by M A Comley
“It wasn’t just any lamp. This was one of those oil lamps. The second she threw it, I squeezed my eyes shut. My father’s screams forced them open again. Within seconds, he was engulfed in flames. His gaze latched on to mine as he reached for me. He mouthed three words, the only three words I ever wanted to hear from my mother, but never have: ‘I love you.’” He broke down and buried his shaking head in his trembling hands.
Lorne sniffed and swiftly wiped away the tear that had escaped.
Sally looked dumbfounded by the man’s account.
Swallowing down the lump that had formed in her throat, Lorne said, “My heart bleeds for you, Joe. To have witnessed such a dreadful incident at such a young age beggars belief. To have lived with that image through your childhood must have been traumatic for you. Did you receive any form of counselling?”
“Not in the respect you’re talking about. My mother dished out her own futile attempt at counselling, which came in the form of threats. To be honest, I think she’s possibly lived on her nerves for years since I left the family home.”
“In case you blew the whistle on her?” Lorne queried.
“Yes. It’s taken me most of my life to grow a backbone, to rise up against her.”
Lorne was puzzled by his statement because it certainly hadn’t seemed as though he’d rebelled in any way at the funeral, unless he was referring to arranging their meeting. “And will you, Joe? Rise up against her? What are your intentions?” she asked cautiously.
His gaze met hers, and his eyes narrowed for a split second before reverting to normal. “Nothing unlawful, if that’s what you’re asking, Inspector. I think it’s time my mother paid for her actions.”
“Are you saying that you’d be willing to work with us on bringing your mother to justice?”
He nodded and reached for his glass. “I am.”
“I have to ask, why? Why now, Joe?”
“Because yet another innocent man has lost his life just because he is—or should I say was—associated with this family. Allan was extremely lucky to have escaped the family with his life, although my understanding is that he has grossly suffered financially in the process.”
“Did he tell you that?” Lorne asked.
“No, we’re not in contact with each other. I overheard my mother speaking with Teagan about the situation. Actually, that’s an understatement—they were laughing about it.”
“When was this?” Sally asked.
“After the divorce went through. I can’t recall why there was a family gathering called, but that’s when the conversation occurred. It seems that a big falling-out has taken place since then. Surely you saw the divide between them all at the funeral today?”
“We did notice, yes. What do you think is behind the split, Joe?” Lorne had her suspicions, but she wanted to see if Joe had come to the same conclusion. He shrugged and turned to look out the window again. Lorne grimaced. Have I pushed him too far? “Joe, please don’t stop communicating with us now.”
“I’m not. I’m mulling over what will happen once the truth comes out, all of it!”
“Joe, if you need protecting, we can arrange witness protection for you. It’s not as if you will mind being cut off from your family like other people who have benefited from the scheme, is it?”
“Let me think about that for a few days, Inspector. This is a big deal for me.”
“I appreciate that. I also understand how difficult it will be to destroy your family, which to be honest is likely to occur when you divulge any secrets they have.”
Joe nodded again.
“The one thing I’ll ask you to consider, Joe, is to always have your father’s image in your mind. If nothing else, do it for him. Your mother betrayed him in the most damning way possible. Do not let her be allowed to continue to ruin people’s lives. Is she behind Ryan’s murder?”
He looked Lorne in the eye. “I believe so, in a roundabout way. I can’t say anything else now, not until I’ve thoroughly considered my future.”
Lorne’s heart sank at the thought of him backing out. Is he toying with me? Is he as bad, if not worse, than his family? She wondered if he took some kind of warped pleasure in raising the hopes of coppers. Why hadn’t he come forward earlier about his father’s death? Maybe he had. When she got back to London, she could look into Joe’s background, as well as the rest of the family’s. These people had to be stopped, one way or another—of that much, she was certain. “If not your mother, are you telling us that maybe Lucy is involved in her husband’s death?”
“Don’t push me, Inspector. I’ve asked you to let me think over your proposal. If you’re not willing to give me that time, then I’ll have no other option than to walk away now.”
Lorne saw Sally turn her way out of the corner of her eye, no doubt waiting to see her reaction to his threat. Lorne was seething—she was tempted to slap the cuffs on Joe, but she feared he would likely clam up altogether.
“We’re willing to give you the time, Joe, especially as the recompense will be beneficial to us. How long are you staying in the area?”
“I’ll be making my way home in the morning. I promise to call you once I’ve made my decision.”
Lorne placed one of her business cards on the table in front of him. “Let’s hope that call comes soon, Joe. I’d hate this family to get away with yet another murder.”
Lorne and Sally finished their drinks and left the bar.
“Jesus! What a bloody tease! Do you think that was intentional, or do you genuinely think he had a change of heart halfway through the conversation?” Sally asked as they jumped in the car.
“I’m at a loss what to think, to be honest. If anything, it has made me even more determined to go after the matriarch of this twisted family. To me, it sounds as if she hates men and only uses them to obtain what she needs before discarding them.”
“That’s the conclusion I came to, as well. She likely gets bored with them and swiftly moves on to the next man—or victim,” Sally agreed as they drove along the narrow country lane, heading towards her home.
“Exactly. I’m thinking along the lines of a black widow.”
“Hmm... does this mean you’ll be in need of a bed for an extra few days, Lorne?”
She turned to face her old friend. “Would you mind? It would be nice to catch up properly. I think we make a pretty hot team.”
“What about the investigation back in London?”
“Katy can deal with things there. I think we should tear this family apart while we have them all in the same vicinity.”
“One last question before we switch off our professional heads for the night. Do you think Lucy killed Ryan? She seemed so shocked when we shared the news of his death.”
“I’m not sure, Sally. I don’t know about you, but over the years, I’ve witnessed some incredible play-acting by supposedly grieving widows. I think it would be foolish not to keep her in our sights, for now at least. I hope I’m wrong, for her sake. However, I do believe that someone in that family is behind Ryan’s death. We just need to find the evidence to back up my theory.”
“As simple as that, eh?” Sally laughed.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
On the journey into the station the following morning, Lorne was deep in thought. She and Sally spent numerous hours the evening before going over all the details of the crime, and they’d toppled into bed feeling frustrated at one in the morning.
“Silly question, but what are you thinking about?” Sally asked as she waited for the lights to change at a junction.
“I’m thinking what the consequences would be of me hanging around here for the next few days. How do you think your chief is going to react? Should I get my chief to pave the way?”
“Okay, firstly, I think your involvement at this end is an outstanding idea. Secondly and thirdly, if I tell the chief you’re needed, he should be able to accept my reasoning. However, a little nudge from your chief might be beneficial, too.”
Lorne got out her mobile. “Good. I’ll ring Katy first, make her aware of my plans. She’s more than capable of running the team in my absence, and then I’ll call Sean Roberts, my chief. He should be supportive to the idea; he usually is.”
Katy had no objections to Lorne overseeing the investigation in Norfolk, especially as most, if not all, of the game players were in the area. Sean was a little more hesitant in his acceptance of the situation. Nevertheless, it didn’t take Lorne long to make him see sense. He agreed to give her forty-eight hours to come up with the goods.
Sally and Lorne entered the station but parted at the top of the stairs. Sally insisted that Lorne make herself at home in her office while she dropped in on the chief. A large knot constricted Lorne’s stomach as she awaited Sally’s arrival.
Sally’s face was darker than a storm cloud when she appeared in the doorway of her own office.
“Oh God, that bad, eh? Shall I get on the road now?”
Sally laughed. “No, I’m winding you up. I think we caught him on one of his good days; such a relief, as they tend to come around less frequently than a lunar eclipse.”
“Fabulous news. What’s first on the agenda?”
“Continue with the background checks, I suppose. Do you think we should prioritise Joe’s first?”
“Why don’t I do that? Maybe we can call him later this morning to see if he’s changed his mind about the witness protection scheme.”
“Good idea. I’m going to look into the Timcotts’ finances, see what that throws up. Not before we’ve had a coffee, though.”
Sally left the office and returned with two cups of coffee, which they drank while studying the files of all the family members once more.
After downing the last of her drink, Lorne asked, “Can I have access to a computer?”
“Come with me.” Sally led Lorne to a desk that held a computer monitor and keyboard. “You might get a little hot here. It’s right next to the radiator.”
Lorne smiled. “Suits me. I tend to feel the cold more than most folks anyway. I’ll let you know if I find anything significant.”
“Ditto.”
A few hours into the research, Lorne sat back in her chair and tapped her pen on her chin. Nothing constructive had surfaced in Joe’s background. As far as Lorne could tell, throughout his life, all thirty-seven years of it, he’d avoided any form of trouble. Deep in thought, she jolted when her mobile rang. “Hi, Katy. How’s it going?”
“Are you sitting down, Lorne?”
She sat upright in her chair and sought out a blank piece of paper on which to take notes. “That sounds ominous. Hit me with it.”
“Right, I have to say I never saw this coming, and it’s going to blow your bloody socks off.”
“All right, girl. Get on with it!” Seeing Sally come out of her office, Lorne clicked her fingers and motioned for Sally to join her. “I’m going to put you on speaker. Sally’s here with me.”
Katy exhaled a large sigh before she spoke, and Lorne wondered if her partner was about to object to Sally’s inclusion in the conversation, but Katy continued. “Crap, I genuinely don’t know where to start. Only to say that I think we’ve messed up big time.”
Lorne frowned. “Messed up? How? The investigation has hardly begun, Katy. We can only deal with the evidence as it comes in.”
“That’s just it—I’m not talking about Ryan Timcott’s case, Lorne. It’s the other case I’m referring to, that of Daniel Grade. I’ve just received the DNA results back... the results came back with a mind-blowing revelation. Forensics found traces of saliva on the skin of Grade’s penis.”
Lorne cringed then laughed at Sally’s wide-eyed expression. “You’re going to tell me he had a blowjob before someone cut his dick off, right?”
“Yep, but this is the incredible part—the results match the DNA of someone on our database—a well-known drug addict in the area who has been arrested for dealing and other petty theft crimes.”
“I have a pen poised, waiting for that person’s name.”
“It’s Olga Smitz,” Katy stated before falling silent.
Lorne contemplated the name for a moment or two. It sounded familiar, and she dug into her memory bank to obtain the answer.
“Are you still there, Lorne?” Katy asked, amusement in her tone.
“I’m here. I recognise the name, but I can’t recall where from, Katy. Help me out please?”
“Olga Smitz, youngest daughter of...”
“Bloody hell! Claire Knight. Jesus!” Goose bumps broke out on Lorne’s skin. In spite of the heat hitting her from the radiator, ice blocks had filled her veins.
“Precisely. The cases are linked,” Katy said.
“I don’t understand, hon. How have we messed up?” Lorne asked, shuddering away the chill encompassing her.
“I’ve messed up, not we. The phone Olga used to call his wife. I put the information to one side and forgot all about it. I’m blaming that on my forgetfulness due to this damn pregnancy.”
“You can pack that in, for a start. Shit happens, Katy. There’s no real damage done. It’s only been a few days since the incident occurred. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”
“What shall we do? Arrest her?” Katy asked.
Lorne looked up at Sally. “Shall we? There’s a possibility we could stir up a bucket-load of shit if we turn up at Lucy’s house right now.”
Sally nodded thoughtfully. “We have to, Lorne. We can’t afford to let Olga leave the area. We might never find her again. I’ll arrange a couple of PCs to join us, just in case we hit any trouble.” Sally marched into her office.
“Are you all right, Katy?”
Her partner sighed. “Yeah, majorly pissed off. Feel as though I’ve let you down.”
“Don’t! You haven’t, and we’ll have it sorted, hopefully before the day is out. Can you e-mail me the evidence? We’ll pick her up and drag her in for questioning.”
“Sure. I’ll do it right away. Good luck with the arrest. Let me know what happens later if you can.”
“Gotcha. Take care.”
Lorne disconnected the call and sat back in her chair, resisting the urge to rub her hands together like an excited teenager.
Sally stormed out of her office, her coat on, ready to get going. “Are you fit?”
Lorne picked up her thick jacket and followed Sally out of the incident room, sweeping past the rest of the team, who were issuing their encouragement.
The two police cars—one marked, the other belonging to Sally—pulled into the drive of Lucy Timcott’s home at eleven forty-five. “Looks like no one has left yet,” Lorne stated, guessing by the number of vehicles parked in the drive.
Once all four coppers were out of their cars and standing on the front doorstep of the mansion, Sally gave a rallying call. “Let’s hit them hard and fast.” She rang the bell.
The Thai housekeeper opened the door. Sally and Lorne flashed their badges and barged into the house. “Where are they?” Lorne demanded.
The woman pointed a shaking finger in the direction of the living room where she and Sally had visited Lucy the previous week. Sally opened the door, and Lorne stood alongside her. The two uniformed officers stood menacingly behind them.
“Inspectors? What are you doing here?” Lucy asked, appearing puzzled. “Have you come to tell me you’ve found out who killed my husband?” Lucy sank back in her chair as if uttering the words had sapped all her strength.
“We’re getting there, Lucy. Is your sister Olga around?” Sally asked.
“She’s upstairs, sleeping. What do you want with her?”
Lorne’s gaze locked with Claire’s and held it for a few moments before the mother glanced at Lucy.
Sally motioned for the officers to stand near the bottom of the stairs. “We’d like a chat with her. All right if I go upstairs?”
“I don’t understand. Why do you want to talk to Olga? Is this about Ryan’s death?”
“Not exactly. We’d
rather not go into detail until we’ve spoken to your sister,” Sally replied, then spun on her heel and led the officers up the stairs.
Lorne had decided in the car that Sally should make the arrest, while she remained with the other family members to gauge their reaction as the events unfolded.
Lucy appeared confused and asked her mother, “What do you think this is about, Mum? Has Olga done something wrong?”
Claire shrugged. “I have no idea what that child gets up to. Maybe it’s to do with her habit. I’ve warned her countless times not to be reliant on the damn drugs. Does she listen to me? No! Is that what this is about, Inspector?”
Before Lorne could reply, a commotion broke out upstairs. Olga started shouting and cursing. It sounded like a herd of buffalo thundering across the floor above.
“Ouch, you’ll pay for that,” one of the male officers shouted.
A psychotic laugh travelled down the stairs and into the living room.
Claire left her seat and walked into the hallway. “Don’t fight them, Olga. I’ll get onto the solicitor now.”
“Wise words, Mrs. Knight. You can tell your solicitor to show up at the police station in Wymondham. That’s where your daughter is going to be held for questioning.”
“On what charge, Inspector?”
“Murder!”
Lucy bounced forward in her chair. “You’re making a mistake. Olga would never do such a thing.” She gasped as if something had just dawned on her. “You don’t mean she’s the one who killed Ryan, do you?”
“There’s every possibility. At the moment, we’re taking her in for questioning about another crime, unrelated to Ryan’s death. Let’s leave it at that for now. Your husband’s case is ongoing. New leads are coming our way every day.” Lorne looked over at Claire, who was studying her through dark eyes filled with hatred. “It’s only a matter of time before we begin to slot all the pieces of this puzzle together, Lucy. We should have a definitive answer for you shortly. After all, there are two experienced police forces working the case.”
“But Olga wouldn’t hurt a fly. I know her,” Lucy appealed.
“Hush, child. Don’t say another word. Leave the solicitor to wipe the floor with these insufferable people who have nothing better to do all day than sit behind their desks, surmising they know who the criminals are, only to be wrong half the time.”