[Lorne Simpkins 01.0] Cruel Justice

by M A Comley

  “I’d like that very much, ma’am. I know my fuse is a tad short at times, and I apologise for that.”

  Lorne raised her hand. “Enough said. Welcome aboard, Molly.” She held out her hand, and her colleague accepted it with gusto.

  “Thank you, ma’am, glad to be back. Shall I take John with me to question the woman at the agency?”

  “Why not? Pete and I will reverse roles with the pair of you. It should be fun.” She prepared herself for an ear-bashing from Pete. “Let me know how you get on.”

  Lorne sat back in her chair and exhaled a huge sigh of relief. It felt good to sort out at least one relationship that had gone sour, especially with the new chief arriving in a few days.

  “The guy was approximately five foot nine, according to the scientific tests I’ve just carried out,” Pete proudly announced, when he re-entered the room.

  “Great. Now all we have to do is find a suspect that height, and the case will be solved. Easy, this police work, ain’t it?” Lorne retorted sarcastically.

  “Who’s rubbed you up the wrong way?” Pete asked, his enthusiasm crushed.

  “Sorry, Pete, you didn’t deserve that. I’ve sent the others out for the day. That leaves you and me answering the phones and going through this list I’ve prepared.”

  “Suits me. I’ll just grab us a couple of sandwiches from the canteen first, shall I?”

  “Always thinking of your stomach. What am I going to do with you? Make mine a tuna and mayo.”

  He ignored her comment and set off.

  Lorne sat at Tracy’s desk, still adding to her list when the phone rang. “DI Simpkins speaking, can I help you?”

  Initially she was greeted by silence, then she heard a man’s muffled voice in the background. “Say it. Tell her.”

  “Hello, who is this?” Lorne asked. She heard a slap, and a woman’s pitiful whimper.

  The phone went dead.

  “Hello? Hello?” Lorne sat holding the receiver, with the sickening realisation that the caller had been the killer. From the sound of it, he’d captured his fourth victim. Shit! How long did they have before she ended up like the others?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Lorne sprang into action, picked up the phone, and ordered twenty-four-hour surveillance at the allotment, the only place connecting at least two of the victims. Then she ordered a trace to be set up on all incoming phone lines in the incident room. Had the killer known that she would be at the station when he’d made the call? Was he watching her? She ran to the window. To the left was a concrete tower block and to the right nothing but waste ground. You’re being paranoid, Lorne.

  Pete barged into the room, making her jump. “One tuna and mayo as requested. What’s up, boss?”

  “He’s just made contact. He’s got another hostage.”

  “Shit. What did he say?” Pete tossed the two sandwiches onto his desk.

  “That’s just it. He didn’t say anything. Not to me, anyway. He was threatening a woman, to force her to talk, but she was too scared to speak. He slapped her and put the phone down.”

  “How did he know you were here?”

  “I don’t know. Get the team back in here. I’ve ordered traces on all lines and surveillance at the allotment. If he can’t go there to get rid of the body, it might delay the woman’s death a bit longer, if that’s where he kills them.”

  “We don’t know that yet, do we? I’m gonna ring Arnaud and see if he can rush the results of the fingerprints through,” Pete said.

  “Okay, you do that while I haul the team back in.” Lorne’s heart pounded.

  The four sergeants promptly arrived back. Lorne noticed Molly wearing a scowl. She thought she owed the woman an apology for dragging her back to the station.

  Appreciating Lorne’s explanation, Molly asked, “What can I do?”

  “You can help the technical bods when they arrive. Tracy, Mitch, I want a twenty-four-hour surveillance set up at the allotment. Uniforms are on their way over there now. Do you fancy doing the nightshift?”

  “Sure, okay by me,” Mitch said. “What about you, Tracy?”

  “I’ll have to call home first, but sounds fine to me.”

  “Right that’s one less thing to worry about. While you’re in the office, go over the sex offenders list, see if anything recent pops up, and pull the fingerprint files on them all. Pete’s just rung Arnaud to hurry along the prints found at the scenes. As soon as they’re in, we can match them with what you come up with; and we’ll be on our way, hopefully. John, look into Doreen’s background. She was a head teacher. Find out where.”

  Lorne’s stomach was complaining about it being way past lunchtime. “Pete, come on. We’ll grab a bite to eat.”

  He didn’t need telling twice. He grinned, picking up the two packets of sandwiches he’d bought earlier, and followed her along the hall into the conference room. “What a bloody morning.”

  “Trouble is, we’ve got too many leads to follow up at the moment. That call has put a spanner in the works.” Lorne massaged her temples.

  “Headache?”

  “No thanks, Pete. I’ve already got one,” she replied and smirked.

  “Nice to see you ain’t lost your sense of humour.”

  “God knows how. I don’t mind telling you, I was more freaked out about the call than unwrapping the head this morning.”

  “That’s because you feel helpless. You know somethin’ is gonna happen, and you can do fuck all about it. But it’s not just the case that’s bugging you, is it?” He downed a bite of his sandwich.

  “You can be extremely perceptive at times, partner.” Lorne gave him a weary smile.

  “I’d like to agree with you, but I’d be lying. I heard you and Tom arguing till the small hours.”

  “I’m sorry if we kept you awake. I don’t know what’s going on with him at the moment. He seems to pick a fight over the slightest thing.”

  “Now, don’t go off the handle at me.” Pete eyed her warily. “Do you think he might be having an affair?”

  “We’re talking about Tom here, Pete.” She laughed, but her smile faded as his words sank in. “Has he said something to you?”

  “Why the hell would he tell me?”

  “What made you say it, then?”

  “You said he’d changed.” He shrugged. “All the women’s magazines tell you that’s what happens when a bloke’s got something to hide.”

  “Since when did you start reading women’s magazines? I think you’re wrong. He has changed a little over the last few months, but I put it down to Charlie pissing him off. She’s just coming up to her teens and starting to show a rebellious streak. Sometimes I’m glad overtime keeps me away from home. Oops, shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Why do ya think I’ve never settled down and had kids? Have you tried talking to him?”

  “Yeah, every chance I get. He refuses to open up. We’ll get through it; we always do. That’s not the only thing that’s bugging me though. There’s something else I’ve got to tell you, but you need to promise me you won’t say anything to the others. I can’t keep it a secret any longer.”

  “When’s it due?”

  “I’m not pregnant, you idiot.” She scoffed at the thought. “The chief told me last week he’s leaving.”

  “When?”

  “When I went to see him about our gruesome package this morning, he told me the new chief will be starting next Monday.” Lorne walked over to the water tank in the corner. She thought a drink would help shift the sudden lump that had appeared in her throat.

  “Did he say who his replacement is gonna be?”

  Lorne sensed her partner wasn’t overly concerned by the news. As far as he was concerned, Lorne was his next in command. Any flack coming from the new chief would be aimed at her first. “He couldn’t give me a name. Looks like it’ll be an outsider.”

  “So you’re worried, is that it?”

  “I wouldn’t say I’m worried, exactly—concerned, ma
ybe. The chief and I have a good rapport. I doubt I’ll get that with anyone else. It’s like me telling you that I’m getting a new partner. How would you feel?”

  “Pleased. Delighted. I’d be dancing around, jumping for joy.”

  Lorne felt hurt.

  Pete chuckled and hastily reassured her, “I’m kiddin’. I understand completely, but it’s no good getting yourself in a tizzy about it. Wait till Monday. See who turns up, eh? Then start panicking.”

  “You’re right, of course. Enough of this doom and gloom. We’ll finish our lunch and then see what we can get out of this taxi firm.”

  “Do you mind if I chalk that one up? It’s not often you admit I’m right about somethin’.”

  She poked her tongue out at him, and they both tucked into their sandwiches.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “You should’ve spoken to the nice detective when I told you to. Now I’ll have to punish you.” The man’s menacing black eyes penetrated the woman’s core.

  “I’m sorry. I was so scared. Call her back. I promise I’ll talk to her this time. I’ll say anything you want me to say, do anything you want me to do. Please don’t hurt me. I’m begging you.” The woman cowered away from him. She shivered from the cold of the cell and her mounting fear. Her legs and arms throbbed with pain from the beatings he’d given her. She’d been stripped naked, but thankfully he hadn’t raped her—yet. Maybe her constant prayers had saved her from that.

  “She’s no use to us. Kill her,” his accomplice said, emerging from the shadows.

  The naked woman cried and wrapped her arms tightly around her legs. She sat on the cold floor of the cell and rocked back and forth. “Please don’t kill me. Why are you doing this? Tell me who you are, please?”

  “Ah, she doesn’t remember us. Just like the other one. Make her remember. Punish her till she can beg no more.” The woman lunged forwards and kicked the prisoner in the leg, adding to her bruises.

  The man grabbed his demented accomplice, picked her up, and swung her around. “Leave us for a minute. Go calm down. I need this one to do some work before I’m finished with her.”

  The man waited while his accomplice trudged up the ladder, which creaked under her weight, before he attacked the prisoner with his belt.

  Lorne and Pete were just passing through the incident room when the call came in.

  “Just a minute.” Mitch clicked his fingers to gain the team’s attention. The room fell silent, and Lorne grabbed the nearest phone. Mitch transferred the call to her extension, and the trace began.

  “This is DI Simpkins. Who is this?”

  Again, Lorne heard a woman whimpering. Another pitiful yelp followed, then the woman said softly, “He—he wants to know—if you received the package?”

  “I did. Has he hurt you?”

  The woman’s voice trembled when she spoke. “I’m okay. They’re treating me well.”

  They. Did she just say they? The sound of a slap on flesh came through the phone and made Lorne wince. Her heart went out to the woman. “What do they want?”

  “She says, ‘What do you want?’”

  Silence.

  Then the woman said, “He wants—retribution.”

  Colin, tracing the call, held up two fingers.

  Two more minutes, and we’ll have the bastard. “Retribution for what?”

  “She wants to know for what?” The terrified woman’s voice shook as she was forced to act as a go-between for the police and her kidnappers.

  “For those they’ve failed and keep failing,” came the reply, before the line went dead.

  “Don’t go! Tell us where you are?” Lorne shouted into the mouthpiece, her gaze seeking out the colleague tracing the call. Colin shook his head in regret.

  “Thirty bloody seconds. Why couldn’t I keep her talking for thirty seconds more?” Lorne asked Pete, thumping her clenched fist on the desk.

  “He’s not stupid. He must’ve realised we’d be tracing the call. Don’t go blaming yourself, boss. At least we know the woman’s still alive.”

  “Yeah, but for how long? She said they were treating her well. We’re looking for more than one suspect here.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  As they drove through the town centre, Lorne found it hard not to glance down every alleyway, every turning they passed.

  “I’d like to get to Toni’s Taxis in one piece, if that’s all right with you, boss.” Pete sounded frustrated.

  “You will. We’ve got to keep our eyes open.”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought there was two of us in this car. One who’s driving—that’d be you—and the other who’s constantly on the lookout—well, that’d be me. If you want to swap roles, be my guest, but don’t feel as though you have to carry out both jobs on my account, please.”

  Lorne nearly ran a cyclist off the road.

  Pete grabbed the steering wheel. “Shit, that was close. What’s it to be, boss? You want to concentrate on the driving, or do ya wanna swap?”

  “I am concentrating. The idiot shouldn’t be on the road anyway. It’s about time the council introduced bus and cycle lanes around here.”

  “Take the next turning on the right, and the taxi office is halfway down on the left.” Pete shook his head.

  The taxi firm was located in the worst part of town, known to the locals as ‘Squatterland’, with prostitution and drugs part of daily life.

  They entered the office, finding the vile stench of urine and vomit difficult to ignore.

  “Ain’t got nothin’ for at least half an hour.” The overweight controller dunked her chocolate chip biscuit into a cup of dark liquid that was either well-stewed tea or very strong coffee.

  Lorne glanced around and cringed. How the hell someone could work an eight-hour shift in that godforsaken place was beyond her.

  “We don’t want a taxi. Is the manager around?”

  “Don’t be worrying about the mess. You kinda get used to it. She’s out on a job.”

  “Is she likely to be long?” Pete asked, in the obnoxious tone he tended to use when he didn’t fancy staying in a place for long.

  “I can give her a shout if you like. Who wants her?”

  The pair flashed their warrant cards. Lorne couldn’t tell if the woman was squinting because she needed glasses or scowling at them for being cops.

  “Toni, are ya gonna be long?” the woman called through the mic in front of her.

  A woman’s angry voice came back over the airwaves. “I’ll be as long as I need to be. Why?”

  “There’s a couple of cops, er…‌police officers, here to see you.”

  “I’ll be back in five.”

  “This place been open long?” Pete asked, showing his disgust at his surroundings.

  “About four years.” The woman appeared to let out a sigh of relief when the phone rang. “Toni’s Taxis…‌Yeah…‌It’ll be about half an hour.…‌Please yourself.” She slammed down the phone and scribbled through what she’d already written on the docket. “He couldn’t wait, wanted it yesterday.”

  The three of them remained silent until Toni returned.

  Lorne wasn’t expecting the stunning redhead who walked through the door. It was hard to imagine the aggressive voice they’d heard earlier coming from the slight, almost fragile-looking woman.

  Toni wore white skin-tight jeans and a low cut blue top that accentuated her curves. “What’s the urgency?”

  Lorne introduced Pete and herself. “We’re investigating a murder. Four days ago, Kim Charlton—who I believe was a regular punter of yours—arranged for a taxi to pick her up from a friend’s house. For some reason, your driver overlooked her. After waiting thirty minutes, she decided to walk home. The problem is, she didn’t make it. We’d like to talk to the driver who should’ve picked her up, if that’s possible?”

  “Is he a suspect?”

  “We’d just like to have a word with him. Do you know who the driver was?”

 
; “Pull out the dockets for last Thursday, will you, Mary?”

  The fat controller grunted her disapproval of having to move from her comfortable chair. She reached up to the top shelf of the unit on the back wall and pulled down a box-file marked September. She waddled back to her desk and fell into her chair, looking and sounding exhausted. She rifled through the dockets and handed the relevant one to her boss.

  “Get Wacko on the radio, Mary. Call him in for a break.”

  The controller had already put across the airwaves that the police were around, so if the guy had nothing to hide, he’d come in. If, however, he chose to do a runner, they’d know straight off he was guilty of something.

  “How many drivers were working that shift?” Pete walked over and studied the planner on the wall.

  “It was a busy evening, I think eight of the ten drivers worked that night. The other two covered the day shift.”

  “Got a list of names and addresses of all your drivers, just in case?”

  “In case what? I’m not sure I’m with you, sergeant?”

  “Just in case we need to ask ’em all some questions. You know, to help us with our enquiries.”

  “I’ll supply it, but don’t go hassling my guys just for the sake of it. I don’t want them getting twitchy.”

  “Oh, and why might they get twitchy? You employ a lot of ex-cons or somethin’?” Pete said, eyeing Toni suspiciously.

  She shrugged. “Drivers are hard to find nowadays.”

  “So you turn to ex-cons to help you out?” Mystified, Lorne glanced around the office and caught the controller watching her. Something unnerved her about the way the woman studied her. Her stare was intense and went beyond the normal inquisitive eye you give someone you’ve just met.

  “They’ve done their time, Inspector. They’re entitled to a second chance in life, aren’t they?”

  “Depends what kind of crimes they’ve committed. I don’t suppose you know that kind of information, do you?”

  “Might do. It’s confidential. The council insists the drivers inform us on their application forms. It’s up to the council and the Criminal Records Bureau to say if they get the licence or not. So if you have any gripes, you should take it up with them, not me.”