Dead Inside
Page 20
Curiosity soon got the better of her. The inside pages looked like they’d been written by a child. Hearts adorned various pages and VICKI + M was littered about the surface. Shell scanned the notebook until she got to the last few weeks before Vicki’s assault. Open-mouthed, she read as Vicki described feelings of desperation. ‘M’ shoving her, shouting at her, and at one point punching her so hard in the arm it left a bruise.
Reading on she noticed that Vicki was making excuses for M’s behaviour. and alarm bells began to ring. Shell pocketed the notebook. She needed to prove who ‘M’ was, before taking this to the police. And Shell knew exactly who might be able to give her the information she needed.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
Maggie smiled as she continued her probing line of questioning; she had Mick O’Dowd bang to rights. ‘Mr O’Dowd, where were you between the hours of four o’clock and eight o’clock last night?’
Maggie waited as Mick looked at his solicitor who nodded. ‘I was at The Smith’s Forge. I’m not sure what time I arrived, but it wasn’t long after I picked up my dole money. That would have been about three that afternoon. You can check my bank statement.’
‘No need for that right now. Do you always go to The Smith’s Forge on a Thursday?’ Maggie leaned forward.
‘No, not always. It’s a busy night, darts club, and normally I just like a quiet drink.’
She lifted the pen she was holding to her mouth. ‘So how come you decided on this particular day to go to a pub that you usually avoid on a Thursday?’
Before Mick could answer, his solicitor interrupted. ‘What are you implying, DC Jamieson?’
‘I’m not implying anything, Mr McCabe. It is a legitimate question. I just find it odd that Mr O’Dowd happens to go to a pub, on a busy night that he generally avoids, on the exact same night that his girlfriend gets seriously assaulted. Don’t you think that’s odd, Mr McCabe? A pretty big coincidence?’
Maggie could see Mick’s knuckles whitening on the edge of the table. Mick leaned over to his brief and she thought she heard him whisper, ‘Do I have to answer these questions? I’m getting pissed off now.’
‘Sorry? What was that Mr O’Dowd?’ A hint of a smile grew on Maggie’s face. ‘Could you speak up?’
Mick fidgeted in his seat. The solicitor answered for him. ‘I’m instructing my client to answer no comment. You’re on a fishing expedition and going in circles. Do you have any evidence to support what you’re insinuating, DC Jamieson?’
‘I’m not insinuating anything. I’m being thorough. Asking questions. Doing my job. Are you saying that Mr O’Dowd is now refusing to answer any further questions?’ Maggie looked across at Mark. ‘Seems like Mr O’Dowd is trying to hide something, would you agree?’
Mark nodded.
Mick suddenly slammed the table with the palms of his hands. ‘Fuck this shit. How many fucking times do I have to say this? She wasn’t my girlfriend! Either charge me or let me go! I’m not answering anymore of your stupid questions!’
Maggie and Mark knew they didn’t have enough to charge Mick in relation to the assault on Vicki Wilkinson yet. Instead, he was charged with affray and criminal damage and released on bail with a GPS tagging condition. At least they could track his movements. Maggie and Mark escorted the pair to the custody suite, where bail would be sorted out, and then they made their way back to the office.
‘There’s something just not right about his story, Mark. I’m not liking this one bit! His fingerprints were all over Vicki’s place. He had cuts on his knuckles. Hopefully we’ll find some of Vicki’s DNA when the lab results come back. In the meantime, we need to search the area around his property. He may have dumped something on his way to the pub.’
‘Officers are on that already. They’ll update us if they find anything. I can’t be sure, but these current charges may be enough to get him recalled. I’ll give Lucy a call and find out.’
‘Good plan. I don’t want this prick to get away with this.’
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
After learning of Vicki’s assault and Patrick’s arrest, Lucy’s head was a mess. She didn’t know whether to call Patrick first and hear his side of the story, or call the DAHU and speak to Mark. She didn’t want to be blindsided if any questions were asked. No doubt the police would be looking for a recall on Mick, but that would depend on the charges and whether the police had remanded him in custody. Lucy knew if Mick O’Dowd was charged with the assault on Vicki, however, that could lead to a serious further offence investigation and awkward questions might be asked, given that Mick had been arrested after starting a fight with her husband. Fuck! How the hell did Patrick end up in all this?
Patrick would still be in bed at this time and, not wanting to deal with him, she contacted the police station. If she appeared vague and didn’t offer any information, they might not immediately realize that Patrick was her husband.
‘Domestic Abuse and Homicide Unit, DC Maggie Jamieson speaking, how can I help?’
‘Hi, Maggie, it’s Lucy. Is Mark about? I have a message to call your team.’
‘Oh, hi! Good timing. No need to speak with Mark – I can tell you what you need to know and hopefully you can help us out.’
Damn. Lucy’s friendship with Mark meant that he’d sometimes share additional information. ‘Sure thing, Maggie. I heard that Mick O’Dowd has been arrested.’
‘Yes, he was, but he has been bailed with GPS tagging. We’ve charged him with criminal damage and affray, but it’s unlikely the affray will stick as both Mick and the other injured party don’t want to press charges. We’re still waiting for further evidence to connect him to the assault on Vicki Wilkinson, but what we really wanted to know is whether he can be recalled?’
‘Erm … tough one. Given that you have him tagged and based on the information you have just shared with me, I’m not convinced the Parole Board would feel he is enough of a risk. They’ll view that the tag will keep him indoors and he’ll be monitored by the police. I trust there are conditions to keep away from the victim of the affray? Is it a female? Sorry for all the questions, I need to get as much information as I possibly can, so I can discuss it with my line manager.’ Lucy realized her hand was shaking. ‘In all honestly, with prison overcrowding, it’s unlikely my boss will agree on this one.’
‘Well what about the serious assault on Vicki Wilkinson? Who manages Vicki’s case?’
‘Sarah Hardy, but I’d still be responsible for Mick’s recall. Has he been charged with anything in relation to that?’ Lucy was getting worried now; if two people who she worked with on her caseload were involved in serious matters, it meant more stress. Once they learnt that her husband was involved in the affray, they may want to investigate further. Lucy wasn’t ready to disclose what had been happening at home.
‘Not yet. There’s not enough evidence, but the investigation is ongoing.’
‘Same situation then, I’m afraid, Maggie. Can you account for his whereabouts?’
‘He says he was at The Smith’s Forge during the time of the assault. We’re speaking to witnesses to corroborate that information. He also said he and Vicki saw you earlier in the day. We’ll need to discuss that.’
‘Of course. I did send the home visit information over to the police group email and spoke briefly to Mark about that.’ Lucy closed her eyes and hoped Maggie couldn’t hear the tension in her voice.
‘Ah, OK. Crossed wires, I guess. I’ll have a look and come back to you if I need anything else. Are you OK, Lucy? Only, you sound a bit funny.’
‘Uh, no … I’m fine.’ Wanting to change the subject Lucy asked, ‘So what was the affray about? Do you know any details?’
‘I’ll scan over the charge sheet, you can have a read. In fact, can we drop by at some point to have a chat about O’Dowd and Wilkinson? My gut is telling me he was involved; I just don’t have anything on him and it’s frustrating the hell out of me. You might be able to help. One of us will call you to confirm.’
‘My diary is clear in the afternoons for the next few weeks, just let me know when you are coming in case I have to move something about. Is that OK?’
‘That’s great. We’ll be sure to let you know when we’re coming. See you soon.’
Lucy hung up the phone and dropped it onto her desk. She needed to speak to Patrick, and to her boss. It felt like her two worlds were coming together and the collision would be disastrous.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
With her Saturday morning jobs finished, Shell wasted no time heading to The Smith’s Forge to speak to Kevin Pearson. Shell knew that if anyone could confirm that Vicki was seriously involved with Mick, it would be Kevin.
The pub had the usual weekend faces dotted about, but thankfully wasn’t too busy. Shell didn’t want anyone to tip off Mick that she was asking questions. ‘Hey, Kevin. How’s things?’
‘Well look who it is!? Been a bit on the quiet side without you here lately! All loved-up, are you?’ Kevin let out a burst of laughter and Shell couldn’t help but join in.
‘Yeah, I’ve been otherwise occupied.’ Shell winked.
‘Right … I knew it! Anyone I know?’
‘Maybe … maybe not. But I’m actually hoping you could help me out a bit.’
‘I can try. What are you needing?’
‘Have you heard that our Vicki was attacked a few nights ago?’
‘I did. Sorry, I should’ve asked how she is.’
‘Thanks. Not too good, Kevin. Her face was mashed to a pulp, and she was barely breathing when I found her—’
‘Whoa! You found her? Shit, that must have been horrible.’
‘It was. She’s still not out of the woods though. She’s stable, but in a coma.’
‘Do the police have any idea who did it?’
‘They suspect it was a robbery gone wrong. Her place was torn to pieces, ransacked. But they won’t tell me anything more than that.’ She didn’t mention Mick – the less people know, the better.
‘Sounds like it could have been more than one person. Maybe one beat her while the other trashed the place.’
Shell shuddered at the thought. ‘Don’t know, Kevin. Guess we won’t know until they arrest someone, or until Vicki wakes up.’
‘Well if you do go and see her, will you tell her I was thinking of her?’
‘Of course, Kevin. When was the last time you saw her?’
‘Hmmm … well since she cut down the booze and hooked up with that fella of hers, it’s been a while. Couldn’t say for sure though. Might be days, could be a week or more.’
‘Did you know the fella she was with?’
‘Yeah. I do.’ Kevin leaned in closer. ‘He could be a right prick. New to the area. I think you had words with him one night. That rough-looking fella – thin, pointy nose. Only been here a few months – from London …’
‘Do you have a name?’ Shell shifted on the stool.
‘Oh right.’ Kev laughed. ‘I think it was Nick … or Mick … hang on … gimme a minute.’
Shell tapped her foot impatiently as Kevin walked up and down the bar, trying to remember. She knew that kicking off wasn’t going to make him any faster.
Kevin suddenly smiled. ‘Mick. It was definitely Mick. Not sure of the last name though, but he comes in here often, mainly on Tuesdays and Fridays. He sometimes pops round during the day. I don’t think he works … He was arrested here the other night.’
‘Really? What for?’
‘He kicked off with that Patrick fella – that guy you know. Tallish, good-looking – dark hair.’
Shell’s heart was racing.
‘Anything else?’
‘The police arrested both of them and took my statement. They haven’t been in touch with me since, so I can’t really add anything else. What I will say is that I didn’t notice Mick was here until later on in the evening. It was unusual to see him—’
‘Wait. Why unusual?’
‘Like I told you, he mainly comes in on a Tuesday or Friday. Thursday is darts night and we’re generally packed. Probably why I missed him arriving.’
‘And he was fighting with Patrick? Patrick Quinn?’
‘Is that his last name? The fella I’ve seen you chatting to a few times.’
‘Do you know what the fight was about?’
‘Well, that Mick fella had said some nasty words about Patrick’s missus.’ He looked around nervously and lowered his voice. ‘He grabbed Patrick by the shoulder and said he’d show her what a real man could do, or something like that. Patrick didn’t seem to like that and spouted something back.’ Clearly enjoying spilling the gossip, he smiled. ‘They fought, broke the front window, knocked over a few tables and chairs and I called the police.’
‘Thanks. That’s helpful. If you think of anything else, call me. Doesn’t matter what time it is. OK?’ Shell wrote down her number on a napkin and handed it to him.
Making her way to her car, Shell found it hard to breathe. Fumbling with her keys, her hands shook as she unlocked the car door. She needed to sit down and catch her breath.
Why the hell was Patrick defending Lucy? Had she been played for a fool all this time?
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
Mick had spent the day drinking in his flat. The tag meant he couldn’t leave after 6 p.m., so he went out early, grabbed some lager and settled on his couch watching TV. He felt a breeze on the back of his neck and looked over his shoulder to the open window behind him. He pulled up the collar on his shirt. Couldn’t be arsed with getting up and closing it. Put his feet up on the table and cracked a can, flicked through the channels. Eventually sleep took over.
The crash on the floor woke him. What the fuck was that? Mick looked around but it was pitch-black. He had to wait as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He saw the ashtray from the windowsill smashed on the floor. The window was wide open and it was freezing cold. Mick got up to have a closer look and stepped carefully over the broken ashtray. He thought he heard a creaking floorboard, and turned towards the kitchen. Nothing. Probably just his neighbours. He closed the window and bent to pick up the larger pieces of glass. Something plunged into his neck.
He tried to scream but a gloved hand clamped his mouth shut from behind. Mick struggled to reach his neck, but his hand was too heavy. As the liquid surged through his veins, he felt his body crumple and he landed like a piece of lead on the floor, facedown.
‘Well we can’t have that, now, can we, Mick?’ He didn’t recognize the voice. ‘I need to see that pretty face of yours.’
The figure grunted as they turned him over. The shadowy figure was padded out in a black bomber jacket, black hoodie, a mask and combat boots. Mick felt sick to his stomach. He was afraid that if he puked, he would choke on his own vomit. He couldn’t move a single muscle, but could feel everything. His eyes darted around the room, afraid that if he lost sight of the person, they would land another kick in his side. His chest tightened with fear.
‘Think I’ll have a look around your flat, Mick. You don’t mind, do you?’ The hooded figure laughed. Mick was screaming inside, as loud as he could, but there was nothing … no sound left his body.
The shadow stepped over him, and Mick strained his eyes to watch them head towards his kitchen. He knew it was filthy, but now wasn’t the time to worry or care. His attacker didn’t stay in there long, before they went in the direction of the bedroom. He could feel a tingle in his foot.
A small yelp escaped his lips when the figure returned. They placed the lighter fluid from his dresser into their pocket. Then he noticed the wooden truncheon in their other hand. They began smacking their hand with the truncheon and Mick could see the glint of pleasure in their eye as they said, ‘Mick! You ready? I think we’re about to have some fun.’
His vision blurred as he thought about his children and
how they would never know how much he missed them.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
Maggie ended the call and raced into Calleja’s office. A nervous sweat glistened on her brow under the glow of the police station’s artificial lighting.
‘I don’t like the look on your face, Jamieson.’ Calleja looked up and frowned.
‘You shouldn’t. There’s been another body found. Mick O’Dowd.’
Calleja pulled up the list of nominals from the police database. ‘For fuck’s sake! He’s that transfer in from London. What the hell is going on here?’
‘Police are already at the property, but from what I gather, there are definitely similarities to the Millard and Talbot cases. It’s not looking good; the media will soon be all over this with their serial killer theories. We need to catch this guy soon.’
‘Have you told the rest of the team?’
‘Briefly. Thought you’d want to speak with everyone.’
‘OK. Let me think.’ The DI stood up and began to pace the room. Maggie watched him move back and forth.
‘I’ll get in touch with probation. See what information they have. We can match that up with anything we have on our system and identify any patterns between the three crimes. Kate has also been working on her profile and we can look at any associates. That sort of thing.’
‘Yes, you or Mark do that. Do we know anything more about the body?’
‘Beaten pretty badly. No defence wounds. Seems a Taser and another weapon was used. His throat was cut just like Talbot’s and Millard’s. Oh … and his face, hands, and genitals were set alight.’
‘What the hell? Who found him?’
‘A resident was on their way back home and cut through his garden. He noticed the side door slightly ajar and, when he looked through, smelled what turned out to be burning flesh. Said he thought someone was having a barbecue inside the house. He called the emergency services right away.’