Read Behind Shadows: A Psychological Mystery Thriller (The Adam Stanley Series Book 1) Online
Authors: Netta Newbound
Michael
Sitting in DS Stanley's car, Michael watched dozens of vehicles come and go. It freaked him out.
Toni had gone mad when he'd told her he was going to check on Amanda. He'd left her looking after the children regardless of the abuse she hurled at him as he left.
He'd had a terrible feeling something was wrong. The cop said more or less the same thing—making him even more nervous. However, he'd never expected this.
Amanda was brought out on a stretcher and put into the ambulance. He hadn't recognised her at first. She looked like a mad woman with staring eyes and she was covered in something dark and greasy.
He should have gone to her, but he'd never been any good in a crisis. He just wanted to leave. To pick up the kids from Toni's and take them home.
He considered going back inside to find DS Stanley, but a police officer guarded the front gate and the property was surrounded with 'CRIME SCENE — DO NOT CROSS' tape. So he had no option but to stay put.
Eventually, Stanley came out. He stripped his jacket off and threw it into the boot of the car before sliding in the driver's seat. "Oh, Michael, I forgot about you. Didn't you want to go in the ambulance with Amanda?"
"No, I don't do hospitals. Can you take me home, please?"
"Not right now, sorry. I need to check on Amanda even if you don't want to. I promised her I wouldn't be far behind."
"What's wrong with her? Is she hurt?" Michael wrinkled his nose and moved as far away from the detective as possible. The stench from inside the house seemed to be all over him and it made Michael's eyes smart.
"Not physically, but she is in a real state."
"What the hell is that stink?"
Adam sniffed at his hands as though he couldn't smell it anymore. "Amanda found a dead body. He'd been there for a while, I'd say."
"Who is it?"
Adam shrugged as he started the engine.
"So, she found him? She didn't kill him?"
"She told me she'd killed him and she was covered in his DNA, but the body wasn't fresh. I'd bet he's been there at least a week, maybe two."
"How can that be? Do you think she could have done it before tonight?"
"I'm not sure. Anyway, I shouldn't be discussing this with you. Do you mind if I drop you off after the hospital? Otherwise, I'll get another officer to take you home."
"No, after is fine."
Adam
At the hospital, Adam’s first stop was the bathroom to scrub himself before finding Amanda's room. A uniformed police officer sat outside the door and there was another one inside. Handcuffs fastened Amanda to the bed.
"Is this necessary, Officer?" Adam pointed to the handcuffs.
"Just following orders, sir."
"Here's another order. Get them off! Now! Then get out while I talk to her."
"But, sir, I—"
"Never mind the buts—just do it!"
The officer didn't argue further; he removed the handcuffs and scurried into the corridor.
Adam pulled a chair up to the bed.
Amanda had been cleaned up and changed into a hospital gown. Her eyes were open, but she wasn't there. He remembered reading she'd been like this for weeks after giving birth when she was a teenager.
Adam didn't have weeks to waste. He needed to know what had gone on today.
He believed the body to be Dennis Kidd, Amanda's father. At least, the wallet on the body belonged to him. She hadn't killed him—not today, anyway. But she had attacked him, he presumed, with the screwdriver and spanner.
He also had the testimony of the plumber. The smell had been there before he'd arrived this morning. In fact, Amanda had called him regarding the smell several days ago. They would check out the owner of the property and anybody else with access, but he needed Amanda's help.
"Hey, Amanda," he said in a soft voice.
Nothing. She didn't even blink.
"I told you I would come, didn't I? It’s Adam."
Still nothing.
"You're going to be okay, Amanda. Dennis is dead, remember? He can't hurt you anymore."
Not a murmur.
He wondered if she might respond to her useless, coward of a husband who was still sitting outside in the car. Adam had been shocked when the man had refused to come in. If she'd been Adam's wife, nothing would have kept him from her side.
Thinking about his own wife, Sarah, made his heart flutter. Not a very macho thing to admit, but true. His beautiful wife no more deserved to be where she was now than Amanda deserved to be in this hospital bed—of that he was certain. But on both counts he could do nothing to change it.
"Okay, Amanda. I have to go but if you need me just ask one of the officers to call and I'll be here right away."
Nothing.
***
"There's no way she's responsible, Kate. I just know. You didn't see her. She thought she'd just killed him."
Annie's autopsy report was back. She hadn't been bludgeoned to death as first thought. She had choked on something lodged in her throat—a dismembered penis with the testicles still attached.
This fitted with the body in the basement whose genitals had been removed and were missing. Now, unless there was another dick-less body out there waiting to be found, it was fair to assume they belonged to Dennis.
The body had Dennis' ID in his back pocket and had been dead for at least two weeks, which fell in with the period when Dennis vanished. They still had to wait for DNA confirmation, but they were pretty certain it was him.
Kate rubbed her face with both hands, focusing on the area around her eyes. "Adam, Adam," she said, sounding exasperated. "Amanda was found with the body, was covered in his blood. She has the motive. And she was the only one with access to the house!"
"Not entirely true, Kate, the owner also had access."
"But who is the owner? Until Amanda comes round, we won't know who gave her the instructions."
He pulled his pad out from his jacket pocket. "The house belongs to Mrs Judith Pitt and the address we have for her is in Chelmsford. I'm going to see her in the morning." He snapped the pad closed. "Wanna come?"
***
Sitting outside the Chinese takeaway, in his car, Adam’s phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket. Then groaned as he read the screen, he considered ignoring it but on the fourth ring he hit the green button.
“Hey—how’s it going?” he said.
“Hey, buddy, I thought you were screening me call’s,” his best friend and ex-partner, Matt, drawled. It was comforting to hear the strong Mancunian accent he’d been brought up with.
Adam laughed. “As if. I’ve just been busy that’s all. How’s it?”
“Oh, you know—same old. How you liking the smoke?”
“It’s okay. Pretty quiet, considering.”
“You still play acting at being a cop?” Matt asked.
“I’ve been investigating a murder for your information,” Adam said, good-naturedly.
“Really? Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”
Adam shrugged. “I guess,” he said.
“You know it is. You’re wasted running around the place looking for runaway’s and you know it. You’re a great detective. What happened with Sarah can never change that.”
Adam’s stomach flipped at the very mention of her name, he didn’t want to get into this, he wasn’t ready. “Anyway how’s Carole and the girls?” he said, changing the subject.
“Great they said to say hi—they miss you.”
“I miss them too, I’ll come home for a visit soon, I promise.”
“We’ll hold you to that, buddy.”
“Anyway, I’ve gotta go, Matt, thanks for calling.”
Adam woke up in his lumpy armchair in front of the TV. The meal he'd bought for his supper had fallen to the floor uneaten, though the fried rice had dried and hadn't made too much of a mess on the already stained carpet.
He'd moved into the furnished rental when he arrived from Manchester. The small bedroom, kitchenette and lounge with a TV were all he needed for the time being.
Sarah would have been horrified to see where he was living. He knew she wouldn't have set foot in the place, preferring instead, to sleep in the car.
Once again, the thought of her made his chest contract—he struggled to breathe properly. He didn't think it would ever get easier.
He picked up the framed photograph that had slid down the arm of the chair. Tracing a finger across the lips of his beautiful wife, he held his breath, allowing the familiar pain to course through his body, and settle in the middle of his chest.
Half an hour later he and Kate were on their way out of Pinevale. The car's built-in GPS said they would arrive in Chelmsford just after nine.
Kate was very quiet during the journey. He glanced at her a couple of times, checking if she'd gone to sleep.
"What's on your mind?" he asked.
"Oh, I'm just taking this time to go over everything in my head." She reached for her handbag and took out a box of pills.
"Got a headache?"
"Always. Sometimes it's worse than others, but it's always there." She popped the pills into her mouth and swallowed without any problems.
Adam smiled to himself. She would have called him a wimp if she saw him taking pills. He struggled even with a jug of water to help him.
"What's so funny?"
"Oh, nothing really. I was admiring the way you took the pills without a drink. I can't do that.
"If you'd had as much practice as me you would."
"Is this from your accident, you mean?" he asked in a tentative voice. He'd never spoken to her about her personal life before and was unsure what her reaction would be.
"Yes, unfortunately. Although I only take a few now. I try to do without them if I can."
"I heard they said you wouldn't walk again. You must be one tough cookie."
"They're not always right, Adam," she said tetchily. "Have you called to let them know we're on our way?"
"No, I thought it best if we just turn up—catch them unawares, so to speak."
"I don't know what you're expecting to find. Everything's pointing to Amanda, and unless we find evidence to the contrary she'll be arrested as soon as she comes to."
He didn't want to get into another dispute with her so he said nothing the rest of the way.
The address was on the outskirts of Chelmsford, halfway between Bloomfield and Little Waltham. They pulled up outside the property. It was surrounded by a high fence, and electric gates crossed the driveway.
Adam let out a long, slow whistle.
"So much for catching them unawares," Kate said. "They'll have at least a ten-minute warning."
Adam ignored the amused tone in her voice and edged the car closer to the keypad.
A young girl's voice came over the speaker. "Hello? Who's there?"
"Good morning, Miss. I have a delivery for you."
"Wait a minute, please."
They waited for a couple of minutes, and just as he was about to press the intercom again the gates began to swing open. A smile played on his lips and his eyebrows rose cheekily as he looked at Kate.
"Smart arse!" she said with a grudging smile.
The driveway wasn't as long as they'd expected. As they rounded the first row of ancient oak trees, the house jumped out at them—a quaint cottage with several outbuildings forming a horseshoe shape.
They got out of the car and walked towards the cottage. A young girl with fine blond hair and a pale face opened the door as they reached the top of the steps. It was difficult to pinpoint her age. The waif-like frame could belong to an eight or nine-year-old, but the knowing look in her eye said she was much older. She eyed them suspiciously.
"Good morning. Is Judith Pitt at home?"
"She told me to take it off you."
"Sorry? Oh, the delivery. I told a white lie, sorry. We need to talk to Mrs Pitt." Adam took out his badge and saw Kate doing the same. "My name is DS Stanley and this is DI King."
"But she's in bed." Her eyes darted from Adam to Kate and back again, two deep creases appearing on her forehead.
Adam glanced at his watch. "We've come a long way, miss, and it’s urgent we see her—please let her know we're here."
The girl pursed her lips to the side of her face, sucking air between them noisily. She went inside, closing the door behind her.
"Is it school holidays?" Kate asked.
"Wouldn't have a clue." Adam shrugged.
The door opened again and the girl invited them in.
"My mum's sick in bed. You'll have to see her in her room."
"What's wrong with her?" Kate looked concerned. "Is it contagious?"
"Can't remember the name—but if you mean can you catch it, no."
They followed her down the hallway into a small, dark room on the ground floor. The girl walked towards the window and opened the curtains a touch. Enough light shone in for them to make out the bed against the wall and a shape under the blankets.
The girl went to the bed and folded back the sheets, before helping the woman upright and leaning her against the pillows. Adam felt terrible for the intrusion, this person was obviously very sick.
When the girl had her mother positioned, she motioned them to the side of the bed.
Judith Pitt was hunched in a semi-sitting position. One side of her face was twisted and the eye on that side was closed, but the good eye shocked and fascinated Adam. It was alive and sparkling.
"Hello, Officers, how can I help you?" The speech was slow and slurred but clear enough to be understood.
"Hello, Mrs Pitt. We're sorry to bother you, but we need to ask a few questions. My name is DS Stanley and this is DI King." He was aware he'd slowed his speech to match hers.
"What about?"
"Your property in Kingsley. We believe you appointed Amanda Flynn to see to some restoration work."
"Yes, that's right," she said.
"Can you tell me who else has access to the property?"
"Nobody. It's been shut up for years."
"I'm sorry to inform you, Mrs Pitt, but a murder was committed there sometime in the last two weeks. We need to be sure that nobody else has access."
"No one, only me." Her good eye had widened with shock and she shook her head. "Murdered? Who was murdered?"
"We still don't know yet. Could anybody else have got the details without you knowing?"
"I-I don't think so." She was becoming distressed. "Mary?" she whispered.
The girl moved over to the other side of the bed and wiped her mother's mouth with a tissue.
"Okay, we'll leave you in peace. Would it be okay to get a few more details from your daughter before we go?"
Mrs Pitt nodded.
Mary Pitt showed them into the lounge. It reminded Adam of his childhood visits to his grandma's house. Heavy beige drapes hung at the small windows. A pale-green, hand-knotted Chinese rug covered most of the floor. Occasional tables and tasselled lamps were placed around the room for optimum effect. A huge bookcase covered one wall and was crammed full with books.