“Claire is breathing on her own again,” the nurse assures me. “We’re weaning her off the sedation now. The only thing we are worried about is potential brain damage. It’s always a risk after head trauma. Once we’ve spoken to her, we’ll be better placed to establish that.”
“Thank God.” I lean back into my pillows. I could weep with relief. I am exhausted, but at least Claire is alive. Thoughts of Lauren hit me. There was no one around to save her. Which is why she now lies, lifeless in a coffin, wearing her wedding dress.
I squint in the dawn sunshine as a breakfast trolley jangles around the ward.
“Can I get you something sir?”
I must get my strength up if I’m going to feel better, so ask for a cup of tea and a slice of toast. I’ve barely eaten a thing in the last twenty-four hours. I turn towards my TV screen. DCI Ingham’s face is all over it, along with a still of the scene where we rescued Claire from last night. It’s the BBC national news that I’m watching, I guess that means he will still get picked up if he gets further afield. I hope they get him soon. Before he attacks someone else.
I never saw the evil in his eyes before. His expression bears the trace of a sneer and chills me right through. I can’t believe how much this one man has wrecked my life. I wonder if he has got away with any other killings before the river deaths, whilst masquerading behind his guise as a Detective Chief Inspector. In my mind I echo what Chris said yesterday, how did he ever get to where he is?
“What are you watching that for?” I turn to Brenda’s voice. “Aren’t you suffering enough without seeing his face? I, for one, don’t want to see it ever again.” She pulls up the chair beside my bed. “Hanging should be brought back, if you ask me.”
“In this case Brenda, I agree with you.” I turn my head to her, the movement still making me wince. “Where’s Mum?”
“We’ve both been up for most of the night. When we got the call to say they were taking Claire down to theatre, she wanted to come back here but they told her to stay where she was.”
“I’m surprised she listened.”
“She needed a bit of a talking to. We couldn’t have done any more good pacing the hospital waiting room than we could have done pacing around at your house.”
“Where did she sleep?”
“She didn’t. Well she got her head down for a couple of hours on the sofa. Look Mark, I know you and your mother have had your issues, but she does love you a great deal, you know.”
“It’s a shame she doesn’t know how to show it.”
Brenda reaches for my hand. “I’m so glad you’re safe.” Tears fill her eyes. “It’s tearing me in two that my daughter has been murdered. I’ll never be the same. Part of me has gone with her. But if Alysha had lost both of her parents. It doesn’t bear thinking about.”
“I know. Up until yesterday, part of me wanted to go, and be with her, but the attack last night provoked a fight in me that showed how much I have to go on, for Alysha’s sake.” I feel guilty for thinking like I was thinking before.
“It’s what Lauren would want,” Brenda says softly. “You’ve got to live for the two of you now. He’s done you good and proper, hasn’t he? Evil bastard.” Brenda never swears. “Look at the state of you.”
“Is my mum coming in again?”
“Now that Claire is stable, she’s gone to see Alysha and Will and get a shower. Then she’s coming back. So you’ll just have to put up with me looking after you.”
I don’t tell her that suits me fine and I’d rather have her here than my own mother. I’m surprised she came so quickly to be with Claire. She has been on the outskirts of our lives since we lost our brother. She should have gone for counselling. It is as though she’s closed herself off to everything and everybody. And she has lost so much from doing so. She could have had the relationship with Alysha that Brenda has.
Brenda sits at my side, either talking about Lauren or lapsing into a comfortable silence for over an hour until the doctors get to me on their ward round. I’m not really up to making much conversation, but I’m happy to have her here. I persuade the doctors I’m good to go, and Brenda assures them that she’ll look after me. I promise to return if there’s any more sickness or dizziness. The bright blue stitches in my head will dissolve, I’m told. Brenda helps me get out of the hospital pyjamas and into the clothes she has brought for me.
“I can’t believe you’re having to help me dress,” I laugh.
“Let me look after you,” she says. “We’re family. We always will be.”
I’m reassured by that. I might have lost my beloved Lauren, but she has left me the wonderful gift of our daughter, and her mother. In many ways I think more of Brenda than I do my own mother. Many blokes despise their mothers-in-law, but I have been really blessed with mine. My eyes fill with tears at the thought of her being unable to see her daughter wearing the beautiful gown she’s currently dressed in.
“Do you think you’ll go and see Lauren at the funeral home?” I sink to the bed, exhausted from getting dressed. God, I hope I soon get back to normal.
“No. I definitely just want to remember her as she was. It’ll crucify me to see her – gone. Especially in her wedding dress.”
Claire has been moved to the high dependency unit. She is not out of the woods yet, after being operated on overnight, but she’s stable. Her anaesthetic has worn off, but we have been told not to allow her to speak. Brenda and I sit either side of her. Mum arrives back. The three of us take it in turns holding her hands while Claire sleeps.
“Is there any news on Ingham yet?”
Mum shakes her head, unable to take her eyes off Claire. “Look what he’s done to her. If I could only get my hands on him.”
“How do you think I feel?” Brenda’s voice is so quiet, I wonder if Mum would have heard her at the other side of the bed.
Mum raises her tear-stained face from Claire to Brenda. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound insensitive. You know, that my girl survived it, whilst yours…”
“Leave it Mum.” Mum and Will were definitely cut from the same piece of cloth when it comes to tact.
“If all this has shown me anything,” Mum continues. “It is that I want to be here for you all more. I might even move closer.”
I don’t know how to react to this announcement. I don’t know what to think. Right now, I cannot think straight anyway.
Claire’s eyes widen when she briefly wakes and sees me. I sense she wants to remark on my bruising and blooded head, but I stop her before she tries.
“I don’t look as bad as you sis.” I stroke the top of her hand. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be in here with you last night. I was too busy throwing my guts up. Concussion.”
She smiles weakly and nods, the movement clearly hurting her. At least she understands. Hopefully, that negates the chance of major brain damage. She turns her head to the other side and Mum squeezes her hand.
“Your op has gone really well by all accounts.” Mum smiles through newly emerging tears. “They’ve done what they needed to, and it’s just a question of getting some rest now. You had a lucky escape.”
“I don’t know what you were thinking, walking…” I begin.
“Leave it.” Brenda frowns at me.
“I’m so glad you’re OK.” I grab for Claire’s hand. Tears fill my eyes now.
Claire’s eyes are full of questions.
“Get some rest love.” Mum gets to her feet. “We will go for a coffee, then we will be back.”
“We will talk about it all as soon as you’re up to it sis. I’ll ask the nurse to come in and check you over. We won’t be long.”
Chapter Forty Four
Despite Brenda’s protestations, I head to the station the following afternoon. Chris has texted me to let me know they still haven’t found Ingham and there’s going to be another briefing. I cannot just sit here, waiting. I have to help find him.
The search for DCI Ingham is now a full-scale national manhunt. I ju
st pray they get him before he kills someone else and robs another family like he has mine and so many others.
I take a taxi to the station, having decided not to risk driving. My head is still sore, but I no longer feel exhausted, even though I think I slept even worse last night than I have for any night since Lauren died, I’m just tender. I have got to find out what’s going on and join in the search, if they will let me. Claire is going to be in hospital for a few more days, so other than visiting her, she doesn’t need me. Chris also said in his text that Denise should be discharged before the end of the week.
I need to get justice. For Denise, and for Lauren and Claire. As well as all his other victims. Alysha is still with Will and Eva, that’s if Will is actually there and not at work, and Brenda has got my mother for company. They were both driving me mental when I got home yesterday; from not bothering with us for months, my mother has taken to being critical of me for Alysha not being there, me drinking too much and the state of the house. And that is when she is not crying over what has happened to Claire and Lauren. Then in between time, she goes on about what happened to Dean and what nearly happened to Will. She is planning to stay until after the funeral. Then she is going home to put her house on the market. After the funeral. The words cut me like glass.
Therefore, work is my preferred place to be. And I reckon that this is the day we are going to get Ingham.
“Right,” DI Jones stands and looks around the room. “Firstly Mark, you shouldn’t be here. I’m beginning to think you’re the bionic man.” A titter echoes around the room.
“I have to be here Sir, especially now. It’ll take more than him to finish me off.”
“I understand. But you must take it easy. But it goes without saying how much your help is appreciated.”
Hear, hear, echoes around the room. I couldn’t be more heartened. Chris who is sat next to me, pats me on the shoulder.
“OK.” DI Jones glances down at some notes. “This is where we’re at. There’s been a police patrol at DCI Ingham’s house and at his sister’s house. We believe that to be the only family he has. His information has been circulated to all ports and airports so he can’t get out of the country. His ex-wife’s house has been visited, but there’s no reply. There is a patrol there as well.”
“Can we not force entry Sir?”
“We’ll have the warrant through at any moment,” DI Jones replies. “The judge mucked up the paperwork so I put another request in first thing. We’ve checked through all the windows and couldn’t see anything.”
“Not another cock up.” Sergeant Donaldson’s loud voice bounces around the incident room. “As if there haven’t been enough already.
“To be fair.” DI Jones looks at him. “It’s highly unlikely we’ll turn anything up his ex-wife’s house. But we must obviously cover everything.”
“Who’s going when you get it?”
“At least half a dozen of us.”
“You just said it’s unlikely that we’ll turn anything up there?”
“Just in case. You never know.”
“What about his car?” Paula’s voice sounds from the back of the room.
“Parked up outside his own house,” DI Jones replies. “A team of officers have been checking out CCTV and logs with taxi ranks and car hire companies.”
“I can’t see him risking being recognised on public transport.” The effort of speaking tugs on my stitches. “His face is all over the place.”
“How’s your sister today?” Hutton asks.
“I haven’t seen her yet. She’s still being guarded - until we get him, presumably?”
“Yes.” DI Jones nods. “There’s two constables with her at all times, and with the other lady, Denise.”
“They were bloody lucky.” Chris looks at DI Jones. “Is that all, Sir? Can we get on with bringing him in?”
“Today’s the day.” DI Jones thumps the table with the heel of his hand. Which is exactly what I just thought.
Warrant in hand, DI Jones leads the six-strong team to the front door of the non-descript terraced house. I’ve been ordered to stay in one of the cars, locked in. I watch as he knocks, and others peer in through the windows. I feel utterly useless but would be no match for Ingram if he is in there and sets about me. I feel better than I did, but God knows what damage another blow to the head would do. I’m not going to risk it. I wind the window down to hear what’s going on.
DI Jones gives a nod and two of the team begin smashing at the door. It gives after four attempts with the battering ram. “Police!” They all rush in. I can see them through the windows, darting around the house, opening cupboards, kicking doors open. I’m glad I’m here with them, albeit watching from the car. I need to be here, for Lauren and for Claire. I would have been climbing the walls at the station, waiting for news on my own.
Everything falls silent for a few moments and I can’t see anyone. What’s going on?
Minutes pass and I wonder what or who they’ve found. Then, DI Jones emerges from the house. “We’ve found his wife.” His grim-faced expression bears a trace of relief. “In the basement.”
“Is she…”
“She’s fine. He’s been taking food and water to her – well, up until two days ago that is. She’s been there for nearly a fortnight. To say she was relieved to hear us shout police is an understatement. She burst into tears when we found her.”
“That would tie in with him going on the run after I recognised him two nights ago.”
“I’ve rung an ambulance. She needs checking over. I’ve said we’ll visit her - to ask her some questions as soon as she’s up to it.”
I hear the siren in the distance. As the ambulance pulls up behind us, DCI Ingham’s wife is coming out from the house, helped along by Chris and Hutton. She doesn’t look too bad to say she’s spent all that time locked in a cellar. The paramedics meet her on the path.
“Let’s get you inside the ambulance,” one of them says. “And have a look at you.”
“I just need to let this gentleman know something first.” She walks over to DI Jones. “He, Jonathan, I mean, overheard me on the phone last Sunday. Arranging to meet a reporter.”
“A news reporter?” DI Jones glances at me. A Sunday. A news reporter.
“Yes. We were meeting at the café near the river. I couldn’t go to the police because of my ex-husband. I needed to tell someone what I had found out. But he locked me in the basement to go after her.”
“And what had you found out?” DI Jones asks.
“I think this will have to wait,” says the paramedic. “This lady needs medical attention before answering your questions.”
“That he knew who was responsible for the women in the river,” she mumbles before the paramedic takes her arm. “But he’s been covering.”
“So it wasn’t…”
“I only found out in the middle of the night on Saturday when he turned up.”
“You’re not doing this now.” The paramedic guides her by the arm. “We need to get you to hospital.”
“We’ll be along shortly to speak to you.”
“I’m fine. Just tired. And in need of a shower and a decent meal. Come and see me in a couple of hours.”
DI Jones drops me off at Will’s, promising to pick me back up in two hours. I need to see Alysha.
“Daddy, what’s wrong with your face? And your head?”
“Daddy’s fine. I pull her onto my lap. It happened at work.” I listen to Eva, clanking around in the kitchen, making me something to eat. She said Will stormed out half an hour ago. She’d heard him shouting on the phone with someone and had challenged him. He’d had a go at her too, then slammed out of the house. I guess all this must be getting to him more than he lets on.
“Why? Was it a bad man? Have you told the other police Daddy?”
“Yes. Something like that. He’s going to get caught now.” Though I wonder what DCI Ingham’s wife meant when she said he was covering. It makes little s
ense.
“Will he go to prison?” Alysha’s half speaking to me and half concentrating on some rubbish on the TV. Heidi is glued to whatever it is. She glanced at me when I walked in, but that was about it. She’s always been more for her Auntie Lauren. She adored her.
“Yes. For a very long time.”
I bury my face into her hair, inhaling her innocent smell and am beyond grateful she has stayed here. I’ve been in no state to care for her. I’ve been too wrapped up in my own grief and vengeance.
“I’m sick of the sight of this place,” I say as DI Jones pulls into the police parking bay at the hospital.
“I bet you are. We won’t be staying too long. They’re keeping Mrs Ingham in for observation. She’s dehydrated and had a blow to the head, which has resulted in a mild concussion.”
“It’s probably for the best that she’s being kept in. At least she’s safe in here. With Ingham still out there somewhere.”
“If she’s discharged before we catch him, I’ll either put a uniform presence there or get her into a safe house.”
“I’m sure we’ll have him well before we have to think about that.”
I nod to the constable standing at the entrance to the ward. We’re shown to the side room where Patricia is laid on her own. We walk past a meal trolley and the smell of boiled cabbage turns my stomach.
“Hello again Mrs, erm Patricia. Is it OK for us to call you by your first name?” I can’t bear to say the word Ingham.
“Call me Pat.” She offers her hand.
“You’ll hopefully remember us from the house,” I begin. “I’m Sergeant Potts and this is DI Jones.”
“How are you feeling?” DI Jones briefly grasps her hand in response. “We won’t stay long. We were hoping for any more information you have. If you’re feeling up to it?”
“Of course. Get yourselves sat down.”
The Yorkshire Dipper Page 25