Never Say Goodbye: An edge of your seat thriller with gripping suspense (Detective Tom Fabian Book 1)

by Richard Parker

  ‘No solid alibis for the eighth yet.’ Banner lowered her voice as a uniformed officer passed by them.

  ‘Except for Marcus Langham. I wonder if he really did try to step under the train in a moment of madness?’

  Banner’s phone rang, and she took it out of her back pocket. ‘Whatever sort of relationship they had, maybe Candice did mean everything to him.’

  As she strode away to take the call it was still Tilly’s face that was foremost in Fabian’s thoughts, however. He tried her again. Voicemail.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  ‘Working late?’ Fabian addressed Debbie Chive, the mortuary operations coordinator in the small clinical reception.

  She looked up from the fan of pink forms spread over her desk and squinted at him over her glasses. Her curly hair was dyed a dark henna colour that highlighted her pale, wrinkled features. ‘Any good at massage?’

  ‘For you?’

  ‘For Mills.’

  ‘In that case, no.’

  ‘Is he suffering again?’ Banner was more sympathetic.

  ‘Yes. But I imagine he’d let you walk up and down his back.’

  ‘Not in these heels.’

  ‘Especially in those heels.’ She nodded them through.

  Fabian pushed the swing door and Banner followed.

  ‘I was just about to call you.’ Mills was stooping by the examining table where the naked corpse of Emily Mortimer was laid out.

  The sickly sweet aroma hung in the air and Fabian wondered if Mills even noticed it any more. On the table beside it was the folded blue body bag that had been used to transport her. It was already tagged as evidence.

  ‘You’ll have to excuse me.’ Mills walked to a silver stool to the right of the body and lifted his portly frame onto the seat with a grunt.

  ‘Still not got a proper diagnosis from the chiropractor?’ Fabian knew he didn’t need to ask.

  ‘The moment that’s official is the moment I lose my parking space.’

  ‘But you never shut up about retirement.’

  ‘It’s all about timing.’ He swallowed and was clearly in a lot of pain. ‘Lucinda is in the middle of organising my daughter’s second wedding.’

  Fabian followed Banner’s gaze to Emily Mortimer. The remains of her mouth was open slightly and her false eyelashes still half hooded. With the crusted blood wiped from her chin they could see the mutilations clearly. Her fingers were still curled tight to her palms and, now the body had been cleaned, he could see four other deep slits to her chest aside from the one below her breast. A new incision had been made down its middle.

  ‘As suspected, no sexual assault.’ Mills made the stool squeak as he shifted his weight on it.

  Fabian approached the table. ‘Same knife?’

  Mills nodded. ‘Balisong. Swedge blade. The assailant appears to have stabbed her indiscriminately, probably to subdue her before the fatal blow. The blade only grazed the heart but severed a coronary artery. Massive internal bleed, catastrophic drop in blood pressure. She probably passed out and was dead within four minutes.’

  ‘Time of death?’ Fabian asked as Banner joined him at the table.

  ‘Between nine and ten last night.’

  That meant Cousins could have been at the scene. Was he still in her home when Fabian had phoned him? After interviewing Vicar he had to consider Brennan as well, however. McMann had confirmed that Whiting hadn’t thought Brennan significant and that he’d only been questioned about his whereabouts on the night Candice had been murdered.

  ‘The cuts to the face were made after she’d died.’

  Fabian studied the slits to her fingers and the one in the muscle at the base of her thumb. ‘Anything under the nails?’

  Mills shook his head. ‘Looks like she didn’t get near enough to her attacker to scratch him.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Nothing in the stomach but a berry smoothie. She obviously wasn’t a fan of solids.’

  ‘How about Janet Wells?’ Fabian’s eyes shifted to the drawers on the left wall.

  ‘I can get her out for you if you like.’

  ‘I’ve seen the report. No doubt it was the same attacker?’

  ‘Same blade. Facial wounds inflicted just after death.’

  ‘And there’re no similarities between any of the five victims’ wounds?’

  ‘Apart from them being around the face there doesn’t appear to be.’ Mills reached over for some notes on the table behind him but couldn’t reach.

  Banner fetched and handed them over so he didn’t have to get off his seat.

  ‘Thanks.’ He flicked the pages. ‘Candice Langham had three incisions made… Joe Middleton seven… Keeley Riding three… Janet Wells four.’

  ‘And Emily?’

  ‘Five or six. If you look closely, one deep stroke runs into the other.’

  Fabian leaned down to confirm that. ‘No precision but still a signature.’

  Mills slid his hand over his bald pate and rubbed the remaining grey hairs at the back of his collar. ‘He’s defacing the victims – very literally.’

  ‘The acid attacks we’ve been seeing in the news lately…’ Fabian thought out loud, ‘they’re targeted at young people. Good-looking people. It’s all about ruining their looks. These are people being murdered because their names fit the route.’

  ‘Why do it then?’ Banner regarded Emily’s misted-over eyes. ‘Just so we know it’s the same killer or is he telling us something more?’

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Rain pattered lightly on the dark blue hood of the man’s coat. Then he heard footsteps to the front door before it opened. ‘Sorry, am I at number 39?’ This was not who he’d been expecting to answer.

  ‘Yeah.’ The adolescent had bleached hair, a sharp side parting and a sprinkle of dark bumfluff on his chin. He seemed uncertain if he should shut the door.

  It must be the son. Adam. ‘It’s your dad, Jim, I’m after.’ It was. ‘Is he in?’

  ‘Oh right.’ The boy half smiled, suspicion gone. ‘He’s had to do an extra shift. Shall I tell him who called?’

  He kept his rubber-clad hands in the pockets of his coat. The teenager had on a black Avenged Sevenfold T-shirt but it looked pretty baggy on him. Not a lot of muscle on the bone.

  ‘I’m an old friend of his. Can I leave you my number?’

  ‘Err, sure.’ Adam hovered uncertainly. ‘Just a sec.’ The boy turned and headed back into the house.

  Locating a corresponding surname as well as a house with few security issues was a tall order and his surveillance of the semi-detached council property had only just begun, so he shouldn’t have been surprised to find a less than ideal situation. But a new urgency had prompted him to bring his visit forward and he’d prepared himself to improvise. Taking a swift look up the drive at the empty street behind him he followed the teenager through into the hallway and crooked his arm around his neck.

  Adam cried out and reacted before he could lock him in his grip and staggered away to the left, stumbling forward, bouncing against the wall but quickly recovering.

  ‘It’s OK,’ he tried to placate him.

  The teenager had already hit the bottom of the stairs, however, and started frantically climbing them.

  He pursued him and slipped the knife out of the back of his trousers.

  The boy was a quarter of the way up the flight but that meant his legs were at the perfect height.

  He jabbed the blade into Adam’s left calf, and he yelled but despite him staggering, adrenaline kept his legs moving and he continued scrambling up the stairs with the knife firmly planted there.

  ‘Just hold up…’ His feet pounded the stair carpet and he gained on him as the teenager faltered near the top.

  As he toppled, the pain had caught up with the boy and so did he. Pulling the knife from Adam’s leg he gripped the handle firmly and was about to thrust it into his back when the teenager shot forward and up onto the landing.

  He stayed
close behind as the boy ricocheted twice off the walls and opened a door to the left.

  His shoulder blocked the panel as the teenager attempted to slam it behind him and he bulldozed through and found himself in his bedroom. A drum kit was set up in the window where the curtains were closed. That’s why he hadn’t known if Jim Newman’s son had been present or not.

  The boy made a beeline for a bathroom door on the other side of the bed and banged it shut.

  He reached it in time for the key to turn in the lock.

  ‘Get away from me. I’m calling the police!’ Adam shouted but his breaking voice sounded more like a child’s.

  He scanned the room. There was no phone on the bedside table. His eyes fell on the mobile charging on the dresser. He held his face to the Formica door. ‘Listen to me. I know you can’t call the police.’

  ‘I’m calling them now!’

  ‘Calm down and you won’t be hurt. I can see your phone from here. You can’t call them.’

  ‘Help!’ The teenager beat his fists on the far wall.

  He knew the window wasn’t big enough to squeeze out of but the noise was loud enough for the neighbours to hear.

  An Asian family lived next door and he couldn’t afford to have anyone investigate or see him leave. ‘If you stop doing that now, I’ll walk out of here. I promise.’

  The banging continued.

  ‘Adam,’ he warned.

  It stopped.

  He knew using his name would startle him. ‘I’m leaving but you’re not to make a sound. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes. Go… please,’ Adam implored.

  ‘If you thump that wall I’m breaking the door in. Hear me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He stood straight, then paced slowly and deliberately to the door they’d just entered through, boards creaking under his boots. It sounded like he was leaving but he needed the run up. He’d come for Jim Newman, but Adam Newman would suffice. He turned and paused, silently filling his lungs with air. Then he launched himself towards the bathroom.

  Blinding pain followed. The panel hadn’t given. Had he broken his shoulder?

  The thudding on the wall inside started anew.

  He had to get at him now or flee. But the boy had seen him. Could identify him. He slammed his right shoulder against the door again, but it still didn’t break.

  ‘Help me!’

  He butted the door a third time and heard something pop. Not the lock. Probably his shoulder. He clenched himself in readiness for more pain and then took another run at it.

  The door slammed wide and he carried on going. Something broke around his head and he was suddenly deaf in one ear. What the hell had he been hit with? There were white china fragments all around his feet.

  He tottered, dazed, and Adam slithered around him and back into the bedroom. Couldn’t let him go. Couldn’t allow him to get out of the house. He lunged for him and grabbed a handful of his black T-shirt.

  ‘Let me go!’ The words were guttural terror.

  He tightened the material in his fist and heard it tear at the neck as the boy heaved himself away from his fingers. He released it and caught the teenager’s bony shoulder. He had to silence him. A fist caught him ineffectually under the chin. ‘Just calm down now.’

  ‘Help!’

  He could smell the boy’s sweat, the sourness of his breath. He sustained another blow to his face and then thrust the knife as hard as he could into his stomach.

  The teenager released a muted yelp and immediately froze.

  He felt warmth against his knuckles.

  The boy looked at him with undiluted disbelief, his features swinging between that and pain as the knife was moved left and right inside him.

  He released him and his body slid off the blade but he caught him by his stretched collar and eased him to the floor so he wouldn’t make too much of an impact. Then he waited, listening for signs of movement next door or down in the hallway.

  Nobody coming in through the front door.

  Applause. Whatever Adam had been watching on the TV downstairs filtered into his eardrums as his circulation gradually slowed.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  ‘You saw him from behind?’

  The young Indian mother in the bright pink saree nodded at Fabian and rocked the child in her arms.

  Light was streaming out from her front door, and she was the only splash of colour amongst the night activity outside the Tooting target property. There was slow traffic of officers in and out of the semi and Fabian and Banner watched the activity with her from next door’s drive.

  ‘I heard banging. To begin with I thought Adam was on his drums again.’

  ‘I’ve already made many complaints about it.’ Her elderly father was standing at her shoulder.

  ‘You heard banging…’ Banner prompted.

  Mrs Shah patted her daughter. ‘Then I could hear him shouting. That’s not unusual either because his friends come over to rehearse when his father is at work.’

  ‘His father we have no problem with. But his boy…’ Her father realised how inappropriate the comment was and fell silent.

  ‘We’re still trying to reach him. He drives a shuttle at Heathrow Airport,’ Banner explained.

  ‘So you saw somebody leave?’ Fabian asked.

  ‘Yes. I heard a crash and then everything went quiet. I went to the front bedroom and looked out of the window to see if his friends’ cars were parked outside. They weren’t. Then I heard the front door slam. I saw a man in a blue hooded raincoat walk quickly out of the driveway.’

  ‘Did you see his face?’

  She bounced her baby and shook her head at Fabian.

  ‘How tall was he?’

  ‘Taller than average.’

  Fabian recalled how Brennan had towered over him.

  ‘He was injured though.’

  ‘Injured how? Limping?’

  ‘Not limping. He was clutching his one arm.’

  ‘Which?’

  She briefly rolled her eyes up. ‘His right.’

  ‘His right? OK. Where did he go?’

  ‘He turned left out of the drive and started moving faster. That’s when I noticed he was wearing blue surgical gloves. Soon as I saw those I opened the window and shouted at him. He didn’t stop.’

  ‘What’s down that way?’

  ‘An allotment. But there’s a path that bypasses it.’

  ‘And beyond it?’

  ‘Sainsbury’s car park.’

  Fabian’s eyes slid briefly to Banner’s. There would be cameras. ‘And that leads back onto the high street?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Let’s take a look. Thank you, Mrs Shah.’

  They both exited the drive and headed the way the attacker had gone.

  ‘Even if he didn’t park up there the CCTV may well have caught him cutting through.’

  ‘That’s if the cameras were working.’ Fabian knew it often wasn’t the case.

  Banner picked up her pace. ‘So that’s Cousins definitely out of the picture.’

  Fabian struggled to keep up. ‘There’s something else going on there and I think Reid knows what.’

  ‘But for now we focus on locating Brennan?’

  ‘And bring Kirsten in, in the meantime.’

  They reached a metal barrier and slalomed around it to enter a dirt path bordered by a wall on one side and a high fence at the edge of the allotment that had barbed wire along the top. In the overhead streetlight Fabian could see potting sheds on divided plots.

  Both of them scanned the path and the wire for openings, but it looked relatively new and when they reached the end of the track it was clear Adam Newman’s killer would have probably passed along it. It was very unlikely he’d scaled the fence.

  ‘We’re less than two hours behind him.’

  Fabian was thinking exactly the same thing. ‘And it’s less than twenty-four hours since he attacked Emily Mortimer. That’s the shortest gap between victims. Why is he acc
elerating?’

  ‘Whatever the reason, it’s likely to cause him to make mistakes.’

  ‘I think he may have already.’

  They weaved around the next barrier and entered the illuminated car park. It was full of vehicles. Shoppers were ferrying their shopping in trollies out of the sliding doors at the rear of the supermarket.

  Fabian scanned the walls of the structure and spotted four spherical cameras positioned along it. ‘There.’ He pointed.

  ‘And at the exit.’

  Fabian saw they were angled over a height restriction sign. ‘Looks well covered.’ He peered around at the people milling about them. ‘He wouldn’t have gone out via the shop floor. He’d have been lit there as well. That was probably where he left.’

  They both made for the car park exit.

  ‘Which way?’ Fabian looked up and down the busy street.

  ‘Shops that way. If he wasn’t panicking he would have got off the high street as quickly as possible.’ Banner started walking left to a turn off about fifty yards away. ‘Looks residential this way.’

  They strode to the turning and were looking down a road with Victorian houses either side.

  ‘Woodbury Street.’ Banner opened Google Maps on her phone. ‘Yeah, plenty of roads off this one. He could lose himself in there.’

  ‘Let’s go and speak to security at the supermarket. He could be already on his way to the next victim. Remind me what our next street is on the route.’

  Banner double-checked. ‘Newman leads to Oxford Street.’

  ‘Roads off Newman?’

  ‘Newman Passage, Eastcastle Street, Rathbone Square.’

  ‘Is Eastcastle a surname?’

  ‘No. I’ve checked. And Newman Passage doesn’t lead anywhere.’

  ‘He hasn’t used a name more than once so far. But we know Rathbone and Oxford are surnames.’

  She nodded grimly.

  ‘And Oxford Street is a very long road. He hits that and he’s got a hell of a lot of names to choose from.’

  Chapter Forty-Five

  ‘OK, wind it back some more.’ Fabian eyed the clock at the bottom of the screen.