Broken Bones: A gripping serial killer thriller (Detective Kim Stone Crime Thriller Series Book 7)

by Angela Marsons

  ‘You liked her, eh?’ Bryant asked as the car disappeared from view.

  ‘I understood her,’ Kim said, quietly.

  And she had. Gemma’s mother had been in and out of prison all her life. Eventually relatives had grown tired of taking in the spirited kid who played up because she never knew where she was going to be living from one month to the next. Once she hit thirteen she was left to fend for herself when her mother was put away. She had taken to the street to fulfil the most basic of needs. To eat.

  And yet there was still a little girl inside who ached for her mother’s approval, direction, discipline which had prompted the visits to prison and right into the waiting, manipulative arms of Alexandra Thorne who had spotted every similarity to Kim and every weakness the girl had before she’d even sat down. Gemma hadn’t stood a chance.

  ‘You never even mentioned her in your statement of what happened that night?’ Bryant said.

  She heard the accusation in his tone. The girl had tried to kill her, and Bryant would have been happier seeing her behind bars. Her choice not to bring charges had not gone down well with her colleague.

  Kim shrugged. ‘You think she’s leading any kind of charmed life because I didn’t?’ she asked. Gemma’s mother was still in prison and Alex would have forgotten her name by now. Gemma had failed and Alex didn’t remember people who failed.

  What had the experience earned her? She was back on the street selling her body for a warm meal.

  As though reading her mind Bryant spoke quietly.

  ‘Could you ever do it, guv?’ he said, nodding to the females all returning to the doorways following the punter’s choice of Gemma.

  Kim opened her mouth but then closed it again. It was much too easy to say no. It was the moral answer, the expected response. The instant answer that kept this lifestyle away from respectable people. Realistically, that choice, that very decision, should have been much closer to her than it was. Her early years had dictated a propensity to self-destruction and addiction. Events had shaped her and prepared her for many versions of her future and not one of them included being a police officer.

  Most people felt that a moral code was present from birth but in Kim’s own experience that was not the case. She remembered reading a quote about a notorious killer – a child who had murdered two boys when she was eleven years old. Asked why she had done it she had stated ‘because I didn’t know it was wrong’.

  Most people would find the simplicity of that statement unbelievable but Kim did not. Morals were formed by example, a learned behaviour, reinforced by continual practice and correction.

  ‘Bryant, I have the luxury of not having to make that decision. But I’d ask you the same question.’

  He thought for a moment. ‘In all honesty, guv, to take care of and protect my family, there’s probably not all that much that I wouldn’t do if I needed to.’

  Kim smiled at his honesty.

  ‘Hey, here comes another,’ she said.

  The car slowed and stopped at the first girl. Donna Hill sashayed towards the car. Three feet away she raised her hand and shook her head. Kim watched with interest as Donna turned away. The heroin addict wasn’t normally that fussy.

  She turned again and stepped back towards the car. This time she leaned in closer and then shook her head. She stepped away and headed back into the shadows.

  The car crawled slowly to the end of the strip but was not approached by any other girls.

  Kim’s stomach began to churn.

  ‘Bit weird,’ she said to Bryant. ‘Put an asterisk by that one.’

  They watched as Donna returned and re-took her place close to Sal.

  Kim stepped back further into the doorway as a couple passed by. The man was much taller with his right arm draped around the shoulders of the woman. She watched their progress along the street. Not the normal area for a late-night stroll, not to mention the weather conditions.

  As the couple passed the charity shop, Sal stepped forward and lit a cigarette, and then stepped back.

  Kim looked again and saw that the hand of the man was not draped around the shoulders of the woman but was clutched over her shoulder like a claw.

  ‘That’s one,’ Kim whispered, as the male deposited the girl at the Give Way sign and stepped back into the shadows.

  This was the young girl tipped off to her by Sal. She had known it was happening tonight and the reason she’d encouraged Kim to stick around.

  Kim took note of the jeans with a butterfly design on the pocket. The flat, patent shoes and the pink bubble gum puffer jacket.

  Bryant nodded his agreement. ‘Our northern guy shouldn’t be too far away.’

  Kim stared at the young girl whose shoulders were hunched against the cold. She knew that, regardless of any other fact, they were looking at a girl who had probably been hand-picked for the pleasure of some sicko because she was a virgin.

  ‘This might be him,’ Bryant said.

  Kim turned her head towards a dark blue BMW 5 Series. As it passed them by Bryant took the private plate registration.

  The car travelled slowly and didn’t pause as the other girls stepped forward. The driver headed straight for the end of the strip.

  Kim felt the anger begin to rise inside her. There was something authentic about a transaction that took place between two willing parties. A business arrangement between two consenting adults, but this was no such thing.

  ‘Guv, I can see from that muscle in your cheek what you’re thinking but there’s nothing we can do.’

  Right now they were gathering useful intelligence that could help further their investigation into the murder of a young prostitute named Kelly Rowe. Compromising their position for one young girl was not in the greater interest of the case.

  ‘Jesus, Bryant, how stupid do you think I am?’ she said, right before she stepped out of the doorway.

  NINETEEN

  Ellie woke to a dull thudding pain in her head. She groaned as she turned onto her back and opened her eyes. It took a few seconds for her to realise she was not in her own room. The ceiling was covered with some kind of bobbling effect. Her own ceiling was white with a few dark patches following her mother’s attempt to paint over a night sky mural.

  She sat up and instantly wished she hadn’t. The nausea swirled around her stomach as bile bit the back of her throat. She covered her mouth and swallowed it back down.

  First she looked down at herself. Her body was clad in cotton pyjamas bearing poodles. It took her a further few seconds to realise they were not hers. The room was pleasant but sparse. A dressing table and a wardrobe lined the walls along with a couple of framed photographs Ellie had seen in a dozen bargain shops. Finally, she realised she was definitely in someone’s spare room.

  She raised herself to a sitting position and closed her eyes, focussing on what she last remembered. She recalled getting off the bus at Cradley Heath station. But when that was she couldn’t be sure.

  Her heart quickened as she recalled the two men who had robbed her.

  She remembered Roxanne guiding her to the car and pulling onto the drive of a semi-detached house with a garage.

  She remembered Roxanne had told her to drink some liquid to calm her nerves. The drink had burned, she’d coughed and Roxanne had laughed.

  Ellie remembered sitting at the kitchen table while the radio played gently in the background. She had felt so grown up, drinking coffee and talking to an adult that was not her mother.

  Roxanne had been so understanding. She had listened for hours, pausing only to refill her drink, while Ellie had talked about her problems.

  Her eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth. Her mother would be worried sick.

  She scrabbled from beneath the covers at the exact second that the bedroom door opened.

  Roxanne entered wearing leggings and an oversized jumper.

  ‘Hey, sleepy head, how are you feeling?’

  ‘I don’t… I’m not…’

  Ro
xanne sat beside her on the bed and chuckled.

  ‘You fell asleep right in front of me. I was just coming to check for a pulse. I let you sleep because you had quite an ordeal earlier. Shock can sometimes do that. But you’re awake now so—’

  ‘My mum, I need to let her know…’

  ‘Don’t worry, it’s all fine.’ Roxanne patted her knee and smiled. ‘Come down when you’re ready and we’ll get you sorted. The bathroom is on the right.’

  Roxanne stood and left the room.

  Ellie looked around for her clothes. All she saw was her watch beside the bed. It told her it was almost eight p.m. She’d left the house at nine o’clock that morning.

  She slipped her feet into a pair of moccasin slippers and padded to the bathroom. Once outside the room her nostrils were overpowered by aromas from downstairs. The smell of meat roasting and vegetables steaming hit her in the stomach. She mustn’t have eaten all day.

  Before she left the bathroom she threw cold water on her face. She followed the trail of the smells to the kitchen.

  ‘Umm… Roxanne… my clothes?’

  ‘Just next door in the washer. They’ll be freshly ironed and ready for you to wear in about an hour.’

  Ellie instantly felt that was really thoughtful.

  ‘So, you’re not gonna leave me to eat by myself, are you?’ Roxanne asked as she took a dish of roast potatoes from the oven and shook them. They were browned and crispy and Ellie’s mouth began to water.

  The radio was still playing quietly in the background. The washing machine rumbled in the utility room next door and the meal being cooked smelled positively delicious. At this moment in time, Ellie had no wish to be anywhere else.

  ‘It’s just my mum…’

  ‘Don’t worry about that, right now. I’ve taken care of it. Now all I need to know is should I reach for one plate or two?’

  ‘Two,’ Ellie said, bravely.

  She was already in a whole heap of trouble with her mother. She would be grounded for the next ten years, so one more hour would hardly make the difference.

  Being around Roxanne was like being in a dream. She was tall, slim and glamorous. And she was now Ellie’s friend.

  Ellie sat back and watched as Roxanne carved two slices of meat for them both. She carved a third small piece, turned and popped it in Ellie’s mouth.

  ‘Nice?’

  The beef was succulent and tasty and melted in her mouth. At home she normally had gristle-laden pork that she chewed for most of the afternoon.

  Roxanne added a portion of broccoli to Ellie’s plate.

  ‘Enough?’

  Ellie nodded as Roxanne put the pan to the side. ‘I can’t stand the stuff.’

  She took the roasters from the oven and spooned a liberal amount onto each plate. The kettle boiled and Roxanne added the hot water to a jug of gravy granules.

  ‘Can you stir this a minute while I get the star of the show?’

  Ellie stirred the thick brown liquid as Roxanne opened the door of a second oven on the other side of the room. She wasn’t sure what else could fit on the plate.

  ‘Ta dah, what do you think?’

  Ellie gasped at the tray holding the two largest Yorkshire puddings she’d ever seen.

  ‘Home-made,’ Roxanne said, proudly.

  Ellie’s stomach growled in response and they both laughed. She sat as Roxanne finished plating the meal. She set the steaming platter before her and held a knife and fork aloft.

  ‘Veg first, okay? I’m not having your mum moaning at me.’

  Ellie nodded and tucked into the broccoli. She’d had the vegetable before but it had never tasted like this. She was about to ask what she’d added to it but Roxanne spoke first.

  ‘So, how are you feeling about everything now?’

  Ellie considered her response. The anxiety she felt around her mother was gone. Sitting in pyjamas eating a delicious Sunday lunch with this glamorous woman taking such an interest in her was flattering. She couldn’t remember a time she’d felt so relaxed.

  ‘Happy,’ she answered.

  Roxanne smiled and nodded before spearing a roast potato.

  ‘Listen, I’ve done something I hope you don’t mind. After our chat earlier it seemed to me that tensions between you and your mum are at breaking point. Perhaps what you need is a bit of time apart.’

  Ellie nodded her understanding.

  ‘Sometimes it’s all that’s needed. It gives you a chance to miss each other a little bit.’

  Ellie thought about that and it seemed like a good idea.

  ‘But she doesn’t know where—’

  ‘It’s okay. I’ve messaged three of your friends on Facebook and asked them to give your mum a call and let her know that you’re safe. I explained what happened earlier and I’ve asked them to pass on my mobile number so your mum can ring me any time she wants to.’

  ‘So, she knows?’

  ‘Yes, sweetie. She knows you’re safe, so you don’t need to worry about that.’ She shrugged and put down her knife and fork. ‘So, the choice is yours. Your clothes will be ready in a bit and I’ll put you in a taxi back home or you could chill here with me for a day or two, do some girly stuff, build a snowman and go back home feeling calmer and more objective about the whole thing.’

  Ellie put down her knife and fork, after she’d cleared her plate. The temptation of the offer was too attractive to refuse. The idea of not having to face her mother for a few more days felt like Christmas morning. And as long as her mother knew she was safe and with an appropriate adult, Ellie could really see no reason to refuse.

  ‘I’d love to stay if it’s really no bother,’ she said, remembering her manners.

  ‘’Course not, sweetie. I wouldn’t have offered if I hadn’t meant it.’

  Roxanne took the plates, emptied her own leftovers into the bin and placed the dishes in the dishwasher.

  ‘Okay, go find a DVD while I fix us a hot chocolate.’

  Ellie stepped across the hallway and into the lounge. The DVD collection consisted mainly of chick flicks that were totally uncool but enjoyable nonetheless. She took out a few for a shortlist and was down to three by the time Roxanne entered the room with two steaming mugs.

  ‘What have you got?’

  Ellie held the three films aloft.

  ‘It’s got to be Bridget Jones,’ Roxanne said, emphatically.

  Ellie put the DVD into the player and took her place on the two-seater sofa.

  The credits began to roll and out of the corner of her eye she saw Roxanne pick up her mobile phone and check it. A frown passed across her face as Ellie guessed she was probably wondering why she hadn’t yet received a call from her mother.

  And if she was honest she was beginning to wonder the same thing herself.

  TWENTY

  It was almost nine when Dawson parked up at the factory. Just as an articulated lorry was pulling out. He kept the engine running to wipe away the thickening snowflakes. Stacey was struggling to remember a day that it hadn’t snowed.

  ‘Looks like they made their deadline,’ she observed, pushing open the car door.

  ‘Not yet,’ Dawson said, placing a hand on her arm.

  ‘But I thought you wanted to speak to some of the girls,’ she said, closing the door again.

  ‘I do, but preferably without the Robertsons or Igor in the background.’

  ‘You mean Nicolae, the foreman,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah, him. Didn’t you get the feeling the bosses didn’t really want us speaking to the girls?’

  The lorry had just laboured around the corner and out of view.

  ‘Well they weren’t lying about getting that order out,’ she said.

  ‘I’m sure a couple of minutes wouldn’t have hurt,’ he replied, and she agreed with him.

  Right now there was a baby in the care of foster parents who needed to be back with his mother. She doubted that a few minutes would have made the difference.

  ‘Well, the bosses have
obviously left for the night,’ she said.

  ‘How do you know?’ he asked, looking towards the building.

  ‘The silver-and-black Mercs parked here earlier have gone,’ she observed.

  He said nothing. Clearly he did not notice everything.

  ‘So, we’re waiting for them to leave work so you can try and speak to a couple privately?’ she clarified.

  ‘That’s the idea, and it shouldn’t be long now,’ he said, as the showroom light went out.

  He pulled the car further along the car park, nearer to the reception door.

  ‘Come on,’ he urged towards the building. ‘You’d think they’d be spewing out of there like rats down a drainpipe,’ he said.

  It wasn’t an analogy she liked but she too would have thought they’d be eager to leave the premises after what must have been an intensely long and gruelling shift.

  Dawson’s eyes were trained on the reception door.

  ‘Come on,’ he repeated, impatiently. ‘They should have been coming out—’

  ‘Kev, look,’ she said, pointing to the rear-view mirror.

  ‘What the…?’

  A blue minibus had exited the gate. And it looked like it was carrying every single worker.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Kim hurtled along Tavistock Road frantically waving her right hand in the air. ‘Maddie, Maddie, is that you?’

  She felt every pair of eyes on her as she jogged along the pavement.

  The young girl stood beside the open door of the car.

  ‘Hang on, Maddie, it’s me…’

  Kim reached the door and slammed it shut. She grabbed the girl by the upper arms. Looking into the startled eyes of a frightened kid who looked no older than fifteen, Kim locked her gaze.

  ‘Run, run now and don’t stop.’

  Kim turned her around and pushed her back along the strip.

  The girl didn’t hesitate. She turned and ran as the blue BMW sped up and rounded the corner out of sight.

  Kim turned as the minder began to make chase. She threw herself into his path. He towered above her by a good four inches. He tried to dance around her but she danced along with him. He reached out and tried to swipe her out of the way. Kim grabbed his wrist and turned it. He screamed out in pain and fell to the ground. Kim followed and landed on top of him. He wrestled his arm free and tried to use it to push himself up. Kim managed to get a knee in his balls.