London Noir: A gripping crime suspense thriller (Kal Medi Book 2)

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London Noir: A gripping crime suspense thriller (Kal Medi Book 2) Page 13

by Ann Girdharry


  ‘I know it was horrific. The poor woman had been brutalised,’ Kal said. She made herself pause and not crowd in with questions.

  ‘While I was bending over Penny, someone came out of the bathroom. It was Sugar G.’

  Kal did a double take. ‘Sugar G? Are you sure? Did he have anything in his hands? Was there any, you know, blood on him?’

  ‘Not that I remember. He stared right at me but it was like he didn’t really see me. He looked so angry. Then he ran out the room.’

  ‘Did he say anything? Did Sugar G threaten you?’

  ‘No nothing. He didn’t say a word.’

  ‘And the next thing you remember you were at Kal’s flat?’ asked Marty.

  Sophie nodded. ‘Why did I blank that out? I don’t understand.’

  ‘You found your friend murdered in a grotesque way. Your mind made you forget it to protect yourself,’ Kal said.

  ‘So that makes Sugar G the main suspect,’ Marty said. ‘He’s placed at the scene. He had access. Privacy. What about motive?’

  Sophie shook her head. ‘That doesn’t make sense. Sugar G adored Penny. He’d do anything for her, literally, and if my reading of Penny’s right, she felt the same way about him. Though they kept their relationship secret, I’m certain I’m right.’

  ‘What?’ said Kal. ‘Sugar G and Penny had a thing going on? You’re kidding me.’

  ‘Why shouldn’t they have? They’ve known each other since forever. I think they were in love,’ Sophie said.

  Marty frowned. ‘So, he was a spurned lover? Someone else came on the scene and got between them? Then he lost the plot.’

  ‘What happened to Penny isn’t the modus operandi of a jilted lover,’ Kal said. ‘That’s the MO of a sociopath.’

  ***

  Kal and Sophie were dropped back at 701 by Marty’s brother and Sophie sat on the settee cradling a mug of hot chocolate.

  ‘Why are you helping me, Kal?’

  ‘Because you’ve lost your two dearest friends. Because you need someone on your side.’

  ‘No. Why are you really helping me?’

  Kal stroked Purdy and stalled. Should she tell the truth? That she wanted to help to try and make up for her father’s past. To try to do something right to balance out all the dark and dirty things he’d done. Not least David Khan’s last act of butchering a man and a woman in their own home, leaving behind a lone child survivor. A child like Sophie. A child who was very probably plagued by post-traumatic stress disorder the same as Sophie. Who very likely struggled to lead an ordinary life. Who had been left with the scars of David Khan’s violence and brutality. Kal shivered. She preferred to shoulder the shame alone. Besides, would saying it aloud make any difference? No, that was a dirty secret she’d be forced to carry alone for the rest of her life.

  ‘This is the second chocolate you’ve made for me since we got back from Marty’s. She really cares about you but I guess you know that. She’s got a strong spirit, hasn’t she?’ Sophie took a sip of chocolate. ‘So, are you going to answer my question?’

  Damn it. Couldn’t she risk a glimmer of the truth? Kal had proven to herself she wasn’t like him. Couldn’t she give herself one tiny break? One little step away from the guilt.

  Kal cleared her throat. ‘It’s to do with my father. He was a nasty man. I suppose I feel I need to make up for all his…‘ She searched for the right word - Violence? Killings? Murders? – none of them seemed right.

  ‘Oh,’ Sophie said. ‘You never mentioned your father before.’

  No, thought Kal, and neither would you if you knew anything about him. She shrugged. ‘It’s complicated.’

  ‘Something tells me you’re ashamed of him. Don’t worry, it can’t be that bad. You’re far too nice. Oh, and I shouldn’t have eavesdropped, I know, except I heard Marty asking about me. She thinks Eliza’s death is something to do with me, doesn’t she? Well, I don’t blame her. I suppose you told Marty I’m a head case and you wouldn’t be wrong. Maybe she thinks it’s me who supplied the drugs?’

  ‘Marty doesn’t know you as well as I do.’

  ‘Of course she doesn’t. Thing is, she’s right.’

  Sophie’s almond eyes stared straight at Kal and Kal felt herself go very still and concentrated inside. She’d locked Sophie’s knife away that night but it would have been easy for Sophie to have picked up another along the way. It was as if anything could happen – Sophie was capable of going in many different directions. Which one would come out now?

  ‘Marty’s right, Eliza’s death was my fault.’

  ‘Soph-‘

  ‘Hear me out. I told you Eliza’s lawyer visited before her birthday. That’s because we had a plan. It was our secret. Eliza and I planned to move out of Melrose. As soon as I got my money we were going to buy our own place. Eliza’s lawyer was going to help us. That’s why Eliza was killed – because of our secret plan to escape.’

  Kal could see the torment. The girls had planned to be free and Sophie firmly believed that was responsible for Eliza’s death. It was the piece of the puzzle Kal had sensed Sophie withheld.

  Kal took hold of Sophie’s hand. ‘You cared for Eliza and it’s not your fault. I know that and you know that. Don’t ever think otherwise and don’t let anyone persuade you otherwise. You are innocent. Whoever killed Eliza is a monster. And clever. And I promise you, we’re going to nail them.’

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  St James Park stayed open until midnight, so a late night rendezvous on the south side of the lake proved no problem for Kal. Detective Inspector Spinks sat on his usual bench. A silhouette in the gloom, Spinks turned in Kal’s direction as she approached.

  ‘Good evening, Ms Medi,’ he said.

  ‘Hello Detective Inspector.’

  He coughed. ‘Actually, as of last month, it’s Detective Chief Inspector.’

  ‘Congratulations Detective Chief Inspector. Do you meet all your clandestine contacts at close to midnight, or is that just me?’

  ‘I’d hardly call you a “clandestine contact” Ms Medi, but, yes, I rather like this little bench for our meetings, don’t you? And my promotion made it a little easier to get hold of the autopsy report on Penelope Sanders. We found traces of date rape drug in her bloodstream. There was vaginal penetration by a solid object, which left severe abrasions. Cause of death – blood loss from the laceration across her abdomen. The cutting away of the eyelids occurred before death.’

  He glanced in her direction, presumably, to check he wasn’t being too blunt with the details.

  ‘Please carry on, Detective Chief Inspector.’

  ‘The national database threw up five unsolved murders where the eyelids of the victims had been removed. All young women. Spread over the last ten years. Four occurred within a fifty mile radius of London. The first was in Wales.’

  Sophie’s parents had been killed seven years ago. Could the Kendrick murders be connected?

  ‘No one was able to link the crimes?’

  ‘On each occasion, the police questioned a number of suspects and no charges were brought. I hope to make headway with the death of Ms Sanders and I’ll be liaising with the senior investigating officer for the case.’

  Kal nodded. She wanted something from Spinks, something significant, though now wasn’t the time to ask; she must earn it first. ‘I think you should bring two other deaths into the picture. Seven years ago, Charlotte and Martin Kendrick were found dead. It’s not the same MO but something tells me there’s a connection.’

  Spinks stared into the distance as he thought, and Kal felt certain the name meant something to him. She waited for him to make the link. It didn’t take long.

  ‘The name Kendrick is familiar. I think it’s in connection with an incident at a private clinic. A young girl was found dead.’ Spinks stared at Kal and she didn’t give anything away. If they were to work together, they needed to rely on each other. Did Spinks trust her? She’d soon find out.

  Spinks scrolled his phone,
checking the details. ‘They’re searching for a young girl to bring in for further questioning.’

  ‘Oh?’

  Spinks’ body posture remained calm. He was assessing her and deciding on his next move, she could see it. He didn’t ask for explanations and Kal supposed that’s how Spinks dealt with his informants. Managing accomplices must call for delicate handling. Not asking for too much. Working with what you could get. She wondered how many informants Spinks had on his books because that’s what she was doing here wasn’t it? Giving information, trading.

  ‘Yes, the name of the girl they’re searching for is, Sophie Kendrick,’ Spinks said.

  ‘Is she a suspect?’

  Spinks checked again, no doubt tapping into the police database. ‘A supply of medication was found in Sophie Kendrick’s room. The same type on which the girl, Eliza, overdosed. Ms Kendrick needs to answer questions about that. You should be aware Ms Kendrick is unstable and believed to be a danger to herself and to others. Apparently, Sophie Kendrick attacked Eliza in the past – she knifed Eliza in the stomach.’

  Kal’s own stomach clenched.

  Spinks was no fool. He’d remember Sophie as the girl Kal had brought to the riverbank. How much slack would he be prepared to cut?

  ‘Sounds to me as if someone might be trying to frame her,’ Kal said.

  The street light behind Spinks accentuated his hooded eyes. Spinks seemed every inch the experienced detective he was. Kal could sense his ease with this conversation. She hoped it signalled his ease with her. If Kal didn’t know herself better she’d say she was actually starting to like him.

  ‘Hmm,’ he said. ‘I hope for Ms Kendrick’s sake she decides to present herself to a police station within, say, the next twenty-four hours. And it goes without saying anyone she might be with must stay extra alert for their own safety.’

  Kal felt a trace of a smile on her lips. Message received, DCI Spinks.

  Down the path, a jogger was approaching their bench and he gave the two of them a strange look. She supposed he might wonder about a young woman meeting a much older man so late at night. Kal gave the jogger an evil glare and the man speeded up.

  Spinks cleared his throat. ‘Let’s not frighten the locals, Ms Medi.’

  She gave him her most innocent look.

  ‘The lab tested the pills you gave me. They’re placebos,’ he said.

  That was a shock. ‘Placebos, nothing in them at all, are you sure?’

  Spinks didn’t stoop to answer.

  ‘I was expecting some kind of mind-altering drug. Something heavy.’

  If Sophie wasn’t being manipulated by drugs, then what the hell had been happening to her? This stirred up even more questions.

  Though Kal was sure he didn’t have enough light to read it, Spinks glanced at his watch.

  ‘Let’s keep in contact on this one, Ms Medi,’ he said. ‘I have another meeting I need to attend.’

  ‘At quarter to midnight?’ she said.

  ‘Oh yes,’ he said, standing to leave. ‘And the park will be closing soon. You’d better make sure you don’t get locked inside.’

  ‘Thanks for the warnings,’ Kal said.

  Spinks nodded and then he went one way and she another and Kal took the long route home because she needed time to think.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Arthur Connell lived in the suburbs. With a trimmed hedge and rose bushes along the path, the semi-detached house sat tidy and neat. According to Sophie, Connell had been her Art tutor for less than a year. Sophie’s previous teacher, widowed and approaching retirement, had found a new partner in life and jetted off. Arthur Connell had stepped in to take her place.

  Kal rang the bell for the second time. She blocked out the fact that the more Sophie fidgeted, the more Marty frowned. Marty hadn’t wanted to bring Sophie along, saying Sophie wasn’t able to deal with this sort of pressure, but Kal understood Connell’s arrival at Melrose coincided with the onset of Sophie’s headaches and she intended to find out why. And to find out if there was any connection to the killings. Having Sophie in the room was essential and it would give Kal more space to dig around, so Marty would have to shelve her disapproval.

  ‘You sure we’ve got the right address?’ Marty asked.

  ‘Mr Connell’s probably absorbed in drawing. Even at Melrose, he gets distracted and forgets what he’s supposed to be doing,’ Sophie said.

  ‘I sent him a message saying we were on our way,’ Kal said.

  She was about to ring for a third time and give the door a good thudding, when it opened.

  Late fifties, with grey hair tied in a ponytail, Connell looked the artistic type. He had vague, dreamy eyes and a slight squint. He wore grey trousers and a pink, crumpled shirt with the sleeves rolled up and one of them rolled higher than the other. His blue, fluffy slippers seemed out of place. Connell gave Kal a smile and held out his hand.

  ‘Goodness, you got here sooner than I expected,’ Connell said, pushing his glasses up his nose. ‘Welcome, please come in.’ He ushered the three of them into the hallway. ‘What a terrible time this is and such dreadful news about poor Eliza. My dear Sophie, I’m so sorry.’

  Connell patted Sophie on the back in a kind way, and Sophie gave a little nod and gulped, prompting Marty to give Kal a look of death. Kal pretended not to notice. On his way into the lounge, Connell shooed away a cat but it was undeterred and slipped around his legs to jump onto the settee.

  ‘Please take a seat and I hope you don’t mind animals? I must say I was a little surprised by your phone call, Ms Medi, how can I help?’

  ‘Thanks for making time to see us, Mr Connell,’ Kal said. ‘As I explained, I’m a friend of Sophie’s and I’m helping her investigate her family tree. I’m sure you can appreciate how important it is for Sophie to understand as much as she can about her family and it’s a cathartic project too, to come to terms with who she is and where she comes from. It’s ongoing work and we decided to press on with it, despite recent – you know – events.’

  ‘Yes, yes of course. Sometimes it’s best to keep activities going, otherwise the mind simply dwells and slides into melancholy. Though I imagine Raymond would be the best person to ask about family matters.’

  ‘Brother, sister relationships aren’t always straightforward, Mr Connell,’ Kal said. She gave him a smile, which he returned. Connell seemed a straightforward, gentle man. Good manners, middle class tastes in furniture and decoration. There were no photographs of family in the lounge and no sign of a Mrs Connell or a partner, though the room appeared homely. Kal wondered where Connell kept his art work – perhaps he’d converted one of the rooms into a studio.

  The cat moved to sit in between Marty and Sophie and it turned its back on Marty and started rubbing its face on Sophie’s leg. Kal noticed it only had one eye. She gave Sophie a nod and a smile of encouragement.

  ‘You knew Mum, didn’t you Mr Connell? I remember you mentioning it when we first met,’ Sophie said.

  Connell nodded and he seemed to consider his answer. ‘Your mother and I were at art college together. Dr Kaufman told me not to talk to you about Charlotte and I admit I found his advice a bit silly. Still, a job at a place like Melrose Clinic isn’t an opportunity that comes around very often, so I agreed.’

  ‘Would you be willing to talk about Sophie’s mother here in private? It’s all confidential,’ Kal said.

  ‘Please Mr Connell, I know so little about my Mum,’ Sophie said. ‘And I worry that one day I won’t remember anything about her at all.’

  Connell’s glasses had slipped down his nose and he looked directly at Kal as he pushed them up. Someone less observant would have missed it. Or might have dismissed it as a trick of the light. Not Kal. She knew what she’d seen. Connell’s eyes hadn’t changed focus as they adjusted to his thick rimmed glasses. Now he looked at Kal from behind them and she kept her mouth in a gentle smile but she hadn’t been fooled. Those glasses were made of plain glass, she was sure of it. Wh
ich meant Connell didn’t wear them for his eyesight. Why would someone pretend to need glasses? Why would someone go through the pretence? Kal felt herself go very calm inside. Calm and icy. Connell was not what he seemed. He wore glasses to steer people off track, to create a distraction. He liked to display himself as a weaker person, a bit of a scatter brain, a dreamer, and yet, his trick with the glasses meant Connell had a side he kept away from public view. A secret side, cunningly concealed under a front of absent-mindedness. Her skin prickled.

  Connell sighed. ‘When I knew her, Charlotte Kendrick was a beautiful young woman. So talented, and carefree, you know, someone with a wistful quality about them, with her head in the clouds. I was an impressionable young man at the time, and I thought she was wonderful. I think a lot of the students in our circle were a little bit in love with her, oh, don’t get me wrong, it was nothing serious, I’m only trying to explain how magnetic she was. When Charlotte agreed to marry your father, Sophie, there were plenty of disappointed admirers.’

  ‘Did you know Martin Kendrick too?’ asked Marty.

  ‘Not really, he was a lot older than us. About twelve years her senior, I think, and an ambitious man in the medical field.’

  Connell appeared to be telling the truth. Kal kept her concentration steady and focused, alert for any more giveaways.

  ‘Can you tell us something about Charlotte’s background? Did you ever meet her family?’ Kal said.

  ‘We’d all left home to follow our dreams of life as an artist. Few people talked about their home lives, certainly not Charlotte. We were a group of young people having fun, studying art and throwing all our passion into it.’

  ‘What about her interests outside of college?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. I think I have some photographs I can show you, if that might help?’

  Yes, he was quite an artist, and she didn’t mean at painting. Connell had skimmed onto the photographs like an expert manipulator. Brushing over the questions about Charlotte and suggesting an offering of photographs that Sophie would find it hard to resist. Kal didn’t rush to accept what she knew to be a distraction. Why had he skimmed? Either he knew nothing about Charlotte, or he knew something significant he didn’t want to tell, and Kal felt clear which of those she’d put her money on. Kal watched Connell’s left hand as he raised it and shifted his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

 

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