Gallows Drop

by Mari Hannah

  Kate accessed the report. ‘Is he on licence to anyone?’

  ‘No. He refused to acknowledge his condition initially. Wouldn’t accept that he was in the wrong. Eventually, he began to play ball. Agreed to a brain scan. Took medication. Responded to treatment. His fixation diminished. Despite what you might think, it is possible to treat and work with patients with this pathological condition. So long as they cooperate, they pose no threat to the wider community.’

  Kate didn’t doubt it. But in her line of work, she’d seen the worst-case scenarios become a reality far too often. Treatment programmes had gone horribly wrong, some ending in death at the hands of someone with a personality disorder where paranoia was present. She couldn’t accept that Collins was anything other than a manipulative freak who deserved all that was coming to him.

  ‘And if he’s not taking his medication?’ she asked.

  The pause that followed was an answer in itself.

  ‘That’s why we got involved.’ Jo said. ‘I’m so sorry for not alerting you sooner.’

  ‘It’s not your fault.’

  ‘It feels like it is.’

  ‘According to Control, Collins has already lost it. He wasn’t pulling his punches when he got hold of Beth. We’re searching for them. It says here that he deteriorated quickly before his last serious assault on a girlfriend. That worries me.’

  ‘It should,’ Jo said. ‘His victim was terrified to leave the house. He used to follow her, everywhere, even to the toilet. If she so much as smiled at another boy, he’d accuse her of having a full-blown affair. If the phone rang, he’d pick up an extension and listen to her calls. He read her mail, banned her from using a computer, drove her to and from work, examined her underwear. Can you imagine?’

  ‘I’m reading it now.’

  Kate’s eyes flew over the text.

  The information contained in those digital pages made her blood run cold, her stress levels rise to an all-time high. There was reference to impaired mental capacity, antipsychotic drugs she couldn’t pronounce, as well as a statement from his victim that her fidelity was intact. According to the report, Collins was having none of it.

  ‘Blimey!’ she said. ‘We all experience jealousy from time to time but this is way beyond the norm. He sounds like a bloody madman. I detected jealousy when I was with him, but nothing like this.’

  ‘He has Othello Syndrome—’

  ‘Oh, terrific! All I need is a diagnosis that will let him off the hook.’

  ‘It’s a recognized condition, Kate.’

  ‘Is it?’ Kate snapped. ‘I’m sorry to sound cynical, but it goes against the grain to treat him like a patient and not the violent perpetrator his is. Give guys like him a label and they think they’re home and dry. It also hands him a convenient defence in a court of law. I’ve been dealing with guys like him all my working life. I don’t give a stuff about his various manifestations. As far as I’m concerned, he’s a bully out of control. There’s a lot of it about. Treatment didn’t do him much good, did it?’

  ‘Some you win.’

  ‘Tell that to the Angry Man. He’s another headcase—’

  ‘He knows about the abduction?’

  ‘He was with me when I found out. He went for me—’

  ‘What? Did he hurt you?’

  ‘No, but guess who he’s blaming. It might not be my signature on the bail form but I was the one who authorized the release of the boyfriend from hell.’

  ‘I can only imagine how angry he is.’

  ‘I don’t think you can. You know what? If he’d kept his cool, I’d have taken him with me to find her. He’s a bloody liability. The guv’nor was so incensed when he kicked off this time. In spite of the horrendous stress Atkins is under, Naylor frogmarched him to the custody suite and locked him up.’

  ‘He’s in the cells?’

  ‘A padded cell is what he needs.’

  ‘With his daughter’s life in danger?’

  ‘Is that a euphemism for “next time I see her she’ll be lying on a mortuary slab”?’

  ‘I never said that.’

  ‘You didn’t criticize me either. It just sounded like you did.’

  ‘It seems a bit callous, that’s all.’

  ‘I’m aware that the situation is less than ideal. Atkins may be a victim on this occasion, but he doesn’t deserve your sympathy. He should’ve engaged his brain before he went berserk. Who knows, time in the cells might knock some sense into him. I need to find Beth – preferably alive – and I don’t need his hateful rage in the car while I do it.’

  ‘Don’t give up, Kate.’

  ‘Not while I’m still breathing.’ She paused. ‘Othello sufferers injure and kill spouses they consider unfaithful, right?’

  ‘Or make their lives hell.’

  ‘How dangerous are they in relation to those they perceive to be their partner’s lover?’

  ‘I can’t answer that.’

  ‘Give it your best shot. I need your help.’

  ‘I don’t want to rattle you.’

  ‘Then don’t.’

  ‘Collins is dangerous—’

  ‘That much I know.’

  ‘His convictions were all against women. That’s why I didn’t think he was responsible for the hanging. I’m sorry, I should’ve checked into it more thoroughly. Going on leave is no excuse.’

  ‘No, it isn’t.’ Kate didn’t forgive her. ‘He wasn’t only a risk to Beth, was he?’

  ‘What are you asking?’

  ‘Given the right trigger, might he have killed Elliott?’

  ‘It’s impossible to tell. I’ve read of cases where patients have killed a partner and then committed suicide. There’ll be other permutations.’

  ‘Last question: any idea where he might take her?’

  ‘That’s even more difficult. If he murdered Elliott and abducted Beth, he’s out of control. He might take her to the gibbet just to rub it in.’

  It was a sobering thought.

  Kate said she had to run and told Jo to enjoy New York.

  70

  With every available police vehicle keeping observations for Beth’s car, Kate sat in her Audi waiting for news, Hank by her side. As time ticked by they hardly spoke. Words seemed inadequate. They were too tired and too wired to properly convey how they were feeling. Collins had been in their custody. Now he was God knows where, doing God knows what to Beth Casey. The situation was as depressing as it was grim.

  The heels of Beth’s hands hurt. They were scuffed and bleeding where Collins had thrown her out of her mother’s house so violently she’d fallen heavily onto the thin strip of tarmac outside her front door. She’d never been so terrified. Not even when Gardner attacked her in the cut that night. At least then, there was a possible escape route.

  Ten minutes ago, Collins had forced his way into her home, high on drugs and swigging vodka, screaming obscenities, eyes filled with rage. As he dragged her through the front door by her hair, she’d pleaded with him to go back inside and talk.

  She was wasting her breath.

  ‘Get in the car!’ he’d yelled.

  When she didn’t move, he’d opened the door. Shoving her in the back seat, he got in and started the car. He’d been in a bad way when they first met, she knew that, but he was much worse now. He’d promised he wasn’t using any more. Had sworn he was clean. Stupidly, she’d believed him. Now she could see he was switched wrong, a hothead knocking booze back like there was no tomorrow.

  Beth wished she’d heeded Kate Daniels’ advice – and, to a lesser extent, her father’s. She didn’t want to believe that Collins was a thug who’d glassed his ex, but it was probably true. She wondered what it must’ve been like to face him at his worst, knowing deep down that she was about to do the same. Kate and her father had been right to dissuade her from having anything to do with him.

  Even his mother had tried . . .

  If only she had listened.

  Having witnessed her abduction, one o
f her neighbours had come flying out of his house. Despite his age, around sixty, he’d sprinted towards them in order to intervene. Not quickly enough. Before he’d managed to reach them, Collins slammed his foot down, heading straight for him, forcing the man to dive onto the village green to avoid being knocked over. Through the back window, Beth had watched him get smaller. She’d never forget the look of shock on his face.

  Kate glanced out of the window at the gibbet where police tape flapped in the breeze, sealing off the ghoulish monument to its many visitors. It was deathly quiet, a beautiful afternoon, though she hardy noticed the sunshine. In her head, there was an early morning mist, Elliott’s body suspended on a length of mildewed rope she doubted she’d ever find the provenance of. For days, the lad had been lying in the morgue, cold and alone, just as she’d found him last Sunday morning. She hadn’t yet managed to lay him in a warm place and cover him up.

  With Hank’s help she would.

  The priority now was finding Beth. Neither detective, nor any other in the Murder Investigation Team or the wider force, could bear the thought of anything bad happening to her. Atkins might not be their favourite copper – and was hated by some – but they didn’t need reminding that his daughter was an extended member of the police family. The responsibility to find and protect her was overwhelming.

  A phone rang.

  Kate used the hands-free to answer.

  ‘It’s me. Any news?’ Jo would never forgive herself if anything happened to Beth.

  Kate wouldn’t either. ‘Not yet.’

  ‘You OK?’

  ‘I’ve been better.’

  ‘Is Hank with you?’

  ‘He is.’

  Kate glanced again at the gibbet, wondering if Beth would survive at the hands of a madman. Collins was on the edge, unpredictable and dangerous. There was no telling what such a disturbed individual might be capable of. Kate had two lives to save, not one. That unborn baby was a person too. ‘Have a nice break, Jo. I’ve gotta go.’

  ‘That was a bit abrupt,’ Hank said as Kate hung up.

  He was still trying to play happy families. He was every bit as shattered as she was over Jo’s decision to take off without her. Except Kate had come to terms with it better than he had. She intended to concentrate on her own life from now on. As the cliché so aptly put it: there was no point trying to flog a dead horse.

  ‘I need to keep this phone free,’ she said.

  He thought twice about pushing her on it and changed the subject. ‘How long are we going to wait?’ he asked.

  ‘As long as it takes.’

  He turned in his seat to face her. ‘He’s not going to show, Kate. Not here. He’s going to make a run for it and get as far away as he can get. He’ll make for major routes, north or south.’

  Kate didn’t entirely disagree with Hank’s assessment. ‘I don’t care if we have to stay all night. We’re not leaving. Collins may be incapable of rational thought. Jo thinks he might come here to torment Beth. That’s good enough for me. We’re going to sit it out until we have more information, a sighting at least. Whatever happens, I don’t want to find a pregnant teenager hanging here in two days’ time.’ It was a sobering thought and he let it go.

  71

  Collins was out of breath, bent double with his hands on his knees after hauling Beth out of her car and into his. She was like all the crazy bitches he’d ever known. More trouble than they were worth. Prepared to fuck around but not take the consequences. He spat on the ground, got in and sped away. He wasn’t finished with her yet.

  ‘Chris, stop! Think of the baby.’

  ‘I’m not the one just overdosed.’ He threw a black look over his shoulder, paying no attention to the road ahead. ‘You think I care about his bastard?’

  ‘It’s not Elliott’s,’ Beth cried. ‘I told you.’

  ‘You’re a liar!’

  ‘No, it’s yours. You’ve got to listen to me—’

  ‘Like I listened to him, you mean? He begged me not to do it. Wept like a girl.’ Collins turned his head away, chuckling to himself. ‘Even said he was a poof, the lying git. Except I wasn’t born yesterday—’

  ‘He was telling the truth,’ Beth sobbed.

  Collins shot round a bend, fighting to keep his focus on the rear-view mirror. Beth’s eyes flew to the nearside wing mirror, no doubt looking for her father, that head-fuck Daniels, or any other copper. Beth was hysterical. Too bad: this was all her fault. Sick of her whingeing, he switched on the radio and turned the volume as high as it would go to block out her hysterics. Rap music. He loved a bit of rap.

  ‘Control to Seven-Eight-Two-Four: Target vehicle found in a disused barn. Eyewitness claims to have seen it drive in. One male. One female. Arguing. The girl was screaming to be let out. Minutes later, they left in a light-blue Ford. No registration number given.’

  ‘That’s received.’ Kate glanced at Hank. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a step in the right direction, confirmation that Beth was alive at least. ‘Control, have my lads check the system for any associates of Collins with blue cars and let me know what gives. Any uniform personnel at the barn yet?’

  ‘Affirmative. No one inside the target vehicle, but there was evidence of drug use. They found a quad bike covered with a tarpaulin at the same location—’

  ‘Yes!’ Hank punched the air.

  Kate was equally excited. ‘Preserve the scene, Control.’

  ‘They also found a ring in the back seat, ma’am. It’s been identified by DCI Atkins as belonging to his daughter. We’ve requested the police helicopter.’

  ‘Where exactly was the vehicle found?’

  ‘Elishaw, just north of where the A68/A696 converge.’

  It wasn’t far away.

  ‘Understood. Maintaining position and standing by.’ Kate had a nervous feeling at the pit of her stomach. She clasped her hands together, elbows on the steering wheel. Beth had left them a clue. Good girl. With a bit of luck, she might leave more. But where the hell was she?

  Beth pressed her body up against the car door, as far away as she could get from Collins, her body lurching from side to side as he raced down the road, ignoring her pleas to pull over and talk – at least slow down. It had been several minutes since they left Elishaw, even longer since he’d driven at her neighbour in Elsdon.

  He’d have called the law by now . . .

  So where were they?’

  ‘Please stop,’ she begged. ‘I’m going to be sick.’

  Collins kept on driving as if he hadn’t heard her. Blind rage drove him on. Beth had seen it before, the night her father pushed her mum down the stairs when she was a kid. Her parents hadn’t seen her standing at her bedroom door, woken by an argument that had spilled out of their room and onto the landing. Her mother had locked herself in the bathroom to get away from him. But he was as mad as hell and wouldn’t leave it alone.

  To the outside world, theirs was just another domestic dispute between two idiots who’d chosen badly and married the wrong people. Beth had grown up knowing that her mother could so easily have been one of those statistics she’d heard about on TV, murdered by an out-of-control spouse.

  Was that where she was heading too?

  Kate was right: abusive partners didn’t stop.

  Panicking, Beth saw her future in Technicolor. It was short, a deep shade of red seeping into the picture. She tried the door, prepared to fling herself from the moving car at sixty miles an hour. A crazy act, but she wanted rid of Collins at any cost. The door was locked.

  Kate’s radio crackled into life: ‘Control to 7824. Pale-blue Ford Focus. Registration mark: November-Charlie-Five-Two-Papa-Delta-Romeo spotted by another road user travelling south on the A68. Driver, plus one. Vehicle was being driven erratically, according to the witness. Stand by.’

  To hell with that, she thought. ‘Control, does anyone on the ground have the eyeball?’

  ‘Negative. You’re the nearest car available. Units en route to your location from
Byrness – ETA imminent – and dispatched from other points close to your location. Traffic car now travelling northwest on the A696.’

  ‘Tell them all to get a move on! We can’t let him reach a built-up area.’

  Oh God! The car careered across the road. Collins was laughing one minute, weeping the next. Screaming at Beth for being unfaithful, even though she swore she’d never been. He was way worse than she’d ever seen him. On the day she told him of Gardner’s behaviour in the cut and Elliott coming to her rescue, he’d changed. In hindsight, she now recognized its significance. It was a turning point: what had begun with the occasional dig turned into out-and-out condemnation. His bitterness had escalated in recent weeks, a different lad emerging – like someone had flicked a switch.

  His reaction to the assault was wholly unexpected, if not downright weird, a tone of distrust permeating every syllable. What do you mean, assaulted? He wasn’t upset, he was furious. More than furious – and not with Gardner. Instead of offering support, he’d launched a ferocious attack on her, firing a succession of questions she didn’t want to answer. No, not questions. Allegations. That’s what they were . . .

  What were you even doing in the cut? Who were you meeting? How come Elliott was there? And now Collins was goading her all over again, trying to trick her into submission. Beth was damned if she’d cough to something that wasn’t true.

  ‘You were screwing him,’ he yelled.

  ‘No, I swear I wasn’t.’

  ‘Don’t lie to me!’ He took a corner at high speed. ‘I’m not blind or deaf. I’ve seen the looks between you. I’ve clocked the whispering behind my back. What do you think I am, stupid? I enjoyed seeing him swing for it anyway.’

  72

  Kate heard the panda car before she could see it. It flew over the brow of the hill and pulled into the lay-by behind her, sending a huge plume of dust high in the air. She didn’t stop to chat, just engaged first gear and took off.

  For a moment, there was a pause in communication.

  Seconds later, Control came on the line. ‘India 99 is in the air, ma’am. They’ve swept the major routes: A68/A696. No sign. Going round again.’