by Sally Rigby
‘Yes. I had to put a stop to his behaviour. Even while he was trying to groom me, pretending to be a teen girl, he’d been doing the same to two other girls. I couldn’t let it continue.’
‘We are aware of these two girls and have spoken to them.’
‘Do you know he blackmailed one of them into having sex with him? Luckily, I saved the other girl.’
Whitney didn’t answer. She wanted to extract more information from Diana, without appearing to condone her actions.
‘What happened when you met him?’
‘He came to the place we’d agreed to meet and saw it was me. He tried to wriggle out of it and said he was doing it for a friend. I suggested we go somewhere to talk. When we were in the car, I injected him with a sedative and took him back home to the barn in one of the fields adjoining our house.’
‘You mean the stable block?’ Whitney asked.
‘No, we have some fields adjoining our house and the barn is there.’
Whitney could’ve kicked herself. Why hadn’t they searched there? They’d confined themselves to the house and immediate garden.
‘Why did you decide to cut off his genitals and feed them to him?’
‘After what he’d done, I wanted to take away his manhood. Making him eat it was to illustrate to him how depraved he was. Likewise, for the other men.’
‘On all the bodies, you left on their socks. Why?’
‘I hate feet and I didn’t want to see them.’
Whitney sensed it was more than that.
‘Why didn’t you leave them fully clothed?’ she asked.
‘Because I wanted them to feel as vulnerable as they made those poor girls.’
‘What made you decide to murder Kelvin Keane and Tony Adams? I understand Russell, because he was your husband, but why did you murder the others?’
‘They deserved it. Every time they groomed and had sex with these young girls, they ruined their victims’ lives forever. And I should know.’
‘Did you experience something like that yourself?’
Diana’s eyes glazed over, and she stared into space for a while. Eventually, she looked across at Whitney. ‘Yes, I did.’
‘Would you like to tell me about it?’ Whitney asked.
Could there be extenuating circumstances? Something which would lessen her sentence when she got to court? Not that Whitney was advocating she got special treatment. That couldn’t happen. The woman deserved to be punished for what she’d done, but if they understood the reasons behind it, the judge might err on the more lenient side, within the sentencing guidelines.
‘My parents had lots of friends, and they’d see each other at dinner parties. I liked it when the dinner parties were at our house because of all the food, and sometimes I’d be allowed to stay up and talk to the guests. My favourite guest was Uncle Charles. He always paid me extra attention. We’d talk for ages. He seemed to understand me.’ She paused, a pained expression on her face.
Whitney already knew what was coming. Uncle Charles.
‘Carry on,’ she coaxed.
‘Their friends were at our house the day after my tenth birthday. It was late and I’d gone to bed. I was almost asleep when there was a knock at my door and it opened. I thought it would be one of my parents, but when I opened my eyes fully, I saw Uncle Charles standing there, looking down at me. He sat on the edge of my bed and rested his hand on the duvet. He pulled it back and looked at me in my PJs. He started stroking my body over my pyjamas and then eased his hand under the elastic of my bottoms. I told him to stop, but he kept on going, telling me I was enjoying it.’
Diana went silent. After a few seconds, Whitney spoke. ‘What happened next?’
‘He stopped and left my bedroom. On his way out, he told me what had happened was our little secret and if I told anyone he would pull the funding he’d promised my father for his business.’
Whitney swallowed hard. What a bastard. But it wasn’t enough to turn her into a murderer. There had to be more.
‘Did it happen again?’
Diana nodded. ‘Every time he came around to the house, he’d somehow manage to appear in my bedroom. If I knew in advance he was coming, I’d try to arrange a sleepover at one of my friends’ houses, but that didn’t always work out.’
‘Did he do more than touch you?’ Whitney asked.
Diana nodded again and shuddered. ‘He raped me. H-he made me do abhorrent things to him.’ Tears formed in her eyes.
Whitney cringed. ‘What things?’
‘Suck his toes. The rancid smell of his feet still permeates my senses whenever I remember having to do it.’ Disgust flickered in her eyes.
‘Which is why you hate feet and left the socks on the victims,’ Whitney said, now understanding.
‘Yes.’
‘How long did this go on for?’ Whitney asked.
‘Until I was thirteen and he had a stroke. It was just before I went away to boarding school.’
‘Did you tell anyone about it?’
‘You’re the first person. I was so embarrassed and disgusted. But I couldn’t let what I’d gone through happen to others. When I found out about Russell, I flipped.’ She leaned forward and rested her head in her hands.
‘Would you like a glass of water?’ Whitney asked.
‘Yes, please.’
‘Doug will get you one. Interview suspended at fourteen hundred hours.’
Whitney left the interview room with Doug, who went in the direction of the water cooler, and she went in to see George.
‘The poor woman,’ she said, shaking her head.
‘It explains a lot,’ George said.
‘But it doesn’t excuse what she’s done. She’s still charged with three murders.’
‘Her solicitor should get a psychiatric evaluation.’
‘You think she could claim diminished responsibility?’ Whitney asked, hoping it might be the answer.
‘It would be up to the psychiatrist to decide. But I’m sure her history will have an impact on the sentence.’
‘Good. I’m going to continue the interview and then have to see Jamieson. No need for you to stay if you want to get back to work.’
George glared at her. ‘How many times do I have to tell you not to mention me going back to work?’
‘I’m just saying, in case it’s what you want to do. But as it’s not, you can come with me to see Jamieson.’
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Whitney knocked on the open door of Jamieson’s office and walked in, followed by George.
‘Sit down,’ he said, beaming at them, in particular George.
Whitney tensed. What an arse. He was being extra nice because George was with her. Clearly he viewed George as academically superior and wanted to ingratiate himself. Or was she being super sensitive, for a change? She’d decide later.
‘Thank you, sir,’ she said.
‘I want to congratulate you on a job well done. Now we’ve got the crazy lady off the street, everyone can sleep easier in their beds.’
An odd thing to say, considering Diana Atkins only targeted paedophiles.
‘Well, I don’t know about that, sir. She went after depraved men who groomed young girls on the Internet. I’d say she did us all a service.’
‘We can’t encourage vigilantism.’
‘I’m not condoning it. Just saying we wouldn’t have these vigilantes if we were able to direct more resources to policing these Internet sites.’
‘Agreed. But unfortunately, our resources are finite. Anyway, the case is now closed, but at least we have a budget for Dr Cavendish to continue working with us. Assuming you want to continue and it doesn’t interfere too much with your work at the university,’ he asked, smiling at George.
‘I’ll endeavour to fit it in,’ George said.
Whitney smiled to herself at George’s response.
‘If that’s all, we have a mountain of paperwork to tackle,’ she said, anxious to get away.
‘
Yes, you can go,’ he said.
They left his office and once they were far enough away so they couldn’t be heard, Whitney came to a halt.
‘What a sleaze. Did you notice how he was sucking up to you?’ she asked, grimacing.
‘Not really.’ George shrugged.
‘All smiles and being nice. It’s because you’re a doctor and hold higher academic qualifications than him. Does he know you went to Oxford, too?’
‘If he does, it wasn’t from me.’
‘I bet he researched you online.’
‘Does it matter?’ George asked.
‘I suppose not. But it does annoy me, the way he assumes he’s better than me because of his fancy education.’
‘But as we’ve already established, it doesn’t make him a good police officer. You knock spots off him in that respect.’
‘You’re just saying that because I’m annoyed.’
‘I’ll be annoyed soon, too, if you don’t stop being so silly.’
Whitney stared at George and started to laugh.
‘Oh my God. Listen to us. We’re like an old married couple.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means we’ve got to learn to put up with each other’s quirks and ways of doing things. Then our relationship will be successful.’
‘So, we’re in it for the long haul, then?’
‘You bet we are,’ Whitney said.
Read more about Cavendish & Walker
DEADLY GAMES - Cavendish & Walker Book 1
A killer is playing cat and mouse……. and winning.
DCI Whitney Walker wants to save her career. Forensic psychologist, Dr Georgina Cavendish, wants to avenge the death of her student.
Sparks fly when real world policing meets academic theory, and it’s not a pretty sight.
When two more bodies are discovered, Walker and Cavendish form an uneasy alliance. But are they in time to save the next victim?
Deadly Games is the first book in the Cavendish and Walker crime fiction series. If you like serial killer thrillers and psychological intrigue, then you’ll love Sally Rigby’s page-turning book.
Pick up Deadly Games today to read Cavendish & Walker’s first case.
Tap here to buy it on Amazon.
DEATH TRACK - Cavendish & Walker Book 3
Catch the train if you dare…
After a teenage boy is found dead on a Lenchester train, Detective Chief Inspector Whitney Walker believes they’re being targeted by the notorious Carriage Killer, who chooses a local rail network, commits four murders, and moves on.
Against her wishes, Walker’s boss brings in officers from another force to help the investigation and prevent more deaths, but she’s forced to defend her team against this outside interference.
Forensic psychologist, Dr Georgina Cavendish, is by her side in an attempt to bring to an end this killing spree. But how can they get into the mind of a killer who has already killed twelve times in two years without leaving a single clue behind?
For fans of Rachel Abbott, L J Ross and Angela Marsons, Death Track is the third in the Cavendish & Walker series. A gripping serial killer thriller that will have you hooked.
Tap here to buy it on Amazon
LETHAL SECRET - Cavendish & Walker Book 4
Someone has a secret. A secret worth killing for....
When a series of suicides, linked to the Wellness Spirit Centre, turn out to be murder, it brings together DCI Whitney Walker and forensic psychologist Dr Georgina Cavendish for another investigation. But as they delve deeper, they come across a tangle of secrets and the very real risk that the killer will strike again.
As the clock ticks down, the only way forward is to infiltrate the centre. But the outcome is disastrous, in more ways than one.
For fans of Angela Marsons, Rachel Abbott and M A Comley, Lethal Secret is the fourth book in the Cavendish & Walker crime fiction series.
Tap here to buy it on Amazon
LAST BREATH - Cavendish & Walker Book 5
Has the Lenchester Strangler returned?
When a murderer leaves a familiar pink scarf as his calling card, Detective Chief Inspector Whitney Walker is forced to dig into a cold case, not sure if she's looking for a killer or a copycat.
With a growing pile of bodies, and no clues, she turns to forensic psychologist, Dr Georgina Cavendish, despite their relationship being at an all-time low.
Can they overcome the bad blood between them to solve the unsolvable?
For fans of Rachel Abbott, Angela Marsons and M A Comley, Last Breath is the fifth book in the Cavendish & Walker crime fiction series.
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FINAL VERDICT - Cavendish & Walker Book 5
The judge has spoken……everyone must die.
When a killer starts murdering lawyers in a prestigious law firm, and every lead takes them to a dead end, DCI Whitney Walker finds herself grappling for a motive.
What links these deaths, and why use a lethal injection?
Alongside forensic psychologist, Dr Georgina Cavendish, they close in on the killer, while all the time trying to not let their personal lives get in the way of the investigation.
For fans of Rachel Abbott, Mark Dawson and M A Comley, Final Verdict is the sixth in the Cavendish & Walker series. A fast paced murder mystery which will keep you guessing.
Tap here to buy
Acknowledgments
Fatal Justice was a challenging book to write, because of the subject matter, and I couldn’t have done it without the help of many people.
First, I’d like to thank my partners-in-crime Amanda Ashby and Christina Phillips for always being there and helping me turn the seed of an idea into a complete novel. I’d be lost without you.
Thanks, to my editing team, Emma Mitchell and Amy Hart. Also, to Stuart Bache, thanks for another fabulous cover.
Last, but not least, thanks to my family Garry, Alicia and Marcus for your continued support.
About the Author
Sally Rigby was born in Northampton, in the UK. She has always had the travel bug, and after living in both Manchester and London, eventually moved overseas. From 2001 she has lived with her family in New Zealand, which she considers to be the most beautiful place in the world. During this time she also lived for five years in Australia.
Sally has always loved crime fiction books, films and TV programmes, and has a particular fascination with the psychology of serial killers.
Sally loves to hear from her readers, so do feel free to get in touch via her website www.sallyrigby.com
Copyright © 2019 by Sally Rigby
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This story is a work of fiction. All names, characters, organisations or places, events and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any persons, alive or dead, events or locals is almost entirely coincidental.
Edited by Emma Mitchell of @ Creating Perfection.
Cover Design by Stuart Bache of Books Covered
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Chapter One
Sunday, 9 June
Detective Chief Inspector Whitney Walker sucked in a breath and let off six successive shots at the target facing her. It was impossible to see how accurate she’d been from where she stood, but she was confident she hadn’t missed.
‘Cease fire,’ the instructor shouted at the ten officers lined up in the individual booths of the shooting range.
She’d spent the last three days on a firearms training course, and today was
their final assessment. She had a good eye when shooting, and even though she rarely used it in her job, she made sure to keep up to date.
She was hoping to finish early so she could get in an extra visit to her mum and brother, Rob, both of whom had recently moved into care facilities following her mum’s dementia diagnosis several months ago, which meant she couldn’t look after her brother who had brain damage and was unable to fend for himself. Whitney resented having to move them, but her job made being a full-time carer impossible. The guilt was horrendous, but she knew they were in the right places.
‘Don’t move while I check your targets,’ Ray, their trainer, yelled.
She pulled out her phone to see if she’d missed any messages, as her phone had been on silent. There was one from her Detective Sergeant, Matt Price. Please call. Urgent.
Damn. It had to be serious if he was messaging. He’d never been one to overdramatise or panic.
‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ she said to Jeff, the guy in the next booth, as she hurried past him and made her way out of the range.
She pushed open the side door leading to the training centre’s car park, and once outside, she called Matt.
‘It’s me,’ she said when he answered.
‘Sorry to bother you, guv. A teenage boy’s been found dead on a train. Knife attack.’