No One's Safe: DI Max Byrd & DI Orion Tanzy book 3

by C. J. Grayson

  ‘Thank you all for coming here tonight,’ she started, her experienced voice loud and clear. ‘I can only apologise it isn’t in our usual place. I’ve been told they are renovating.’ She paused a moment, looking down at the clipboard in her hands to collect her thoughts. ‘This meeting is concerning current events in Darlington. We, as the people of this town, should know that this town is safe and that our police force is doing everything they can to keep it that way. Recently, in my opinion, and I’m sure the opinions of others, this town has experienced things which make us feel unsafe. Tonight we have DI Orion Tanzy from Durham Constabulary with us, to explain what’s been happening, and to hopefully reassure us that our town will be soon safe to live in.’

  Her words hovered over the crowd.

  Tanzy felt his blood pump around his body and his cheeks warm, knowing it was his turn to stand up as soon as she sat down. He hated these things, hated the spotlight. Byrd was better speaking to groups and Tanzy wouldn’t deny it.

  He forced a smile and slowly found his feet, feeling the stares of the people watching him. The cameras clicked, quickly illuminating the room in stabs of lightning. He took a breath and introduced himself first, then said, ‘I’d first like to say that Durham Constabulary are doing everything they can to catch the person responsible for the murders of the Walters family. We believe the same killer was involved in the cause of the death of Jane Ericson when she fell from four floors up. We think—’

  ‘Is it true a detective should have reached her but missed, which led to her death?’ a reporter said, sitting in the middle, two rows back. A woman with ginger frizzy hair, holding a recording device out in front of her at arm’s length.

  ‘I’m not sure where that information came from, but the detective you’re speaking of reached out for her the best he could. Unfortunately, Jane Ericson panicked and lost her balance. Regardless of who was standing at that apartment door trying to grab her, she’d have fallen.’

  ‘What leads have you got on the person responsible – it’s a Mackenzie Dilton you’re looking for, isn’t it?’ The question came from a man in his early sixties with whispery grey hair and whose face was blotchy with red skin.

  ‘We are led to believe, by a witness who came forward, he’s called Mackenzie Dilton. She also had informed us that the name Roger Carlton, a name linked with the video uploads and a name he used when I spoke to him at the scene of the fire, was a name of a character he used to love in an American series when they dated years earlier. We have been to his address and been notified by a neighbour they haven’t seen Mr Dilton for almost a year now. The address in question, according to HM Land Registry, doesn’t belong to him anymore.’

  ‘Is that all you have on him?’ the same man asked, disappointed.

  Tanzy shook his head. ‘Mr Dilton’s last known job was for an IT firm based in Newcastle. I’ve spoken with the manager there who confirmed Mr Dilton was in their employment but hasn’t been seen for the last six months. The address given by the member of the public who came forward was confirmed with the IT company.’

  ‘What did Dilton do at the IT company?’ a voice asked but Tanzy couldn’t place it.

  Tanzy looked in the general direction where the voice came from and said, ‘He was a software expert.’

  ‘Is that why you aren’t able to track the videos he uploaded?’ asked the same voice. Tanzy shifted his head but he still couldn’t see who asked the question.

  ‘That’s correct,’ admitted Tanzy. ‘Whatever he’s done, he’s made it very difficult for our IT employees to track it. But we believe we are getting very close.’ Tanzy didn’t want to go into details about how the IP addresses kept shifting every so often, making it almost impossible to trace. And the fact that they were nowhere near locating him. ‘On a positive note, we also have help from an former employee from Essex Police force, who believes there are similar links to something that happened in Essex seven years ago. I’m not willing to go into details but informing you to ensure you know we are doing the best we can.’ Tanzy fell silent, swept the rooms with his eyes, searching for the next question.

  ‘What about the four missing women?’ the ginger-haired reporter asked, still holding the device out in front of her.

  A man stood quickly to the left. ‘Yes, what about them. What about my Lisa? Lisa Felon?’

  Another man behind him stood. ‘And my Sarah? Sarah McKay? Where are they?’

  Tanzy took a deep breath, carefully thinking about an answer.

  ‘Whose body was found on the A66?’ the first man asked, his face serious and red. His shoulders raised and fell quickly, his hands shaking by his side. ‘Why aren’t the police telling us what’s going on?’

  Tanzy forced a thin smile, scratched the top of his tanned, bald head. ‘I can assure you we are doing everything we can. Please—’

  ‘Who does the body belong to?’

  Tanzy didn’t think this was public knowledge yet but it’s only a matter of time before word gets around this town. ‘We haven’t clarified that yet, sir. We need to speak to forensics and the pathology department at the hospital. We’re still waiting on official identification. As soon as we know, we’ll inform the public.’ Tanzy then nodded, indicating he was ready for another question.

  ‘In your opinion, Detective, are the public safe?’

  Tanzy thought long and hard about the answer. He didn’t want to worry them but at the same time, he didn’t want to lie. ‘Being honest, I’d say no one’s safe.’

  51

  Thursday Evening

  Darlington

  Mackenzie Dilton picked up his phone from the kitchen table and called her. It wasn’t long before she answered.

  ‘Hello…’

  ‘Hi, is that Rachel?’ he said in a chirpy, upbeat voice.

  ‘Yes…’ she sounded hesitant.

  ‘It’s Roger Carlton. I’m just confirming you still require the hot tub for tomorrow evening. I’ve had a couple of calls from potential customers who are wanting some tubs over the weekend, but as you are booked in, I’m just confirming your slot.’

  ‘Oh, hi, Roger,’ she said, her voice becoming friendlier. ‘Yes, please. I’ll need it for Saturday night. Did you say you’ll pop by tomorrow to set it up, to make sure everything is working?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Dilton said. ‘It’ll be late morning I’d say. I have plans in the afternoon with family.’

  ‘That’s fine. I’m in all day. Whenever it is, I’ll be here.’

  ‘Great. See you then.’

  Dilton hung up and placed the phone on the table, then stood up, made his way over to the worktop, where there was a bag. He pulled the zip open and peered inside. The lights on the underside of the top cupboard allowed him to see everything in there. He reached in, checked he had everything he’d need for tomorrow. Needles. Two knives. Thin clear tubes. A mechanical pump. Several coiled hoses. Sheeting. Rope. Two jugs. An extension lead. Duct tape. Two small boxes. A catheter with a pre-lubed needle and case.

  He nodded, zipped it back up, then lifted the bag over to the back door, and dropped it carefully down near the large plastic tank.

  Minutes later, he was up in his office, sat down at his desk with his laptop open, looking at a social media profile for Rachel Hammond. He’d been looking at her photos from this year. By the looks of it, she’d been all over the place. Egypt. Cyprus. Turkey. Spain. It was only June.

  Dilton was jealous. The last time he’d been on holiday was Greece over ten years ago. A small place called Lindos on the island of Rhodes.

  His phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and answered it.

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘How you doing, Mack?’ said the voice.

  ‘I’m good. How are you?’

  ‘I’m great, thank you. How are things… progressing?’

  ‘So far, so good,’ he said. ‘Fire and Gas are both done.’

  ‘I know. You did well. I heard about it. What’s next?’

  ‘Wate
r.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘It’s happening tomorrow,’ he said, proudly. ‘Then there’s one more after that.’

  ‘Have you planned it all – will it work?’ said the voice.

  ‘Yes. Everything is planned. It will work. They will get what’s coming to them.’

  ‘I’m not questioning that one bit, Mack. You’ve done yourself proud.’

  ‘Thank you…’

  ‘What’s up?’ asked the voice, detecting something off.

  ‘I can’t believe how people can be. Why would they do it?’ Dilton said.

  ‘Well, it’s for people like us to make sure these people are brought to sweet justice, isn’t it? What will you do after earth?’

  ‘The list starts again. There are too many of them doing it. I need it to stop.’

  ‘Good luck, Mack. I'm praying for you.'

  Dilton smiled to himself. ‘Don't pray for me. Pray for them.’

  52

  Thursday Evening

  Newton Aycliffe

  Tanzy kissed both Eric and Jasmine good night and returned downstairs to find Pip in the kitchen clearing away the dishes. A smell of lavender hung in the air from the plug-in on the worktop as well as her sweet perfume. He stopped in the doorway to look at her. Her slim physique, her tanned hips, her long, dark, straight hair that tickled the base of her spine as she moved, putting the clean plates away.

  ‘They asleep?’ she asked, knowing he was standing there, watching her.

  He walked in and pulled a glass down from the cupboard. ‘They certainly are.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Tanzy filled the glass with water and drunk it all. Then, as he turned, Pip got in his way, stopping him from moving away from the sink.

  ‘Wha—’

  She placed her finger on his mouth. ‘Shh, Ori…’ She then took the glass from his hand and placed it beside him on the worktop, then slowly pulled his shorts down to his ankles, and lowered to her knees.

  ‘Pip, what are—’

  She silenced him when she took him in her mouth. It wasn’t something she’d normally do but he wasn’t going to complain or interrupt her. Instead, he leaned back against the worktop and closed his eyes.

  A little while later, after Pip had showered, she returned to the kitchen to find Tanzy sitting at the table, looking at his laptop.

  ‘Do you ever stop?’ she asked.

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t. I need to finish this report. Today has been manic. Did you see the news?’

  ‘You looked as handsome as ever.’ She grabbed a snack bar from the cupboard, sat down opposite him and removed the wrapper. ‘Some awkward reporters though?’

  ‘They’re ruthless, Pip.’ He typed a few lines while she ate.

  ‘Eric has been asking about his den.’

  Tanzy pulled his focus away from his laptop to look at her. ‘I haven’t started yet. I’ve been so busy with work and everything going on.’

  ‘He won’t be happy with you.’

  Tanzy rolled his eyes, knowing his ten-year-old son all too well.

  ‘How are Max and Claire?’ she asked.

  He’d told her about Byrd not being there today because Claire had been bleeding and they’d gone to the hospital. Pip was going to text her but felt like, although it wasn’t her intent, it would look like she was being nosey.

  ‘As far as I know, they’re still there. Max hasn’t told me what’s happening yet. He said the baby is fine though, which is the main thing, but they’ve done some tests and are waiting on the results coming back. You know how long these things can take.’

  Pip nodded. ‘Bless her. Let’s hope things are going to be fine.’

  After CSI New York had finished, Tanzy picked his phone from the arm of the chair and decided to ring Byrd for an update on Claire.

  ‘Hey, Ori,’ Byrd answered.

  ‘How’re things?’

  ‘We’re home now. Just got in actually. Walked through the door fifteen minutes ago. Was going to ring you.’

  ‘Long day.’

  ‘Longer for Claire.’

  ‘How’s she doing?’

  ‘The results came back. Doctors say she has got Uterine Fibroids.’

  ‘What are they?’

  ‘Tissue around her uterine wall – the uterine is the womb where the baby grows. Says the tissue could have expanded during her pregnancy which has caused the heavy bleed.’

  ‘What happens now?’

  ‘She has to see a specialist. Where the fibroids are, if they grow too big, could affect the pregnancy. She has to go in every week to have them checked. If they grow too big, she’ll have them removed.’

  There was a moment of silence.

  ‘Well I’m just happy things are okay, that the baby is, you know…’

  ‘Makes two of us. What’s been happening in the office then? Oh – how was the dreaded conference?’

  Tanzy could tell there was humour in Byrd’s voice, who was well aware of Tanzy’s public-speaking fear.

  ‘As good as any other time. Bloody dreadful. Whatever happens, you’re doing the next one.’

  ‘You got it, boss,’ Byrd said, then laughed. ‘Any updates?’

  ‘I have two from today. First is we got the fingerprints from the box with the head in. No other prints than ours. The second is confirmation of the head belonging to the body parts we found on the A66. Lorraine Eckles. You back tomorrow?’

  ‘Yeah. I’ll be there.’

  ‘Okay. See you bright and early.’

  53

  Friday Morning

  Elton Road

  Rachel Hammond had enjoyed her lie in because she seldom got one. She rose just after nine, had breakfast with a cup of strong coffee, then jumped in the shower, got dressed, and was in her office – a small spare room with a desk and a laptop – by ten.

  Waiting for her laptop to boot up, she slid across the carpet on her chair and looked out the window, spotting Mr Weller next door, tinkering on with his garden, dressed in only shorts and a cap. For sixty, he had a terrific figure. According to his wife, he goes running three times a week, has done for years. When a ping came from the laptop, she slid back across, settled at her desk, and logged on to the website. When the screen changed, there they were. Two of them, awake, sitting against the back wall, in silence.

  On the right-hand side of the screen, it showed the votes. Lisa had fifty-three percent and Sarah had forty-seven. It was going to be a close one because not everyone had voted yet. It showed the three players who were online, including herself.

  RCarl20.

  Spork11.

  And herself. Hammr33.

  But she did wonder where the other two had gone.

  DWalt66 and EricJ4.

  She didn’t know these people, only their usernames, and she couldn’t contact them directly. It was against the rules.

  Above the list of three, was a tab saying ‘Watchers’. Next to this, in brackets, was the number 488. She couldn’t see their usernames but knew they were waiting for the next game. Until then, they couldn’t play, only watch.

  Outside, she heard an engine. She slid away from the desk, stood, and peered out the window. A white van was parked directly outside her house. She closed the lid of her laptop, left the office, and made her way downstairs to the front door.

  ‘Hey,’ she said, opening it, seeing a stocky, clean-shaven, bald man in his late thirties, wearing a pair of shorts and a tight-fitting top. He wasn’t in ‘gym’ shape but was attractive. His dark brown eyes were unusual, almost so dark, they sucked you in for a moment too long when you looked into them.

  ‘Rachel?’ he said.

  ‘That’s me. Are you Roger?’

  ‘I am. Sorry I’m a little earlier than I said. I like to get a head start on the day.’

  She playfully waved his comment away. ‘Oh, that’s okay.’

  ‘Would it be possible to see where you want the hot tub first to make sure there’s enough space?’

  Sh
e opened the door fully. ‘Yeah no problem. Follow me.’

  He stepped up into a wide hallway and she closed the door. He noticed the stairs were up to the left and at the end of the hall, he could see the kitchen. There were a couple of doors going off to the right. The décor was simple yet modern, whites and greens mixed. A large rectangular mirror was fixed to the wall on the right, positioned above the radiator.

  ‘Please, this way,’ she said, heading toward the kitchen. He followed her movements, watching her tanned, muscular legs contract as she walked. She sounded sexy on the phone and her appearance didn’t disappoint.

  ‘Mind the mess,’ she said. ‘I’m about to clean up.’

  Dilton smiled as he followed her. People always said the same when you went into their house, regardless of if they hadn’t cleaned in a week, or they’d just finished. It was a polite way of saying ‘hey, this is my house. If it isn’t up to your standards, then you’ll have to accept it.’ But everyone knew it was a thing that people said.

  ‘So, have you got many booked in for today?’ she asked.

  He stared at the back of her head, watching her closely, pulling out one of the needles from his pocket. ‘Yeah, I have seven booked in for today.’

  She turned and made a ‘wow’ face. ‘That’s good. Just through here.’ As she stepped one foot on the lino she felt the needle go into the right side of her neck. An instant reaction was to swat at her neck, thinking it was some type of wasp or bee sting. Dilton threw his strong left hand around her and pulled her close into him, her feet leaving the floor for a moment, and pushed the liquid into her neck. Helplessly, she shuddered and wriggled, struggling for several seconds until she lost consciousness.

  Dilton removed the needle and dropped it on the floor. Without letting her hit the ground, he carried her into the dining room and looked around.

  ‘This will be perfect.’

  He admired her for a moment, unconscious on the floor. A minute later there were two quick knocks on the front door, then he heard it open.

  ‘Hey, Rach.’ A man’s voice. ‘Where are you?’