No Right to Kill

by M A Comley

  “You should keep in touch with them all the same, love. I’m sure they appreciate how busy you are, we do.”

  “I’ll give her a ring in the next few days. I think I’m going to be super busy on this case once we hit the ground with it.”

  “I’ll keep my fingers crossed that you apprehend the person who carried out this brutal crime soon.”

  Sara inwardly laughed at her mother’s choice of words that were straight out of the pages of the police handbook. “That’s the plan, Mum. Would it be all right to invite myself for Sunday lunch this week?”

  “Any time you want to come over here is fine by me. I’ll nip into the supermarket while we’re in town tomorrow and pick up a nice piece of beef, how’s that?”

  “Perfect, roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, just what the doctor ordered.”

  “Ha, not your father’s doctor. He’ll have to skip the Yorkshires this week.”

  “Oh no, we can’t do that to him. If he’s not allowed to have them it wouldn’t hurt us giving them a miss, too, for once.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Thanks for the chat, Mum. Take care. See you around eleven on Sunday?”

  “That’s a date. It should be me telling you to take care, not the other way around.”

  “I’m always careful out there. Love you. Give Dad a hug from me.”

  “I will.” Her mother blew a kiss down the phone and then hung up.

  Sara felt a little guilty causing her mother to worry, although she’d rather be safe than sorry if there was a maniac on the loose. She jumped off the couch and made sure both the back and the front doors were properly secured then switched on the outside light as an added precaution. With her security measures in place, she returned to her seat and patted her lap for Misty to join her.

  Stroking her cat instantly calmed her. After a while, Misty started kneading her leg, now and then catching her skin with her claws. She was tempted to push Misty onto the couch beside her, but the comfort her cat was bringing proved to be too overwhelming to ignore. She placed her head against the back of the sofa and closed her eyes, stroking Misty with one hand while holding her glass with the other.

  The sound of the phone disturbed her chill time. She glanced down at the caller ID and instantly bit her lip, debating whether she should let the call get picked up by the voicemail for the second time that evening. Coward! I’m going to have to speak to him sooner or later. Why not now? Listening to her inner voice had the desired effect, and she punched the call answer button. “Hello.”

  “Oh, you are there. I was just about to hang up. How are you, Sara?”

  “Hi, Donald. Sorry, I’ve only just got in. It’s been a long day at work.”

  “No, it should be me apologising to you. Go, do what you need to do, I’ll ring back later.”

  Guilt tugged at her heartstrings. “Honestly, it’s no bother. I ate at lunchtime with my partner, so I don’t have to prepare a meal or anything as boring as that.”

  “How have you been since we last met?”

  She detected the hesitancy in his voice. “Busy,” she replied nonchalantly, hoping to give him the impression that what had happened between them hadn’t had a lasting consequence on her when it clearly had.

  He laughed. “Ditto. We have the end of the financial year to get in order for all of our clients.”

  Donald was an accountant. Sara couldn’t think of anything more boring than sitting at a desk all day number crunching. Saying that, Donald had never given her the impression that he was boring in the slightest. At least he didn’t drone on and on about his work at any family gatherings she had attended. “I suppose we all have our crosses to bear.”

  “We do. It must be hard for you chasing people with outstanding parking fines to pay.”

  Sara just managed to stop herself spitting out the sip of vodka she’d taken. “Not sure where you get that idea from. Actually, it’s been a pretty full-on day dealing with a murder enquiry.”

  He whistled down the line, almost deafening her. “Get you. Are you winding me up? Nothing that exciting goes on around here in sluggish Herefordshire.”

  “No, I’m not in the habit of winding people up in that way. I’m deadly serious, excuse the pun. If you must know, my partner and I have been comforting the victims’ family all day,” she snapped back. She bit down on her tongue after she’d finished her mini rant.

  “Whoa! Okay, I didn’t mean to cause offence.”

  “No. I’m sorry for snapping. I’m tired and I suspect I have a very taxing week ahead of me. What is it you wanted, Donald?”

  He was silent for a moment, then finally said, “I was hoping we could go out to dinner one night?”

  “Why?” she asked, her tone clipped.

  “Does there have to be a reason why I want to see you?”

  Sara puffed out her cheeks, unsure how to respond without hurting him. She shrugged as if he were sitting in the room with her.

  “Sara?” he prompted quietly.

  “It’s too soon, Donald.”

  “Really? It’s been over a year, almost two…Philip wouldn’t want you to go into your shell like this.”

  She shook her head. No one had known Philip as well as she had. His family might think they had, but they hadn’t. She and her husband had shared intimate secrets about each other that no one else was aware of. That kind of love and intimacy only came along once in someone’s life. It could never be repeated, not in her eyes, and especially not with her husband’s brother.

  “You’ve gone quiet on me again. Speak to me,” Donald insisted.

  “I can’t. Look, the last thing I want is for us to fall out. Philip and I had something special that I believe could never be replicated.”

  “You won’t know unless you try,” he persisted.

  “As I’ve already told you, Donald, I’m not ready. I’m not sure I ever will be ready to move on. Your brother meant the world to me.” She could feel herself becoming overwhelmed with emotion again. Why? Why should she have to justify the way she felt?

  “I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was upset you, Sara. Will you forgive me?”

  “There’s really nothing to forgive. Philip was the love of my life. My heart shattered into tiny pieces the day he was gunned down in front of me. That type of thing sometimes takes an eternity to overcome.”

  He fell silent for a while to the point Sara thought he was no longer on the line. “What was that about last week then? The kiss we shared.”

  Unexpected tears filled her eyes and dripped onto her cheeks. “Honestly? I don’t know. That’s the best I can do right now excuse-wise. I need to go, Donald.”

  “Okay. I’ll ring you soon, if I have your permission?”

  “If you want to, as long as you realise there are no guarantees.”

  “I get that. We can still be friends though, right?”

  “Of course. Speak soon.” She ended the call before they started going around in circles. She’d learnt over the years that Donald wasn’t the type to take no for an answer. The thing was, he’d have to in this case.

  Needing a distraction, she switched on the TV and flicked through the channels. Soaps and more damn soaps. Not for the first time she regretted not having Sky and the hundreds of channels available to choose from. But then that all came at a cost that she couldn’t afford on her meagre wage. Everyone thought inspectors were highly compensated for the job they performed. Unfortunately, that could be nothing further from the truth. No, that was being unfair. Yes, an inspector’s wage was adequate enough; her problem was that there was only one wage coming into the house. The council tax alone was now a staggering ten percent of her salary, which was outrageous. No doubt other people in the county were infuriated as much as she was. The trouble was, where would the price rise end?

  With the amount of new-builds being erected, surely the rates should be going down not rising by three to six percent every year for the councils to waste on plush desks for their off
ices.

  Sara downed her drink to get rid of the sour taste that had developed in her mouth. She continued to channel-hop and finally stumbled across a David Attenborough documentary about the Arctic. His voice was so soothing to her ear that it wasn’t long before she dozed off on the couch. She woke to find the end credits filling the screen.

  After letting Misty out and waiting for her to do her business, she bolted the back door again. Her beloved cat ran ahead of her upstairs to bed. Sara set the alarm for seven and switched off the light. Sleep evaded her for hours as her mind refused to let go of the day’s events—all of them, including the conversation she’d had with her brother-in-law.

  Eventually she drifted off, only to wake in a cold sweat after reliving the nightmare that had haunted her every night since Philip had died. Reaching for her mobile that she always kept on the bedside table, she replayed the voicemail message she refused to get rid of.

  “Hello, darling. I’m running a little late. I’ll be with you in five. Love you to the moon and back.”

  She sobbed the way she always did when she heard his melodious tone. She missed him so much. In the beginning, not long after he’d died in her arms, she had contemplated taking her own life just to be with him again. He truly had been her soul partner, and she craved every day to feel his arms wrapped around her. Now and again she was positive she’d heard him call her name or touched her arm. Up until now, she’d never revealed that to anyone, not even her mother.

  She switched on the light again and picked up the small wedding photo she kept on her bedside table. She ran a finger around Philip’s handsome features and then kissed the photo, wishing, not for the first time, that he was lying there in the bed beside her.

  “I miss you so much. My heart will always remain broken until I join you.”

  A sudden gust of wind lifted the curtain. Instead of feeling concerned or nervous, she felt protected, as if Philip was in the room with her.

  “Goodnight, my love.”

  She listened, expecting to hear a response.

  Nothing came.

  Chapter 8

  Sara stretched out and stroked Misty. Her beloved cat purred loudly and lazily strode towards her and hopped onto her stomach. “Cheeky! Only a small cuddle, then I’ll have to get up.”

  Her mind wandered back to the telephone call she’d received from Donald the previous evening. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings; however, she sensed that was the direction she’d need to go to resolve the stalemate between them.

  Sleep had evaded her most of the night—not the best preparation she could think of when in the throes of beginning a new case. “Right, time to get up, little one.”

  Her alarm sounded. She switched it off and rushed into her en suite. Ten minutes later, she emerged feeling fresher, although one look in the mirror told her that she appeared to be anything but refreshed. She withdrew a navy skirt suit and pink blouse from her wardrobe. Once dressed, she hurried downstairs to fix herself some coffee and toast.

  Misty sauntered down the stairs a few minutes later. Sara let her companion out into the garden and waited at the back door for her to do her business. Misty returned, looking for her breakfast, and jumped up on the counter. “Oh no you don’t. You know I hate it when you do that. On the floor where you belong, Munchkin.”

  After topping up Misty’s bowl, Sara gathered her keys and handbag and set off for work. Walking into the incident room, she found Carla already at her desk, beavering away. “Bloody hell! You’re putting me to shame. Two mornings on the trot you’ve beaten me into work. Everything all right?”

  “Yep. Andrew is still away. I didn’t sleep much last night, so instead of lying there doing bugger all, I decided to come in early instead.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “What? You had trouble sleeping, too?”

  Sara nodded and rolled her eyes. “Some cases play on the mind more than others, I suppose,” she added swiftly, trying to avoid some of the questions she sensed coming her way, judging by the expression on her partner’s face. “Coffee? Damn, I forgot to ring the vending machine people.”

  “Never say no to a surplus amount of coffee first thing. I’ll make a note to ring them at nine.”

  “You’re a gem.” She handed her partner a coffee and went into her office to tackle the daily grind of post opening that proceeded everything in an inspector’s life. It was the only downside of the job in her eyes. There was no point complaining about it, no one listened anyway. By all accounts, DCI Price was always anchored to her desk with far more paperwork to handle in a day than Sara had to contend with in a week. She had counted her blessings on that score more than once.

  Not long after, Carla knocked on the door and stuck her head into the office. “Bad news, boss.”

  Sara glanced up and frowned. “Go on.”

  “I’ve just received a call about another double murder.”

  Sara threw herself back in the chair. “What? Where?”

  “Canon Pyon.”

  “Not far from Bodenham as far as I can remember, right?”

  Carla nodded. “That’s right.”

  “Shit. Okay, we’re going to be up against time this morning. I’ve got the press conference at eleven, it’s not as if I can wriggle out of that. Damn! Are you ready to shoot off?”

  “Ready when you are.”

  Sara pushed her paperwork aside, removed her jacket from the back of the chair and left the office with Carla. The rest of the team were sitting at their desks and acknowledged her the minute they saw her.

  “Morning, all. I take it Carla has brought you up to date? We’re going to shoot over to the scene now. I want you all to concentrate on the other case we’re dealing with. The roundup I was intending to go through this morning regarding the Flowers’ case will have to wait for now. We’ll be back soon.”

  Sara and Carla left the room and rushed down the stairs and out of the entrance to Sara’s vehicle.

  Sara’s mind was full of questions during the journey, the main one being whether they were dealing with a serial killer on their patch. The clear answer to that was yes, if they could prove the same person had committed both double murders. She struck the heel of her hand on the steering wheel when the traffic came to a grinding halt ahead of her. “Bloody roadworks. We could do without this today.”

  “I know a shortcut,” Carla said. “You’ll need to turn around and go up the Roman Road, though.”

  “Easily done.” She switched on her siren to get out of the tiny space she was trapped in. A few of the cars in front pulled over to the side, allowing her the chance to squeeze out of the now enlarged gap. Carla held her hand up when a car coming in the opposite direction blasted its horn as Sara did a U-turn in the road.

  Carla gave her instructions which turning to take, and Sara navigated the narrow lanes with ease while still keeping up her speed. She emerged onto the A49 minutes later and let out a sigh of relief. “I’ll have to remember that route in the future. Still struggling with finding the shortcuts needed to navigate this city. Glad to have you by my side.”

  “You’ll get used to it. I’m surprised you don’t know about that route, you could use it to get you home earlier at night.”

  Arriving at the scene, Sara spotted the pathologist’s vehicle and a SOCO van. “We’d better don our suitable clothing before we feel Lorraine’s wrath.”

  They flashed their IDs at the uniformed officer, and he raised the crime scene tape high enough for them to duck under. Entering the house, it didn’t take long for Sara to work out that a struggle had taken place. Most of the furniture in the lounge had been upended.

  “Hi, you two. Glad you could join us,” Lorraine smiled and then shook her head. “Looks like the killer has upped his game on this one.”

  “You think it’s the same culprit?” Sara asked, surveying the room.

  “Don’t you?” Lorraine asked, surprise resonating in her tone. “Two double murders in the space of twenty-f
our to forty-eight hours, depending on the time of the deaths, which I’ve yet to determine.”

  “Granted. I was hoping that wouldn’t be the case. Ignore me, rough night.”

  Lorraine eyed her with concern for a moment or two as if expecting her to divulge why she’d had a rough night. When Sara didn’t respond, she said, “My first reaction would be that we’re dealing with the same person. This time he didn’t hold back. The Flowers got off light compared to this couple.”

  “Do we have a name for the victims?” Carla asked.

  “Linda and Samuel Meredith. Both in their late sixties, relative youngsters compared to the Flowers,” Lorraine told them, sadness shrouding her features.

  “Who found them?” Sara asked, walking across the room to the hallway. “Are the vics in the bedroom?”

  “Yes. The culprit did the same, dragged both of them through the house. To answer your first question, the neighbour came over first thing. She heard a scream last night but neglected to do anything about it as it was too dark to investigate. She lives by herself and was scared. At first light, she came to the house and found the front door unlocked. She opened the door, saw the mess the place was in and called 999 immediately. She’s beside herself.”

  “To be expected. We’ll have a chat with her after we’ve had a good look around. I can’t be here too long, I have a press conference booked in for eleven.”

  “No problem. I’ll do my thing here and send you over my report ASAP. I’ll show you into the bedroom.”

  Lorraine led the way up the narrow hallway to a large double bedroom at the rear. They passed another bedroom on the right. Peering into the room, Sara noticed the bed was unmade. Maybe the couple slept in separate rooms.

  They entered the main bedroom to yet more carnage. It was clear the culprit was intent on finding something he thought the couple were hiding. “Was he searching for money?”

  Lorraine shrugged. “Perhaps. Either way, I think he tortured the couple for a few minutes before they died, possibly to try and get the truth out of them.” The couple were sitting on the floor, back to back. They had a tow rope tied around their chests, joining them together. Their clothing was blood-soaked, and all around them the carpet was stained with their blood.