Dead Man's Daughter

by Roz Watkins

  ‘You do get scandals about brain-dead patients waking up every now and then,’ I said. ‘I read about a young lad – in Leicester, I think. Four doctors pronounced him brain-dead and then he sat up. Or something like that. So I’d imagine parents are unwilling to accept a diagnosis of brain death.’

  ‘What if something corrupt was going on? Phil knew Abbie could die while waiting for a transplant, so he bribed the doctors or something . . . I don’t know . . . to declare a kid brain-dead when maybe she could recover. What if that happened to the donor child? Maybe Rachel didn’t know at the time, but she found out and was really angry, and called Phil a murderer and Abbie overheard the conversation. That could have triggered her nightmares.’

  ‘The donor child wasn’t properly dead?’

  ‘It’s possible,’ Jai said.

  ‘Are you thinking the donor child’s parents could have found out what happened?’

  ‘It would be a motive, wouldn’t it?’

  After a few more miles of climbing, the sat-nav told us to take a right.

  ‘Really? Up there?’ Jai pulled onto the side road. It had been cleared by a snow plough and we drove between walls of snow so high we couldn’t see the fields. Jai flipped the wipers onto fast – fat flakes were coating the windscreen.

  I checked my phone as we travelled deeper into nowhere. ‘No mobile signal. Do we even know this is where Fiona went?’

  ‘It’s not like her to go charging off like that,’ Jai said.

  I felt a heaviness in my chest. ‘I shouldn’t have snapped at her. I can’t believe I did that, after she’d stuck up for me. And I shouldn’t have shouted at Craig.’

  ‘It was still their decision to go, Meg. Don’t beat yourself up.’

  We arrived at a surprising hamlet, beyond which the snow plough hadn’t ventured. We had no choice but to stop – we’d get no further in the car. The sat-nav told us we’d reached our destination, but there was no sign of the place we were looking for – Coldwater Farm.

  ‘We’d better ask someone,’ I said.

  ‘Rather you than me. It’s like bloody Deliverance up here. If it wasn’t so cold they’d be out with banjos.’

  I glanced around. The local pub did indeed look like darts might stop in mid-air at the sight of us, but a tiny shop shone a welcoming light.

  ‘I’ll ask in there.’ I fought the swirling snow and tramped my way to the shop. The door pinged. A saggy-faced woman was lodged behind the counter as if she’d grown there like a mushroom. She gave me a suspicious look.

  I smiled at her. ‘I’m after Coldwater Farm.’

  ‘What’s going on? I’ve already had one young lassie asking after that place. I told her not to go up there. Is there a problem?’

  ‘Why did you tell her not to go up there?’

  ‘The man that lives there’s dangerous. I never liked him. He’s been in prison before. And since his wife moved out, well . . . ’

  ‘What’s he been doing?’

  ‘Talk is he killed his daughter. What’s this about?’

  ‘Who said that?’

  I could sense the shutters coming down. ‘What’s this about?’

  I flashed my ID. ‘We need to talk to him. Who said he killed his daughter?’

  She folded her arms and her body seemed to solidify. ‘It’s just gossip. I can’t remember.’

  ‘Did she turn back then, the lassie, do you know?’

  ‘I don’t rightly know. I hope so.’

  ‘Where’s the house?’

  ‘Up the lane a couple of hundred yards and down the track to the right. You’ll have to walk it though. You’ll not get any further in the car today.’

  ‘Have you seen a man at all? Looking for Coldwater Farm?’

  ‘No. What’s this about? What’s going on? You have to tell me. We have children here.’

  I headed for the door, calling back, ‘Thank you, you’ve been a great help.’

  I could hear her shouting at me as I stomped back to Jai. The wind was getting up and the snow was already piling against the side of the car. I wrenched the door open and climbed in.

  ‘Try Fiona’s mobile again, Jai.’

  ‘I can’t get a signal. Nothing at all.’

  ‘Shit. The woman in the shop said Nick Norwood’s been inside. Did we not find that?’

  ‘We weren’t exactly looking at him, were we? He’s the donor child’s father. Nothing to do with Phil Thornton other than that.’

  ‘We should have picked that up if it’s true,’ I grumbled. ‘And there’s rumours in the village he killed his daughter. She told Fiona to go back. I hope to God she did.’ I pointed up the lane ahead of us. ‘Up the lane and on the right, but we won’t get any further now in the car.’

  ‘We’d better go and have a look. I don’t know how we’re getting out of here now anyway.’

  ‘Not much point calling for back-up either.’

  We left the car at the side of the lane and set off towards the farmhouse. Jai brought cuffs, just in case.

  A track led off to the right. It looked like the snow had been cleared earlier but had built up again. The farmhouse sat in a small dip.

  ‘Uh oh,’ Jai said. ‘Craig must have driven down there before the snow piled up again. His car’s by the house.’

  25.

  I fished out my phone. Zero signal. Should we radio for backup? A car wouldn’t get there. I imagined Richard’s apoplexy if we blew a helicopter-sized hole in his budget on this. And we’d get Fiona into trouble. And Craig who, whilst he clearly was a shit-head, had gone after Fiona even though he must have been angry with her. ‘Let’s walk down there,’ I said. ‘Check everything’s okay.’

  The track was icy and rutted under the snow, which was forming a drift against a dry stone wall to our left.

  ‘Who’s idea was this again?’ Jai said.

  I slipped. ‘Shit. Ow. God, I always end up hurting this bloody ankle.’

  ‘Are you okay? Do you want to wait here?’

  ‘No, it’s fine. I’ll just limp a little worse than usual. Watch that bit though – there’s a hole.’

  We walked more slowly as we approached the farmhouse. All we could hear was the wind – the usual country sounds were muffled by the snow.

  ‘Can’t see any signs of life,’ I whispered.

  Jai froze. ‘What was that? I heard something? Is someone there?’

  We stood and listened. A snuffling noise.

  ‘Uh oh,’ I said. ‘An animal?’

  Jai took a step forward. ‘Is anyone there?’

  Something shot into view and tore towards us, sending snow flying up behind it.

  ‘Don’t run,’ I said, and grabbed Jai’s arm. ‘It’s a dog. Stand still.’

  It was hard to take my own advice as the thing hurtled in our direction, but there was no way we’d outrun it. It was a black Labrador. Not one of the cuddly ones – a huge, thick-necked beast with the muscles of a Rottweiler.

  The dog was a foot away from us and had its teeth bared.

  A yelp and the dog stopped. It shook its head violently, but didn’t move any closer to us.

  My heart was pounding. ‘I think it’s an invisible fence,’ I said. ‘Electric. Gives the dog a shock if it goes through. Horrible things.’

  ‘I’m kind of liking them.’ Jai’s breathing was loud beside me. ‘So, if we go through the fence, will we get a shock?’

  ‘No. The dog’s wearing a special collar. We might get bitten though.’

  ‘We’d better call for back-up.’

  ‘But look at the snow. And if Craig and possibly Fiona are in trouble . . . ’

  The dog whined and sloped off back towards the house.

  ‘Cross your arms,’ I said. ‘Don’t look at the dog. Come on.’

  I held my breath and walked smoothly forwards. The dog snapped its head round, then turned and ran towards me. I stood, ready to leap back through the invisible force field. But the dog sniffed me and wagged its tail. I let out my breath. />
  ‘Sometimes I think you’re nuts,’ Jai said.

  ‘Don’t worry. It’s like that old joke. If it does get vicious, you don’t have to outrun it, you only have to outrun me, which won’t be a challenge.’

  ‘Knowing you, it’d take a shine to you and rip me to shreds.’ But he followed me towards the house.

  I walked closer and peered through a grimy window into a living room. Worn sofas and a patterned carpet. Wood chip on the wall. No people. Six crushed cans of Special Brew and a whisky bottle on its side. A gun cabinet. Open. Empty.

  Jai was behind me. ‘I’m not keen on that dog,’ he said.

  ‘I’m not keen on that gun cabinet.’

  We crept through rapidly piling snow at the side of the house, accompanied by the dog. He was giving us the kind of grovelly friendship that can quickly turn to violence.

  Jai arrived first at a window at the back. Snow was banked against it, driven over the hills by the sideways wind. ‘Can’t see anything,’ he said. ‘The curtains are drawn.’

  I kicked my feet forwards into the snow and pressed my ear against the window. ‘I can hear voices. Was that Craig?’

  Jai shuffled into the snow and flattened his ear against the freezing glass. ‘Could be. Can’t hear over this bloody wind.’

  A hefty oak door sat mid-way along the back of the house. Jai shuffled towards it and gave it a shove. It opened, spilling snow onto the stone floor of a tiny back porch crammed with boots.

  I stepped into the porch and listened against a door which I guessed led into a kitchen.

  I knocked.

  No answer.

  I gave the door a push and stood aside.

  No shots.

  Craig’s voice. ‘Careful! He’s got a gun.’

  I inched forwards into a large kitchen which smelt of stale alcohol and wet dog. Plates and food remnants covered the counter-tops – old milk bottles, bean cans that hadn’t been washed out, a plastic container full of Chinese take-away, the noodles curling and yellow.

  Craig was on the far side of the room. His hands were bound behind his back, and he was slumped in a sitting position, leaning against a cast-iron kitchen range. ‘Bloody hell, Craig. Are you okay?’ I said. ‘Have you seen Fiona?’

  Craig shook his head, and gave me a warning look with his eyes.

  An aggressive voice. ‘Stop right there.’

  I spun round. A man stood in a doorway which seemed to lead into a hall. He had a black beard and wore khaki. He looked like the man in Abbie’s drawing. He was pointing a shotgun at Craig. He slurred his words. ‘Move any closer to him and I’ll shoot him. Or you. I might shoot you.’

  We didn’t even have our protective gear on. Jai was behind me. The man could shoot either of us.

  He poked the gun in my direction. ‘Step back to the door,’ he said.

  I stepped back to the door. I was now next to Jai. We were all arranged stiffly around the perimeter of the kitchen, as if we’d been flung apart by centrifugal force.

  The dog padded past us into the centre of the room and hesitated, as if unsure whether to approach its owner.

  The man waved the gun at Jai and me. ‘Who the fuck are you anyway?’

  ‘Mr Norwood?’ I spoke as calmly as I could, given that he appeared to be a deranged drunk with a gun. I could hear the shake in my voice. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Meg Dalton and this is my colleague DS Jai Sanghera.’

  ‘Bully for you.’ Norwood lurched a step towards us, then stopped himself and edged back to the doorway. ‘Why have you been saying I killed Scarlett? I didn’t kill her. I fucking loved her.’

  I could hear our breathing even over the wind outside. My eyes flicked from Craig to Norwood.

  ‘Saying that girl’s got her heart. Saying her daddy killed her . . . ’ He looked over at me and a spasm of vulnerability flicked across his face. ‘Has that girl got Scarlett’s heart?’

  ‘We’ve no reason to think that,’ I said.

  Norwood raised his gun an inch and pointed it directly at me. ‘Cos I fucking need to know. I never thought I wanted to know. People sending cards to each other and all that shit – we never wanted that. But now I need to know. So you’d better tell me.’

  ‘We don’t know!’ I said. ‘We don’t know who has Scarlett’s heart.’

  Norwood lowered the gun a little, but kept it angled so he could flick it up again quickly. ‘Tell me or I won’t say where your little friend is.’

  ‘Fiona?’ I whispered.

  ‘Who’s got her heart? Nobody tells me anything. Vanessa craps on to her Facebook friends, telling them every little detail of Scarlett’s life, but would she talk to me? Would she fuck.’

  ‘Have you got our colleague?’ Jai said.

  No response.

  The dog glanced at the gun and then walked over to Craig. It lifted its lip into a snarl. Craig struggled to his feet and I saw he was tied to the range behind him. The dog growled, and Craig shifted as if he might kick it.

  ‘Don’t you dare.’

  My head whirled round. Norwood had raised the gun and was now pointing it directly at Craig. It was remarkably still. He wasn’t so drunk after all. ‘Kick my dog and you’re dead.’

  Craig froze. The dog hesitated, then walked a couple of steps forward. It lifted its leg.

  ‘Oh Jesus Christ.’ Craig pulled away as much as he could but the range wouldn’t let him move far. The dog lifted its leg higher.

  ‘Get off!’ Craig kicked out, deliberately missing the dog. He shouted towards Norwood. ‘Get your dog off me!’

  I watched with horrified detachment as the dog raised its leg higher and peed on Craig’s trousers.

  ‘For Christ’s sake.’ Craig whipped his leg away but it was too late. His trousers were saturated from mid thigh to calf. He shook his leg again and again. ‘Bastard thing. Bloody thing.’ His voice was frantic. He wasn’t coping with this.

  ‘Oh my God,’ Norwood let out a single high-pitched note of laughter. He had prominent teeth. Like Abbie’s drawing. ‘That’s disgusting. Oh God, that’s horrible.’

  Craig shook his leg repeatedly. Desperately.

  ‘Come here, Spike.’ Norwood clicked his fingers. The dog hesitated, then sloped towards him, glancing up at the food- strewn counter as it passed.

  Norwood stroked the dog’s head. ‘Take your trousers off,’ he said. The laughter was gone and his voice was low and menacing. ‘They’re revolting.’

  Craig’s head shot up. ‘What?’

  ‘I said, take your trousers off. They stink. I want them out of my kitchen.’

  ‘No!’ Craig pulled against the range.

  Norwood raised the gun. ‘Take them off, or I’ll shoot you.’

  Jai said, ‘Just take your bloody trousers off, Craig.’

  ‘No.’ Craig pulled harder. ‘No.’

  I looked from Craig to Norwood. ‘He can’t! His hands are tied.’

  Norwood laughed again. ‘You do it for him then. Go on. His girlfriend can do it.’

  ‘You bastard!’ Craig yanked forwards. The range shifted forward a millimetre.

  ‘What’s your fucking problem?’ Norwood said. ‘Have you wet yourself too?’

  Craig let out a roar and pulled forwards with such force that the handle of the range broke off. He was free, but his hands were still tied.

  ‘Craig, no!’ I shouted.

  Craig stopped in the middle of the room, poised as if about to hurl himself at Norwood.

  ‘I mean it.’ Norwood pointed his gun at Craig. ‘Come any closer I’ll shoot you.’

  I could feel a vein pulsing beneath my eye. There was nothing we could do. If we lunged for Norwood, he’d shoot Craig. If we didn’t lunge for Norwood, it also looked like he’d shoot Craig. I could see his finger tight on the trigger. What the hell was the matter with Craig? Would he rather die than take his trousers off?

  Craig leaped towards Norwood, smashing his arms upwards. The gun flew off into a corner of the room. I took a step towards it.


  ‘Stop!’ Norwood bellowed. ‘One move towards that gun and I’ll set the dog on you.’

  We all froze. Norwood started backing out of the door.

  ‘Have you got our colleague?’ I said.

  ‘Shut up and stay where you are.’ Norwood held his palm towards the dog’s face, but he wasn’t touching it. ‘If I give him the command, he’ll rip your fucking throats out, one after the other.’

  Norwood was backing away. I didn’t want to let him go. Not without knowing where Fiona was.

  The dog crouched next to him, its lip raised into a snarl. Its eyes were yellow and cold. But it was a Labrador . . . I remembered its ambivalence about going to Norwood, the way it had glanced at the counter top.

  I looked into the dog’s eyes. My heart thudded.

  26.

  I grabbed the Chinese take-away carton and chucked it on the floor. Vegetables and noodles exploded over the tiles.

  The dog lunged forward and started hoovering up the food with a feverish enthusiasm. Craig, Jai and I jumped on Norwood and basically flattened him. Jai handcuffed him.

  ‘Chill the fuck out,’ Norwood grunted. ‘I haven’t got your little mate. I didn’t see anyone until Dog Piss Boy here turned up.’

  Craig stumbled to his feet and glanced down at his trousers. The dark stain had spread over his whole thigh and half way down his calf. He had a look on his face that I couldn’t fathom. There was something seriously deep going on, and even though I didn’t like the guy, I was prepared to respect that. I undid his hands, while Jai kept hold of Norwood.

  I ran into the hall and up some stairs, and found a man’s bedroom. Rummaged in drawers until I located a pair of jeans. Grabbed them, ran down the stairs, chucked them at Craig.

  ‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ Jai said.

  ‘I don’t want us to tell anyone about the dog pee.’

  Craig shuffled into the tiny porch and I heard trouser- changing noises.

  ‘But if we have to get forensics here,’ Jai said. ‘If this guy killed Thornton . . . ’

  ‘I don’t think he killed Thornton.’

  ‘But . . . ’