’t kill her.’

  Phil gave a sad smile, shook his head slowly. ‘No point in lying now, Roy. You’re here. You’re going down for this. You may as well admit it. You’ve got nothing to lose.’

  Adderley leaned forward, eyes wide, unblinking. ‘I didn’t kill her.’

  ‘Just admit it,’ said Phil once more, but he could sense – reluctantly – the truth in Adderley’s words.

  ‘I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill Gemma. Or that other woman.’

  ‘So where did you go the night I watched you? Where did you drive off to?’

  Adderley shrugged uncomfortably. ‘Just… drove.’

  ‘Where to?’

  Another shrug.

  ‘Okay,’ said Phil. ‘Let’s say I believe you about Gemma and Janine Gillen. Just tell me where you drove to and we’ll leave it at that. Satisfy my curiosity, if nothing else.’

  Adderley was clearly unhappy at being asked to deviate from what he wanted to say. But Phil was insistent.

  ‘Tell me, Roy.’

  ‘I… had sex.’ His head dropped with shame.

  ‘You had sex. What, someone you knew?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘A prostitute? That what you mean?’

  Another nod of the head. Much more reluctant this time.

  ‘So where did you go to pick this woman up? Balsall Heath, round there?’

  Adderley mumbled something under his breath. Phil leaned closer to hear it.

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘I said, it wasn’t a woman.’ Adderley looked up. Shame burned in his eyes.

  ‘A man?’ Phil was stunned. ‘You visited
a male prostitute?’

  He nodded once more.

  ‘So that’s it. Right. Why you hate women so much. Even why you turned to God. You feel like you should be doing one thing, living your life one way. But your family, your… I don’t know, culture, whatever, tells you you should be doing something else, is that it?’

  Adderley looked up, eyes filled with tears, face twisted with self-loathing. ‘You know nothing. Nothing about me. I’m not gay. I’m not. That was… an accident.’

  ‘You’ve done it before, though. That wasn’t your first time.’

  Adderley stared.

  ‘And you always felt bad afterwards, right? Always felt sorry for yourself. Ashamed. You probably prayed, promised it wouldn’t happen again.’

  Adderley’s head dropped once more, shoulders shaking as he sobbed.

  ‘But eventually you felt the urge to do it again. That right?’

  Adderley looked up, angry this time. ‘No. That’s where you’re wrong. I wouldn’t have done it again. Because I’ve got God’s help. He keeps me strong. He helps me when I’m feeling… tempted.’

  ‘So you didn’t kill Gemma.’

  ‘No. I didn’t.’

  ‘But you would have done. If she’d stayed with you.’

  ‘I wouldn’t.’

  ‘You would. You would have made it impossible for her to leave, no matter how much she wanted to. Scared her so much that she had to stay. And all it would have taken would have been one blow too many, and it would have been her you beat to death.’

  Adderley said nothing.

  ‘Or it could have been the next one. After Trudi. Maybe Trudi wouldn’t have waited around to find out what you were like. One slap from you and she’d have been off. But you’d have found another. And you’d have killed her. It was going to happen, Adderley. The way you are, you were always going to kill someone. It was only a matter of time.’

  Adderley’s face looked like it had been repeatedly slapped, Phil’s words having their effect. He wiped the tears from his cheeks, then sat still, his lips moving in silent, secret conversation, eyes closed. Eventually he opened them and that same stupid, beatific smile appeared on his face again. Back in control. Or what passed for his control.

  ‘It’s all your fault,’ he said once more.

  Phil shook his head, about to start again, but Adderley beat him to it.

  ‘It is,’ he said, ‘and that’s all right. Really.’ Nodding now, still smiling. ‘You know why?’ Leaning forward, as if about to let Phil in on some great secret. ‘Do you? Mmm?’ He sat back, arms out. ‘Because I forgive you.’

  ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake…’

  ‘And Jesus forgives you. I forgive you. And Jesus forgives you.’

  Adderley put his arms down and fell silent. Staring straight ahead, nodding to the words of a voice only he could hear, the vapid grin still in place.

  ‘That it?’ asked Phil.

  No reply from Adderley.

  ‘You’ve said your piece now, yeah? You’ve brought me all in the way in here when I could have been sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea watching Homes Under the Hammer and Deal Or No Deal just so you, a murderer, wife-abuser and repressed homosexual, can forgive me.’ Phil gave a short, harsh laugh. ‘Brilliant.’

  Adderley said nothing, but the smile, Phil noticed, became more fixed.

  Phil hadn’t finished, though. ‘Well, that’s nice. How fine and dandy. Lovely.’ He leaned forward once more. ‘But it’s you who should be worried about being forgiven. Don’t you think?’

  ‘God will forgive me,’ said Adderley. ‘Jesus has redeemed me.’

  ‘I’m not talking about God,’ said Phil. ‘Let’s put him aside for one minute. And I know that you religious types can twist anything to make your holy book say the things you want it to say, so let’s also put aside the bit about “Thou shalt not kill”. Not to mention the lying down with other men your lot seem to have such a problem with. That’s for you to deal with in your own time. Of which you’re going to have plenty.’

  Adderley stared at the wall. Phil continued.

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘not God. Much nearer to home. And a lot more real. I’m talking about Carly.’

  Adderley flinched, as if expecting a blow.

  ‘Carly. You must remember her. Little girl, very trusting, very hurt now, of course. Hopefully she’ll recover, but it’s going to be a long road. Living with her grandparents, last I heard. Her mother’s parents, of course. But then she has to, because you sent her mother, the one good and positive thing in her life, away from her. Forced her away from you. You should have been loving Carly, protecting her, nurturing her. Instead you made her home a battlefield. You terrified her. Now, when she has nightmares, it’ll be your face she sees.’

  Adderley shook his head, hoping to dislodge Phil’s words. ‘No…’

  Phil kept on. ‘You couldn’t bear the fact that your wife and daughter were leaving you, so you killed Gemma, made it look like a madman was on the loose.’

  ‘No…’

  ‘Then you killed Janine Gillen. Why, Roy? What for?’

  Adderley stared at him, eyes imploring. ‘I didn’t kill Janine! I didn’t! I never even knew her, honestly! Why… why would I lie? I killed Trudi, why would I lie?’

  Phil sat back. He had been in enough interrogation rooms, heard enough confessions to know when someone was telling the truth. Adderley wasn’t the killer. The Heartbreaker. But that didn’t let him off the hook.

  ‘Fair enough. You didn’t kill Janine Gillen. But you sent your daughter and her mother off into the arms of a madman, who abandoned Carly and tortured and killed Gemma.’ He pointed at Adderley. ‘You did that. You. Not me. I don’t need to be forgiven. Just you. You should be asking Carly to forgive you.

  ‘And then there’s Gemma herself. Gone. Dead. Her parents now have to bury their daughter. D’you think that’s right? That parents should be the ones to bury their children? D’you think they’ll be forgiving you any time soon?’

  Adderley’s bottom lip started trembling.

  ‘Ask Trudi’s parents for forgiveness while you’re at it. Tell them what you’ve done to their daughter. And her two sons. They knew their mother was with you because you’d put a roof over her head, give her a safe place to bring up her kids. What about them? Going to their mother’s funeral? Will they want to forgive you?’

  Phil sat back again, finished. And in that moment he felt more alive than he had for a long time. More sure of who he was and what he was supposed to be doing in the world. Confident of himself and even of his future.

  Adderley stared straight ahead, his face impassive. An alabaster death mask. Tears formed and rolled from his eyes.

  Phil stood up, made for the door, turned back.

  ‘There’s a special place in prison reserved for the likes of you. A special wing. It’s where the rapists go. The child-abusers and killers, the wife-beaters and murderers. Even in prison there’s a hierarchy. And you’re going to be the lowest of the low. The scum. Hated by everyone, staff and inmates alike. That’s your life, what you’ve got to look forward to. Where you’ll get…’

  ‘What?’ Adderley’s voice was small, tremulous. ‘What? What will I get?’

  ‘What’s coming to you. What you deserve. See how many of your new friends want to forgive you.’

  Adderley’s head dropped, shoulders heaving. Uncontrollable sobs.

  ‘I’m going now,’ said Phil.

  Adderley looked up. ‘Why? B—because you have to?’

  ‘No,’ said Phil, his voice calm and ice cold. ‘Because I can’t stand the fucking sight of you.’

  He left the room.

  Sperring was waiting outside the door.

  ‘All yours,’ said Phil, and walked away.

  65

  ‘It’s back on.’

  Cotter strode into the incident room. Imani, Patel and Marina all looked up.

  ‘Adderley didn’t kill his wife. He’s not the Heartbreaker. And yes, I
know I said never to use that word in here. But we’re back with Plan A. Let’s go.’

  66

  Marina was back in the incident room, working through a pile of files, at the temporary desk they had assigned her. Trying not to think of Phil, of how he had been when she had just seen him. Trying and failing.

  He had looked like the man she’d fallen in love with. Strong, in command. And handsome. Very, very handsome.

  She tried to put all that to one side, concentrate on what she was supposed to be doing. She couldn’t think about him at the moment. Maybe they did need to talk. In fact they definitely did. But not here, not now. She had work to do. Finding matches between the killer’s victims and previous missing women.

  Even though some on the team had taken to calling him the Heartbreaker, Marina refused to do that. She hated the way serial killers – or multiple murderers, as she preferred – quickly had a nickname attached to them. And it always stuck. Something dramatic, heroic or romantic, even. Very Hollywood.

  In Marina’s experience, multiple murderers were among the most banal, boring people she had ever met. Worse even than golfing enthusiasts and UKIP candidates. They killed because there was something lacking in them. Because their hard-wiring was twisted. There was nothing romantic, dramatic and certainly not heroic about them. Their brains were like hotel breakfast-buffet eggs, fried or scrambled, and their motives a collection of sad, and often harrowing, life experiences that went beyond psychological causes and explainable, dramatic tropes to become tiresome clichés. They had all suffered abuse as children. Not all abused children went on to abuse, but all adult abusers had once been in that situation. They had probably also suffered some serious head trauma that had sent their neural pathways down different routes. Combined with an already twisted pathology due to the abuse, that created a serial killer. Sorry, multiple murderer.

  Marina knew all that. But it didn’t help get her any nearer to finding him. So she hoped the list that Elli was going through could provide some help.

  ‘Marina?’

  Speak of the devil. Marina got up, crossed to Elli’s desk. ‘How you getting on?’