Secrets of the Dead: A serial killer thriller that will have you hooked (Detective Robyn Carter crime thriller series Book 2)

by Carol Wyer

  ‘You know you should have waited, don’t you?’

  She nodded dumbly. It could have gone very badly wrong, especially if Bullock had been carrying a dangerous weapon. She had been foolhardy and she knew it.

  ‘Are you going to report me?’ she asked. ‘Please don’t. I should have known better. I got carried away with it. I really wanted to catch him. You know that feeling, don’t you? Please don’t tell anyone. I don’t want to blot my copybook.’

  Mitz shook his head. ‘No. I won’t tell anyone, even though I ought to. It’s partly my fault. I shouldn’t have asked you to take over.’

  ‘Thank you. I owe you. I won’t do anything like this again. And thanks for jumping on him. I thought he was going to knife me.’

  ‘He had no weapon. You were lucky. It could have been worse. You sure your nose it all right?’

  ‘I don’t think it’s broken. I inherited my dad’s nose. The Shamash family all have good, strong noses. Large but strong.’ She gave a half smile. Mitz picked up on her attempt at humour and returned the smile.

  Mitz walked around the side of the car and was about to climb in when she asked. ‘Mitz – your gran, how is she?’

  He shook his head sadly. ‘Granny Manju passed away an hour ago.’

  ‘Oh no. I’m so sorry. You should be with your family.’

  ‘I’ll see them tonight. I had to return to work. I shouldn’t have left you alone on the case. I’m a sergeant now and I have responsibilities here too.’

  She wanted to offer a word of comfort, but Mitz slid into the car, shut the door and was already calling the station. Bullock sat passively in the back seat. The fight had gone out of him. She hoped she hadn’t made any errors and that they’d got their man.

  Back at the station, Mitz organised an interview room. Peter Bullock was now quiet and compliant. When asked to turn out his pockets he acquiesced, placing coins, cigarettes, a lighter and a transparent plastic bag containing white powder on the table.

  ‘What’s this?’ asked Mitz, lifting it up and examining it in the light.

  ‘What d’ya think it is?’ His sharp, south London accent was a sharp contrast to the local accents of Staffordshire. ‘It’s why you were chasing me, innit? It’s Charlie, C, coke, cocaine.’ He sat back in his chair, eyes glowing fiercely. ‘Shouldn’t I have a brief if you’re gonna charge me?’

  Mitz shook the white powder and replaced it on the table. He took a deep breath. Anna glanced at him and felt her heart sink.

  ‘You ran away from, and assaulted, a police officer, Mr Bullock. That’s a serious offence. Why did you do that?’

  Bullock sneered. ‘I thought you were gonna do me for possession. I was coming back from the toilet block when she stopped me. I don’t know why I decided to leg it. I should’ve stood me ground and heard her through, but it was automatic to run. I grew up on a dodgy estate and we was forever pegging it when we spotted one of yours. I couldn’t help meself. I know what you lot can be like.’

  He folded his arms and glared at Mitz.

  ‘Mr Bullock, cocaine and assault to one side, we were trying to locate you to help with our enquiries regarding another matter.’

  Bullock’s face dropped. ‘Oh shit. It’s nuffin’ to do with the drugs?’

  Mitz shook his head. ‘No. We weren’t after you for having drugs. Unless you have a large quantity in your boat that you’d like to tell us about?’

  Bullock laughed. ‘You’re joking. This packet set me back enough. You can go check it out if you don’t believe me. I only have enough for me.’

  ‘We’re investigating an incident in Kings Bromley and wondered if you’d witnessed anything untoward. Mr Bullock, did you catch a bus from the bus stop at Kings Bromley yesterday morning at about ten fifteen, and get off near the marina at Bromley Hays?’

  ‘Yeah, I did. I’d been visiting me auntie. She lives in Kings Bromley. She’s coming up seventy and I thought I’d drop in and see her. I’ve only been in the area a couple of weeks. Lost me job last year and didn’t know what to do wiv meself, so I took me redundancy money, sold me house and bought a boat. Best decision I ever made. I’ve been all over the country. You meet some nice people on the canals. I’m headed to Nottingham next. I was going to leave last week but it’s nice at this marina – really peaceful. Thought I’d hang out here a bit longer than normal and enjoy the nature. I’ve dropped out of the rat race now. Don’t think I’ll ever go back. I don’t need much money to live on the boat, just enough for essentials.’ He shook the packet of cocaine and gave a wry smile.

  ‘I don’t suppose you noticed any abnormal activity while you were waiting at the bus stop, did you?’

  ‘What’cha mean “abnormal”?’

  ‘Anyone in a hurry, anyone looking shifty?’

  ‘Nah, it’s a really quiet village. I left me auntie’s at ten. She made me leave early in case the bus was early. It wasn’t early and I stood about like a right prat for fifteen minutes. There was no one else waiting at the stop. There were quite a few lorries going through the place. Shame really, cos they don’t half spoil it. All them little thatched cottages and bloomin’ big lorries chugging past, belching out fumes. Can’t say I saw anything odd. Hang on, there was one bloke who went into the pub car park. He was obviously late for the gym cos he was getting a wriggle on – running like. He was in a sweatshirt and tracksuit bottoms. Adidas, I think, judging by the white logo, or is that Nike? No, that’s a white tick. This was like a crown with the name under it. I always get mixed up with the labels. He was carrying one of them big sports bags. He got into a car cos I heard the door bang loudly and the engine start. Next thing, he drove past me and headed towards the A38.’

  ‘Did you get a look at his face?’

  ‘Nah. I wasn’t paying any attention to him. I was getting fed up of waiting for the bloody bus. I was thinking about walking it, to be honest.’

  ‘Have you any idea what make the car was, Mr Bullock?’

  ‘Now that I can help you with. It was a silver Fiat 500. It was on a 2014 plate.’

  ‘Can you be sure of that?’

  Bullock sat back looking more confident. ‘I certainly can. My aunt Jean has one just like it in white.’

  Thirty

  Alan Worth was an arrogant man who barely acknowledged Robyn as she was shown into the room by his housekeeper, a delightful Asian lady with shining black hair, clipped back with colourful butterfly slides. His study was a huge space with a polished oak floor, and covered with what she recognised as expensive rugs. Two abstract paintings of coloured geometric shapes hung on the walls. In the corner of the room stood a five-foot bronze sculpture of a naked woman dancing, one knee raised and both arms flung out in front of her. Two other erotic statuettes were on a bookcase that held only a few books and various other ornaments.

  She stood in front of a handcrafted mahogany desk that would not have looked out of place in a Victorian headmaster’s study or a lawyer’s office, and offered her hand.

  He shook it once. His handshake was limp and his palm damp. ‘How can I help, Detective Inspector Carter?’

  ‘It’s regarding Harriet.’

  He dropped back into his leather chair and observed her with heavy-lidded eyes. His hooked nose added to the impression of a bird of prey. ‘Harriet died four years ago.’ He fell silent, waiting for her to speak again.

  ‘I’m investigating a case that may be linked to her death.’

  He steepled his fingers together and stared at her. ‘In what way?’

  ‘I’m not sure at the moment, but I’d very much appreciate your cooperation.’

  A noise, somewhere between a hiss and a sigh, escaped his nostrils. ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘I’ve read the file on your wife’s death. I’d like to know some more details – you were going to sue the Bishtons who owned Bromley Hall, yet you didn’t take the case to court. I’d like to know why not and how much you settled for.’

  He glared at Robyn, who maintai
ned a steady gaze. ‘I don’t see how that’s any of your business.’

  ‘I appreciate that, Mr Worth, and I can assure you that any disclosure will not become public knowledge. However, I must ask you as it may have a bearing on our case.’

  ‘Again, I can’t see how that’s any of your business, and unless you explain why you need to know, I shall be showing you out.’

  ‘You’ll appreciate that we can’t discuss ongoing cases, sir. I am very much banking on your generosity of spirit, especially as it involves someone you know.’

  His eyes widened a fraction. ‘Who?’

  ‘Linda Upton.’

  Alan blinked several times. ‘Linda? What’s happened to her?’

  ‘She was found dead at her house. There was a piece about it in the Lichfield Times.’

  ‘I don’t bother with that rag. When did it happen?’

  ‘Yesterday morning.’ She studied his reaction to the news. He blinked again, before regaining his superior composure.

  ‘You’re suggesting she died in suspicious circumstances, aren’t you? I hope you don’t consider me a suspect. I was in a meeting all morning with my accountant dealing with tax returns. I have several witnesses too who saw me at lunch at the Olive Tree in Lichfield.’

  ‘As I said, sir, I was simply interested in learning how much the Bishtons paid out as compensation for the death of your wife, Harriet.’

  He rose suddenly and stalked to the door. ‘If I’m not a suspect, I’ll thank you to leave now. I have an appointment in a few minutes and I can’t help you any further in your enquiries.’

  She stood up and moved towards him. She had only one card left to play, and if Mulholland found out she was not adhering to police protocol in this matter, she would be in deep water. She would try to jolt him into talking to her. ‘You’ll appreciate, sir, that I am concerned about your safety.’

  He paused, hand on the doorknob. ‘You think I might be in danger?’

  ‘I don’t know. If you could answer my question, I’d be in a better position to make a judgement on that.’

  He sighed. ‘One and a half million. I was offered one and a half million by the Bishtons. I accepted it on the condition they shut down the spa. I wanted to make their lives difficult. I hoped it would ruin them. I hadn’t banked on them building a massive extension to the property afterwards and creating an even bigger spa. If I had, I’d have demanded far more than one and half million. By the time they’d decided to build it, I had no more leverage. After all, I had accepted the money and so I got on with my life.’ His head drooped, and for a moment he appeared more vulnerable. Then he pulled himself upright. ‘Do you think I’m in danger?’

  Robyn cast a look at the man, the haughty sneer back on his face. He had shown no emotion when he had learned Linda Upton was dead and was only concerned about himself. Although she now had the information she required, she knew her handling of the situation had been unethical. ‘I shall continue my investigations and certainly ensure you have police protection if I believe you are, sir. Thank you for your time.’

  Robyn strode out against the wind and drizzle that was now falling and threw herself into her car, glad to be out of the unwelcoming house. She had two missed calls. She picked up the messages. Both were from Mitz, warning her that Mulholland had asked for updates on the cases and that he and Anna had brought in their suspect only to learn he was not involved in the case. However, the last part of Mitz’s message gave Robyn the boost she needed. Their suspect, now turned witness, had identified a vehicle leaving Kings Bromley, and Mitz and Anna were now trying to locate it. She shut her eyes for a moment to visualise her whiteboard. It was beginning to look like they were on the scent of the killer at last. What she needed was to get one step ahead of him. She put her car into gear and gunned the throttle. She would work through the night if she had to. She wasn’t letting anyone else get hurt by this Lichfield Leopard.

  Thirty-One

  ‘You shouldn’t have,’ Harriet said. The bunch of brightly coloured flowers filled her arms.

  He gave a shy smile. ‘They’re not from me. They’re from Alfie. That’s why there are so many yellow flowers. That’s his favourite colour.’

  She laughed again. Alfie wagged his tail at the sound.

  ‘Do you want me to hold them for you while you exercise? I don’t want to stop your routine.’

  ‘It’s okay. I could do with a day off. I’ve been training every day for weeks. I’m doing a fun run on Saturday and I wanted to be fit enough. You’ve probably done me a favour. My muscles could do with a rest.’

  He beamed. ‘A fun run? I never thought running was fun.’

  Harriet’s smile was wide and reached her eyes. He thought he saw his reflection in them and was lost for a moment, until her voice roused him. ‘I was hopeless at running when I was younger. Last year, one of my friends got cancer and was terribly ill with the treatment. I wanted to do something to help raise awareness, so I started running and did a half marathon. I raised quite a bit of money, which encouraged me to keep it up, and now I do fun runs regularly.’

  ‘That’s inspirational. I expect your friend was very grateful.’

  ‘She was full of energy and spirit. Sadly she passed away all the same. The cancer was too aggressive. I now run in her name, and every penny I get goes towards research to help eradicate this dreadful disease.’

  There was such passion in Harriet’s voice that he wanted to hold her hand and comfort her, but it was too soon to display such affection. She didn’t know him well enough.

  ‘Look, if you aren’t going to run today, why don’t I take you for that coffee I owe you? Alfie can come too and sit outside the café. It’s a decent day so we can join him.’

  She turned her attention to the flowers, searching for a polite way to decline. He surreptitiously extracted a dog treat from his trouser pocket and, on cue, Alfie barked for it.

  ‘See, Alfie wants you to come. It’s only coffee, and I won’t bite. Neither will Alfie.’

  Her lips twitched into a half smile. ‘Okay. Seeing as you both asked so nicely.’

  They trundled to the café in town and he bought her a large latte. He treated Alfie to a piece of shortbread and made a fuss of him. He kept the conversation light and convinced her he was quite the historian, even though he’d got his facts from the Internet only the day before.

  ‘Did you know that Stowe Pool was once a fishery?’

  ‘I had no idea. I thought it was a large pond.’

  He laughed. ‘It actually used to be a mill pond many years ago. It’s been through many hands since then and it was only recently, in 1968, that it was transformed into this recreational area.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘Wow, you know some facts.’

  ‘I had to look into the history of Lichfield as part of the research for my lecture on cities in England.’

  Her eyebrows arched and she gestured with her spoon. ‘You’re a historian? I always imagine historians to be grey-haired and elderly. I was rubbish at history… and most subjects. I couldn’t wait to leave school. I didn’t enjoy it much. Now, however, I wish I’d paid more attention.’

  He gave her a smile. ‘It’s not for everyone.’

  ‘Where do you lecture?’ she asked.

  ‘Birmingham University, although I’m taking a sabbatical this year to write a book.’

  Her eyebrows rose higher still. Her mouth made a perfect-shaped ‘o’. ‘Even more impressive. What’s the book about? Lichfield?’

  He gave a half smile. ‘If I tell you, you won’t laugh, will you?’

  She shook her head and rested her forearms on the table, leaning closer to hear his response. He could almost feel her warm breath.

  ‘It’s a historical romance set during World War Two.’

  Her mouth dropped wide open. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, but I don’t tell many people. I’m writing it under a pen name.’

  She licked her spoon, and as he watched her pink tongue dart
in and out, he thought he might have a heart attack, such were the palpitations in his chest. Alfie spotted the spoon too and pawed at her. She leant over and patted him. ‘He’s a very friendly dog.’

  ‘He’s a rescue dog. I got him from a dogs’ home. I really intended to get a Labrador or something larger. I passed his cage first and stopped. He was a quivering wreck in the corner – just two large frightened eyes. As soon as I saw him, I knew I had to have him.’

  She threw him a kindly glance. ‘That’s lovely.’

  ‘He’d been maltreated. He was so thin you could see his ribcage, and his fur was in clumps – all matted and dirty. He’d been beaten regularly and he was frightened of people.’

  Alfie whined and gave her a paw again. Harriet had no idea Alfie was after food. He was always begging at home and Stacey spoilt him rotten. ‘He really likes you. He’s a good judge of character.’

  They chatted aimlessly about Lichfield and interests for a while. As soon as she had finished her drink, he thanked her again for finding Alfie and left her. She waved as he and the dog walked away. Once he was around the corner he permitted himself a grin. His new girlfriend was beautiful, delightful and very gullible.

  He drifted back to the present. He had been so lost in memories of his time with Harriet that he almost hadn’t heard the doorbell. It rang again – a lengthy peal – the sound of someone exasperated. He let it ring. He couldn’t be bothered to answer it. No doubt it was the neighbour wanting to complain about something.

  The ringing stopped and he shifted position on the couch, letting the pills work their magic as he drifted back into a semi-conscious state where he could be with his Harriet.

  Thirty-Two

  Robyn strode down the corridor to Mulholland’s office first thing Wednesday morning and rapped on the door. Louisa was bent over a document, deep furrows across her forehead, her eyes red-rimmed and moist. She sneezed suddenly several times before reaching for a box of tissues. Her voice was nasal, thick with mucus.