by Jane Isaac
‘What?’
‘Tell me what happened when he was charged.’
When Beth stayed quiet, Olive reluctantly spoke up. ‘Everyone was shocked when he was charged. We had no idea that he…’ She swallowed, the words too unbearable to utter. ‘He has two sisters, they both live nearby, both have children of their own. Girls. They couldn’t bear to think of what he’d done. None of us could.’
The hum of a car engine filled the room as it passed nearby. ‘I’ll never forget the night he was arrested,’ Olive continued, a faraway look on her face. ‘He phoned me from the police station, told me it was all a mistake. I went down there, pleaded with them to let him go. Even when they charged him, he told me he was innocent and I believed him. I couldn’t imagine he could be involved in something so horrid.’ A single tear escaped and trickled down her cheek. ‘I was in court every day of the trial, listened to the evidence from those young girls about how he’d lied about his age and lured them to a hotel.’ Her voice splintered. ‘It was too much, even for me.’ She flicked away another tear. ‘When he was convicted I ignored his phone calls, his letters. Eventually he stopped writing.’
‘When did you start speaking again?’
‘He wrote to me a year before his release. I still have the letter somewhere.’ She gave a vague glance towards a sideboard at the side of the room. ‘Finally, he admitted what he’d done. He said he’d been sick, out of his mind, but he was getting help. He sounded sorry, said he wanted to put the past behind him. It took a lot of soul-searching, but… he’s my firstborn. So, I visited him.’ Another tear trickled down the side of her nose. ‘He seemed lost. I’m his mother. It’s my job to make him better if I can. His sisters refused to have anything to do with him, but I continued to visit.’
‘How had he been since his release?’
‘Okay. He couldn’t get work, but he got his own place and was trying to turn things around.’
‘What about friends? Was there anyone else he spoke about, from prison maybe?’
‘No. No one contacted him as far as I know. Well, not apart from the press. They badgered us all during the trial, and afterwards. But he left prison quietly, got a place down the road in Far Cotton. No one knows him there. The rest of our family still refuse to see him, they avoid the house when he visits.’
‘How was his mood when you saw him on Wednesday?’
‘As I said, same as usual.’
‘What did you talk about?’
‘The television. He spent a lot of time inside, watched all the soaps. He was interested in birds too, liked to watch them in the garden here.’ She raised a finger, pointed. ‘He bought me that bird feeder.’
‘I understand Harry grew up in Corby?’
Olive scrunched her eyes. ‘Yes, we lived on the Gainsborough Road until the late 1990s. When his dad died we moved here, to be closer to my mum. She’s long gone now, of course.’
‘Did Harry ever mention a children’s home called Whitefield?’
‘I don’t think so. Why?’
‘Just a line of inquiry,’ Beth said dismissively.
‘Harry wasn’t one for friends. Or girlfriends either for that matter. Which is one of the reasons why the court case came as such a shock. He was always happier out walking, watching his birds, or driving his taxi.’
‘He drove a taxi?’
‘Yes, a minicab. That was before he went to prison, of course.’
Beth jotted down the details of the firm he worked for. ‘What about a Richard Moss, or Stuart Ingram? Did he mention either of those names?’
Olive looked taken aback. ‘They were both killed recently, weren’t they?’ She swallowed, her face clouded. ‘I don’t remember him mentioning them. Are you saying he was killed by the same people?’
‘We’re not sure at present.’ Beth passed across her card. ‘If you think of anything else, please do give me a call.’
30
There was something comforting about a regular haunt.
Beth turned into the service station and parked up beside a pump. It wasn’t only the last fill-up point before she hit the country roads towards home, they also sold her favourite brand of coffee, a godsend to keep her brain focused for the final stretch of her journey after a long shift.
An owl hooted as she climbed out of the car. The night sky was thick, devoid of stars. She connected the hose to her car, listened to the drone of fuel gushing in. Apart from a lorry parked up at the far side, the forecourt was empty. Not surprising at 10 p.m. on a Monday evening when the majority of folk were winding down.
Back at the office earlier, colleagues gained a few breakthroughs with residents of Whitefield’s, but those they did trace had moved away from the area, and all appeared to have alibis for the dates and times of the murders. The waiflike image of Jess Adams, the teenager destined to be forever young, was branded on Beth’s brain. What happened to make her take her own life on the eve of her sixteenth birthday? The residents they’d spoken to remembered the incident and were sympathetic, yet no one claimed to be close to Jess. Nobody, so far, knew her particularly well. Beth had chased the file with social services and sent another email to Jess’s social worker, desperately hoping she’d reply soon.
The minicab firm Underwood worked for in Corby in the 1990s had been sold on and they had no staff who remembered Underwood, or who knew Moss or Ingram. There had to be a link somewhere, but, so far, apart from the fact that Underwood lived only a few streets away from Moss in the 1990s, she couldn’t find a connection. Three victims… Ingram was killed from a distance in a hit and run; the killer didn’t have to get his hands dirty. He got closer with Moss who was tortured and strangled. But the cable ties, the torture and the blood bath with the latest victim showed the killer was becoming more confident, more brutal. Moss’s note was hidden, yet Underwood’s was stuffed in his mouth. The killer wanted them to find it faster, but why? Since the only connection they appeared to share was that at least two of the adults were connected to the children’s home, Freeman had taken the unusual step of placing a police guard on Sarah Carpenter, the former owner, in case she was also a target. They needed to find the killer and quick, before he had the chance to strike again.
A car drove in as she finished up, followed by another. Beth replaced the hose in the holder, grabbed her bag off the passenger seat and crossed the tarmac. As soon as she entered the shop her senses were filled with the comforting aroma of coffee. The female assistant behind the counter didn’t look up from her magazine. Beth headed for the self-service machine in the corner, only to be disappointed. It was out of cups.
The shop door squealed on its hinges as a pair of teenagers entered and perused the aisles.
Beth alerted the assistant to the lack of cups, and the woman went out back to search for some. More cars turned onto the forecourt. She pulled out her phone, checked her text messages. The team delving into the children’s home contacts had been split in two in the incident room, working shifts around the clock to trace the residents. As soon as anyone had a strong lead, she’d receive a message calling her back to the station. But her inbox was empty.
‘Oh no! Is it out of order?’
The voice behind her held a familiar local lilt. Beth spun around and came face to face with Phoebe Carter.
Phoebe stepped back, startled. She wore a black dress with a loose paisley scarf draped across her shoulders; her blonde hair was fastened back neatly into a French plait. The corner of her mouth quivered.
‘Hi,’ Beth said. She gestured towards the machine. ‘They’re out of cups. Someone’s gone to see if there are any more out the back.’
Phoebe gave a backwards nod of acknowledgement and shifted awkwardly. The door squealed again as the teenagers left. The shop was now completely empty.
‘How are you doing?’ Beth asked.
‘We’re okay. Thank you.’ Phoebe glanced back at the aisles, doing her best to avoid eye contact.
The shop assistant reappeared with a pile
of cups and set about restocking the machine. When she’d finished Beth selected her espresso. The water was trickling into her cup when the door sounded again.
‘You’ve been ages.’
Beth lifted her cup off the machine and turned, this time to face Jason Carter. The knot of his tie was loosened but he was dressed smartly under his long overcoat. They’d clearly been out somewhere together.
He switched from one woman to another suspiciously. ‘What’s going on?’
Phoebe looked at him blankly.
‘The machine was out of cups,’ Beth said. ‘We had to wait for it to be restocked.’
He glowered at Beth.
‘Well, I’d better pay for this now I have it. Good to see you,’ Beth said to Phoebe and moved off towards the counter.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jason lean into Phoebe and whisper in her ear. Phoebe shook her head and frowned. They both watched Beth pay for her coffee and petrol and wander out.
The chance meeting fluttered around her mind as Beth drove down the Brixworth Village bypass on her way home. It was always possible they might run into each other; the service station was also on Phoebe and Jason’s route back if they were coming out of town. But Jason appeared to be distinctly uncomfortable at her speaking with Phoebe alone, and she couldn’t help wondering why.
31
A dull ache pulsed Beth’s temple as she pulled off the main drag later that evening and into Mawsley Village. Her sister’s house was in darkness when she passed, the driveway empty. Beth’s head started to thump. Streetlights flickered against the wet tarmac as she steered into the heart of the village, towards the shop. She needed to pick up something to ease the pain.
She cruised around the bends and swerved, twisting her steering wheel to avoid a woman in the road. The brakes squeaked in protest. Beth heard a scream as she jumped out of the car. A van was parked at the side of the road. The woman appeared to be screaming at someone having a scuffle behind it. Beth ran towards the incident, horrified.
It was Eden.
‘What happened?’ she called to her sister.
Eden looked distraught. ‘Get them to stop!’ she said to Beth.
As she rounded the van, she could see two men locked in combat. One of the men turned towards her. Too quick for her to recognise, more of a blur. The other man’s fist connected with his jaw and he dropped to the ground.
‘Stop! Police!’ Beth said.
The man on the ground grabbed his assailant and pulled him down. They rolled across the tarmac.
A front door opened nearby. The anxious face of an elderly woman appeared.
Beth grabbed the jacket of the man on top who was using his assailant as a punch bag, uttering inaudible words through gritted teeth. Blood splattered across the tarmac.
With all her might, Beth yanked him back. An elbow swung out. From behind her, Eden yelled, ‘Kyle, no!’ and Beth jerked back, just in time for the elbow to miss her chin. Pain shot through her shoulder as it hit.
‘I said, stop!’ she yelled.
The man below rolled to the side and held up a surrendering hand. He clutched his stomach.
Eden reached in and tugged Kyle. Beth pushed her sister away, yanked him back further and waited for his assailant to climb to his feet. The two men stood eyeing each other, Beth between them.
Kyle Thompson’s adversary wiped a stream of blood from his nose. At that moment, Beth recognised him. He was Kyle’s friend, the one she’d seen him with at the shop a few days earlier. The same one that met Jason Carter at the cafe.
‘What’s going on?’ She stared directly at Kyle.
‘Why don’t you ask him?’ Kyle’s nostrils flared. There was blood on his teeth.
She looked up at him. ‘Because I’m asking you.’
Kyle lifted his head and sneered at the man opposite him. ‘I think you should go.’
‘Wait a minute.’ Beth raised a hand, blocking his path.
Eden touched Beth’s forearm. ‘Please, Beth. Don’t…’
She glared at her sister, then back at both the men. ‘I should take you both in.’
‘Nothing happened. Right?’ Kyle’s eyes were glued to his opponent who nodded, spat blood and made off down the street. The door opposite squeaked to a close as the neighbour retreated. Kyle twisted his jaw from side to side, glanced at Beth askance. ‘Thanks.’
Beth gave him a hard stare and rubbed her shoulder. It crunched as she rolled it back.
‘Sorry about the shoulder.’
‘What happened back there?’
‘As I said, nothing.’
She stared at Eden, then back at Kyle. ‘You can’t have a scrap in the middle of the street and pretend that nothing happened.’
‘I’m sorry you got involved.’ He made for what she presumed was his house. ‘I’ve got an ice pack. We’ll put it on that shoulder before the bruising comes out.’
Eden made to follow, but Beth pulled her back. ‘I’m not going in there and neither are you,’ she said to her sister.
‘Please, Beth. Come in and we’ll explain.’
‘No.’
Kyle turned to Eden. His expression became soft, tender. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
She nodded.
‘It was a disagreement,’ he said to Beth. ‘Don’t be angry with her.’
Kyle’s feeble attempt to protect her sister, combined with his efforts to dismiss the fight, fuelled her anger further. ‘I’ll discuss this with my sister,’ she said.
He pressed a steady hand on Eden’s forearm before walking back into the house.
‘Beth, please,’ Eden implored. ‘You have to let me explain. It isn’t what you think.’
‘Not here.’
Beth guided her sister back to her Mini. She waited until Kyle disappeared before she said, ‘What are you doing, Eden?’
But instead of responding, Eden rounded on her. ‘Why didn’t you tell me he was living here?’ Beth opened her mouth to reply but Eden broke in again. ‘He told me he bumped into you, yet you didn’t mention it?’
Eden’s earlier phone call sprung to mind. Her tone hadn’t been right and now she knew why. She was fishing to see how much Beth knew about Kyle living nearby.
‘How did you find out?’
‘I saw him when I was walking back from the school after dropping Lily off this morning. Gave me quite a shock.’
‘And?’ Surely, she wouldn’t consider rekindling her relationship with Kyle when she needed to put Lily first.
‘And, nothing. We haven’t spoken in over a month. But I could hardly ignore him when I ran into him in the street, could I? He invited me in, we had coffee. His house is quite nice actually.’
‘I couldn’t give a damn what his house is like,’ Beth said. ‘You’re supposed to be keeping away from him, for Lily’s sake. Where is she tonight?’
‘She’s with her dad.’ The tut that escaped was barely audible. ‘I was being neighbourly. Anyway, it’s not as easy as that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He wants me back.’
Beth turned her eyes skyward. ‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this.’
‘It’s so hard. I wish people would give him a chance.’
‘Why? You know his history. And that’s not the half of it.’
‘Tell me the rest then. Go on.’
Beth’s voice dropped an octave. ‘I can’t do that.’
Eden might be aware of Kyle’s string of convictions, but she wasn’t party to the intelligence they received at the station daily. Intelligence that indicated Kyle, far from being a reformed character, was spreading his wings, moving up in the world of organised crime.
‘There’s something else,’ Eden said. ‘When we were together, we took photos, sent them to each other.’
‘What kind of photos?’
Eden hooked Beth’s gaze and pulled a face.
‘You have got to be kidding me!’
‘He promised to delete them when I ended it. Bu
t—’
‘But, what?’
‘You can never be certain these days, can you? I don’t think he’d ever do anything with them, but I have to be friendly with him, just in case.’
‘Has he threatened you with them?’
‘No, of course not. He’d never do that.’
‘Oh, Eden.’
A light flicked on in an upstairs room in Kyle’s house. Beth watched his silhouette move about through the thin curtains. What prompted her sister to leave her policeman husband to have an affair with a convicted criminal, she’d never know, but then Eden had always been drawn to the dark side, tempted by anything with an inherent risk.
‘Who was the other guy?’ she said eventually.
‘What other guy?’
‘The man he was knocking seven bells out of.’
‘Oh. His name’s Ian. They had a disagreement.’
‘I could see that. What was it about?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Oh, come on.’
‘I don’t. Honestly. Kyle invited me around for a glass of wine. Ian arrived unexpectedly. They spoke at the door for a few minutes and the next thing I know, they were out fighting in the street.’
‘What does Ian do for a living?’
‘He works in IT. Kyle said he’s a fixer.’
Beth recalled him arguing in the cafe with Jason Carter. He didn’t look as though he was advising him on a new computer program. And why would an IT professional be hanging out with Kyle Thompson? She raised a disbelieving brow.
‘What?’ Eden said. ‘Not all Kyle’s friends are dodgy, you know.’
‘Tell that to the neighbours.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘If he carries on like this, it won’t be long before they call the police. Which won’t help your custody case.’
Eden drew a ragged breath. ‘You’re not going to report this, are you?’
Beth blew out a long sigh. ‘I haven’t decided yet. But you need to stay away from him, Eden.’