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

by Angela Marsons

  The sudden ceasing of the sewing machines was startling as the room fell into silence.

  The women looked at the officers and at each other.

  Cristina was looking directly at her.

  Devon followed her gaze and nodded.

  Stacey approached the second workstation in the middle row and touched the girl’s arm lightly.

  ‘Cristina, can you come with me, please?’ Stacey asked, gently.

  The fear flooded into her face as she pulled her arm away.

  ‘I haven’t done anything,’ she screamed. ‘Leave me alone.’

  ‘Cristina, I just want to talk. That’s all,’ Stacey said, calmly.

  Many of the other girls had turned to see what the shouting was about. Stacey caught the look of satisfaction on Natalya’s face. She didn’t agree with it but she now understood it.

  ‘Please, come with me,’ she said, gently guiding Cristina into the corridor and the small break room where they had conducted the interviews.

  Stacey tried to offer a reassuring smile as she closed the door. She waited for Cristina to sit before voicing the suspicion that had been growing in her mind since the night before.

  ‘He’s yours, isn’t he?’ Stacey asked. ‘The baby at the police station?’

  Cristina began to shake her head vehemently but the emotion that had gathered in her eyes told a different story.

  ‘And Andrei was your father?’ Stacey asked.

  That’s why Nicolae had been watching Cristina so closely. She knew exactly what had been done to her father.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said, making a move towards the door.

  ‘Sit back down, Cristina,’ Stacey said.

  Despite her denial, Stacey knew she was lying and Natalya’s expression had confirmed it. When questioning the women, Natalya, who was a mother, had launched a bitter, accusatory attack at Cristina, unable to believe that she had abandoned her own child. They had been reliant on their translator, Cristina, to tell them what each girl had been saying. She could have told them anything.

  ‘It’s time to tell the truth,’ she said, softly. ‘You’ve carried this fear for way too long.’

  The head shaking stopped and her eyes reddened with emotion.

  ‘How did you guess?’ she asked, brokenly.

  ‘The word “bebelus” was missing from your translation of the pages we gave to you. I heard it somewhere else this week and realised I’d seen the word in the book pages, yet your translation made no mention of a baby or a child. You are that child. Your father, Andrei, travelled all the way from Romania. With you.’

  ‘And I hated him for it,’ she cried. ‘I never felt comfortable here,’ she said. ‘I always felt that I was in the wrong place. I never went to school. I learned the language along with my father. He taught me to read and write. He would go to work and some Romanian woman from one of the houses would take care of me.’

  ‘Tell me about it, Cristina,’ Stacey urged. She wanted to understand the circumstances that had led to her abandoning her child.

  ‘Eventually we managed to get two rooms next door to one of the houses. A lady named Alanna lived downstairs, spoke no English but would bring us back leftovers from the factory. I worked at a hotel in Birmingham just changing beds and cleaning but my money was my own. That’s how we got the two rooms.’

  She shook her head sadly. ‘I loved him so much but hated him too for the life he had chosen for us. I begged him to let us return to Romania. I suspect I showed him the hate more than the love.’

  Stacey heard the regret in her tone.

  ‘And now?’ she asked.

  ‘He never told me what he went through to get us here. I don’t even know how he kept us alive never mind together. I realise now that although I didn’t have a lot. I always had him.’

  Stacey felt compelled to match the girl’s honesty. ‘I have to tell you that your father had received many injuries over a long period of time. He was regularly beaten…’

  The tears fell from her eyes. ‘I know,’ she breathed. ‘He would try to hide it from me. He always tried to protect me but I could tell when he was suffering. And there was nothing I could do about it.’

  ‘He suffered a horrific injury to his leg. Cristina. Almost every bone was broken.’

  Cristina cried out and then buried her face in her hands.

  Stacey looked around and spied kitchen roll beside the sink. She ripped off a square and waited for a moment until the deep sobs had subsided.

  ‘Where could that have happened?’ she asked, gently.

  Cristina wiped at her eyes and nose. ‘He mainly worked on a farm in Worcestershire. I don’t know which one.’

  Stacey guessed that he had sustained the horrific injury and just been cast aside like a broken, worn-out hand tool.

  ‘He was taken to the canal and left to die,’ Stacey explained but she could see that this came as no shock to Cristina.

  ‘I understand,’ she said, quietly. ‘He was unable to work and was no longer any use to Nicolae. He would have ordered it.’

  The tears rolled unchecked over her cheeks. The grief was finally allowed to break free from her tight control.

  ‘How did you know he’d died?’

  ‘Nicolae threw me his payment book and told me where to report to the next morning.’

  ‘Robertson’s?’ she asked. Stacey still didn’t fully understand why Cristina had abandoned her baby.

  ‘Your father managed to work and keep you…’

  Stacey stopped speaking as fresh pain filled the girl’s eyes.

  ‘My father was bonded,’ she said, taking a battered notebook from her pocket.

  Stacey took it, and leafed through.

  ‘Upon his death, his debt falls to me.’

  Stacey got to the end and gasped.

  ‘It stands at £49,000. You will never pay that off,’ Stacey said.

  She smiled sadly. ‘I know, and any remaining debt would fall to any child I might have.’

  Cristina had not abandoned her child at all. She had tried to free him from the bonded debt.

  ‘Cristina, we’ll get all this sorted out, I promise. You’ll be appointed a lawyer and you can—’

  ‘I will never claim him,’ she said, clutching at Stacey’s arm. ‘I will never admit to being his mother. Look around you. What can I give him? He deserves a life free of fear and isolation. He will grow up as a British baby. I love him so much but I have to let him go.’

  ‘What about the baby’s father?’ Stacey asked. She suspected this girl was not the type to sleep around and the relationship could have been serious.

  Cristina shook her head. ‘He can not help. I will not reveal—’

  ‘He’s illegal, isn’t he?’ Stacey asked. Cristina had previously worked in the hotel trade, well known for employing illegal immigrants.

  ‘He can not help,’ Cristina repeated.

  Stacey frowned and pulled away her arm. ‘But the two of you could be…’

  ‘Do you think this will end with Nicolae?’ she asked, urgently. ‘Do you think they will lose all this money so easily? Nicolae will never give you any names. I don’t know who they are but they will know me and they will come looking. I cannot protect my baby.’

  Stacey felt torn.

  There was a part of Stacey that loved curling up on the sofa with a Disney film. A part of her that still believed in happy endings, that believed mother and child could be reunited and live happily ever after.

  ‘I am also illegal,’ Cristina reminded her.

  ‘Please understand, he is my child and it is my sacrifice to make. I have nothing to give him but fear and uncertainty,’ she said, thickly, clearly remembering her own childhood.

  Stacey swallowed the emotion down. She could hear voices approaching the door. Cristina heard them too.

  ‘Please, I beg you, for the sake of the child, don’t tell them that he is mine. He has a chance at a better life. He will not have to run or hi
de. He will be a legal citizen.’

  The tears rolled over her cheeks. She had no fear for herself, only for her child. This poor girl had spent her entire life looking over her shoulder, frightened of discovery, never fitting in or belonging. Her only crime was wanting something better for her own child.

  Stacey felt the emotion gather in her throat.

  ‘Please, I beg you for the future of my child.’

  She felt the girl’s terror, her torment. She was willing to sacrifice anything for the sake of that little boy who had not chosen this life. She had the power right here and now to change that child’s life for ever.

  So many questions were rolling around her mind as the door opened and Devon stepped in.

  But ultimately there was only one question that really mattered.

  SEVENTY-SIX

  ‘Turning into a bit of a maze, this case, eh, guv. I mean we’ve kinda stumbled across Ellie by accident.’

  That fact did not make the discovery any easier to bear, she thought, as she stared at the front of the house. A young girl had been seduced, flattered, befriended and trapped, and she suspected she knew why.

  ‘She’s gonna be taken to Templeton,’ Kim said, voicing her worst fears. ‘And it’s because of me.’

  ‘How so?’ he asked.

  ‘That one stupid action the other night of scaring that girl away,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Got Sal beat up and another young girl moved up the food chain quicker.’

  But how the hell did you prioritise who you were going to save?

  ‘Guv, listen, you can’t blame yourself for—’

  ‘I don’t, Bryant. I blame you. You’re supposed to stop me from doing these things,’ she said.

  He ignored her. ‘You gotta pass it on, guv?’

  Kim knew what he meant. Protocol dictated that she inform missing persons so that another team could be dispatched to deal with what they suspected about Ellie Greaves.

  ‘You really think they’ll find her before we do?’

  ‘Guv, we got two dead bodies in one week. That’s our case.’

  ‘You know what’s gonna happen to her?’

  ‘I’ve got a pretty good idea.’

  ‘And who else is gonna give a shit? Mispers aren’t gonna jump all over it because she’s sixteen years old. And we know where she was. We’re already way ahead. We can’t just pretend it’s someone else’s problem. She’s someone’s daughter, for God’s sake. You think I can just walk away?’

  Bryant sighed heavily. ‘You already got something in mind?’

  ‘Not quite, Bryant, but I’m getting there.’

  SEVENTY-SEVEN

  ‘Jesus, Stace, that sounds intense,’ Dawson said, once she’d finished recounting her conversation with Cristina.

  His own journey upstairs with Grant had elicited statements of ‘no comment’ from the business owners and a speedy call to their solicitor. It was clear from the guilt written all over their faces that they knew the workers were illegal and that they had probably arranged the fake passports themselves.

  Grant had requested evidence of BACS payments or wage slips being produced and issued directly to the workforce. The efficient Mr Robertson had not been able to magic those documents onto the printer quite so easily.

  Despite their assurances of lessons learned in the past, and the thin veil of respectability and legitimacy, it was clear that the Robertsons had learned nothing and were the same dishonest, underhand family they had always been.

  The two of them continued to watch from the car as the employees were led from the building into waiting transportation. A police car awaited Nicolae Rachnovich.

  ‘So, what did you do?’ he asked. ‘What was the question?’

  She sighed. ‘Can’t you guess?’

  He thought for a minute and then smiled. ‘What would the boss do?’

  ‘Yep,’ she answered.

  ‘And?’

  ‘It ay my choice, Kev. It’s not up to me what truth gets told or to whom. My job isn’t to give everyone their happy ever after. My job is to enforce the law and ultimately Cristina abandoned her baby. I cor allow her reasons for her actions to dictate how I do my job.’

  ‘Easier said than done, though, eh?’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ she agreed, as a shadow passed over her face.

  He knew that Stacey would have sympathised with the woman who had felt that she had no other option. Cristina’s life had been unenviable to this point and the temptation for Stacey to keep the knowledge to herself must have been overwhelming. If only for the sake of the child.

  He nudged her as the vehicles began to pull away. ‘I’m proud of you, Stace, talking and acting like a police officer and a grown up.’

  She turned towards him. ‘Yeah, Kev. I am a grown up and some stuff is hard to deal with,’ she said. ‘And I have been letting fear get the better of me recently, but not any more.’

  ‘Good,’ he said, patting her arm.

  ‘So, it’s time to knock it on the head now, Kev,’ she said.

  ‘What’s that?’ he asked.

  ‘Parking up outside my flat at night to keep an eye on me.’

  ‘Don’t be bloody ridiculous, woman, I—’

  ‘Kev, I’ve seen you and I’m okay. I’m not scared any more. I know what it’s costing you at home and you’ve got to stop.’

  He swallowed. ‘Stace…’

  ‘Let it go, Kev. I know you think you should have been able to prevent what happened but you couldn’t, no one could. It happened and it’s over. We gotta move on.’

  He nodded and stared out of the window. Yes, he had felt responsible when Stacey was abducted by those evil, racist bastards. Every minute she’d been held captive had weighed on him heavier because he’d taken his eye off the ball. He’d been too busy fighting and squabbling with Bryant instead of making sure his colleague was okay.

  He hadn’t told anyone in case they’d tried to make him stop. He wasn’t prepared to stop until he knew she was okay. While there was breath in his body he would not allow anyone to harm her again.

  He only hoped he hadn’t pushed his relationship with Alison beyond repair.

  ‘Tell her the truth,’ Stacey said, reading his mind.

  ‘You think?’

  ‘Yeah, she’ll bollock you but then she’ll be so relieved you were out late being a good guy instead of a cheating wanker there’ll be some decent sex in it for you.’

  He laughed out loud.

  Tell her the truth? Well that was a novel idea but he might just give it a go.

  He fired up the engine as Stacey’s phone signalled receipt of a text message.

  ‘Uh oh,’ Stacey said as she read the words. ‘Boss says to drop whatever we’re doing and get back to the station. She wants us back there, like now.’

  SEVENTY-EIGHT

  ‘Okay, Bryant, I’m pretty sure it’s your turn to go get the coffee,’ Kim said once she’d read the text message from Stacey. Even allowing for rush-hour traffic they were only a few miles away.

  He pointed to the full percolator. ‘But, guv, I just…’

  ‘Please leave the room so I can have a private word with Penn.’

  Bryant walked past her and huffed.

  Kim waited until he’d left the room.

  ‘Any update on Ian Skitt?’

  Penn shook his head. ‘Not a lot, boss. He is one tight little clam. All I’ve got so far is that he’s twenty-five, transferred out of the Met two years ago, lives alone and has not dated or shown interest in anyone at the station in the time he’s been here. He’s pleasant and professional, never makes lewd jokes or treats anyone disrespectfully.’

  ‘Regular Boy Scout, then?’

  ‘Appears so. The lack of female partners is not due to a shortage of interest. Every available woman in the control room has thought about it, but any attempts on their part have been politely but pleasantly rebuffed.’

  ‘How’d you find all this out?’

  Penn shrugged. ‘Took the lovel
y ladies in the control room a cup of coffee and a few muffins.’

  Kim smiled at his ingenuity. The control room operators worked in a sterile environment and didn’t get company all that often.

  The simplest methods were always the best.

  Ian Skitt was clearly a private person who did little to get himself noticed. He was a background player, the type of officer who would retire a nonentity. There would be no anecdote that would travel the annals of history on the back of his name. And that was okay. There were plenty of officers just like him. And yet most of them did not turn up with an armful of fried chicken for sex trade workers each week.

  Still her gut told her that there was something not quite right with the constable. There was an instant distrust for her when a person failed to make eye contact.

  The activity at the doorway disturbed her thoughts.

  ‘All right, boss?’ Dawson asked, rushing in, followed by Stacey, followed by Bryant with coffee.

  ‘Everything okay?’ she asked, aware they’d been involved in the raid at Robertson’s.

  He nodded. ‘We’ll update you later.’

  Kim took a marker pen and stood at the second wipe board.

  She wrote the names: Tim, Roger Barton, Roxanne, Kai Lord, Jeremy Templeton, Kelly, Donna and Lauren at random points around the board and circled each name.

  Dawson turned to get a better look.

  She talked as she drew lines linking the circles.

  ‘So, we know that Tim has been in contact with all our victims at one time or another. Roxanne works for Kai Lord and was also the next-door neighbour of Kelly Rowe.’

  She drew another line from Templeton to Kai. ‘We know that he is a client of Kai Lord.’

  She drew another line from Roger Barton to Kelly Rowe and wrote the word ‘blood’ along the line. She added Ellie’s name in the corner and drew lines to Roxanne and Kai Lord. She added a dotted line to Jeremy Templeton.

  Kim stood back. ‘Any more links?’

  They all murmured in the negative. It was not difficult to see that all lines led back to Kai Lord.

  ‘So, on paper, he’s our guy?’ Bryant observed.