Evil Games (7 page)

David shook his head. ‘I just don’t know what got into him.’

Alex shrugged. ‘That’s the problem. There’s no way to ensure it won’t happen again. You can’t guarantee Malcolm’s safety if Shane stays.’

David dropped his head into his hands.

Alex reached over and touched his bare arm. ‘There’s nothing more you can do, David.’

It was maddening that the only fault she could see in this man was his ability to empathise with the hopeless charges within his care. Just a touch of ruthlessness or a devious mind and he’d have been her perfect match.

He moved his arm beyond her reach.

‘Jesus, David, I tried my best you know,’ she snapped, smarting from the rejection. He didn’t know that she had manipulated the situation to keep the authorities away. For all she cared Shane could be thrown back in prison and abused every day of his life. Whatever her motives she had saved this situation and still this man rebuffed her.

‘I know, Alex, and I really appreciate it. I just need to figure out what I can do to help Shane.’

She stood up and brushed past him as she reached into the cupboard for two cups.

‘How’s Barry getting on, I thought he’d have been gone by now?’ she asked for the sake of conversation. One last coffee and it was goodbye. David’s indifference to her advances was the final straw. She had better ways to spend her time.

David shook his head. ‘Poor guy suffered a major setback. Heard from a friend of a friend that his ex-wife and brother got married last week. Barry’s daughter was a bridesmaid. He had a major meltdown and smashed up some stuff. He’s not ready to go yet.’

Alex felt the smile begin low in her stomach. Luckily she had turned away by the time it reached her face. She might have just been offered a reason to stay.

‘Oh dear, that’s such a shame. I’ll make the coffee and you can tell me all about it.’

ELEVEN

Kim seated herself at the spare detective’s desk. ‘Hope you all got a bit of sleep, because there won’t be any more until we make some headway on this case.’

Personally, she’d had very little herself. She had eventually drifted off, only to be woken two hours later after dreaming of little Daisy Dunn. She had often fallen asleep thinking about a case, and even more often a suspect had been the first thing she’d thought of in a morning. But the vision of Daisy had unsettled her; she’d watched her being led away, but Daisy was pulling back, refusing to go, staring back at her.

Kim shook the vision away. The case was over and it was on with the next. She had done her part and now she just had to hope it made it to court, despite the stupidity of Jenks and Whiley.

She tuned back just in time to catch a grumble from the other side of the room. It originated from Dawson’s corner.

Her eyes challenged him. He looked away.

Kim didn’t operate to a rota and their rostered working hours were viewed in an advisory capacity only. If a witness needed to be interviewed she didn’t care if it was five minutes before the end of shift. The job got done.

‘Anybody who expects dead bodies to turn up at their convenience should download a transfer form immediately. Anyone?’

Not even Bryant responded. He had a gift for knowing when not to open his mouth.

‘Okay, refresh; our victim is Allan Harris, a forty-five-year-old male who did time for rape. Got out about eighteen months ago and appears to have been clean ever since. He lives on benefits with his elderly mother and hasn’t worked a day since his release.’

‘It was a brutal rape, Guv,’ Bryant offered.

‘I know that.’ She’d read the reports and didn’t need a history lesson. The horrific injuries sustained by his victim had sickened her. Would she shed tears for his loss as a human being? No chance. Would she allow her personal feelings to affect the way she handled the case? Same response. ‘Look folks, he served his time, minimal as it was, and hasn’t blipped on the radar since. Allan Harris isn’t Gandhi and we don’t get to pick our victim. Got it?’

‘Yes, Guv.’

‘Dawson, go talk to taxi drivers, bus drivers, dog walkers and the owner of the pub. See if there was anyone who was particularly vocal about their dislike for Harris. And take Stacey with you, she could do with some air.’

Stacey was truly gifted in I.T. and had always supported the team from behind a computer screen. It was time to expose her to a little more of the outside world. The fact that Stacey looked just a little bit anxious proved to Kim she was making the right call.

Wood and Dawson rose and headed towards the door.

Dawson hung back. ‘Umm … Guv, just wanted to apologise for my crack about sleep.’

‘If I thought you meant it you’d already be on your way home.’

He nodded his understanding and headed out. Dawson was a good detective, but Kim expected more than good. She pushed them hard, believing it made them better officers. Police work didn’t come with a clock card, and any of her team who wanted nothing more than a job could piss off to McDonalds and flip burgers all day.

Bryant waited until they were out of earshot. ‘Don’t we make a good team? Your cool intelligence, my warm demeanour. Your dispassionate analysis, my ability to play nice. Your brains, my beauty.’

Kim grunted. ‘Come on, gorgeous, our press awaits.’

Kim hadn’t called a press conference. She hadn’t needed to. They’d been arriving since four in the morning.

She took a deep breath and nodded before pushing open the double doors.

Reporters and photographers stood in huddles. She recognised a few of the locals from the
Express
and Star
and the free papers. A Central News reporter and a BBC
Midlands Today
cameraman were sharing something on their mobile phones. A
Sky News
correspondent was busy texting.

‘Okay, gather round,’ Kim shouted. A bouquet of microphones appeared before her face and tape recorders were activated and thrust forward. God, she hated this.

She nodded at the expectant faces. ‘I’ll just hand you over to DS Bryant who will give you the details so far.’

Kim stood to the side. If Bryant was bewildered by her sudden deference he hid it well and immediately offered his sympathies to the family.

Yeah, bet Woody’s stress ball’s seeing some action now, Kim thought.

‘… Midlands Police Force will do everything within its power to bring this perpetrator to justice. Thank you for your time.’

Kim headed towards the car and Bryant followed.

‘Thanks for that, Guv,’ he grumbled, throwing a
Classic Bike
magazine onto the back seat.

‘Handled like a true professional, Bryant.’

‘You know Woody is gonna kill you for …’

‘Got the address?’

‘Back to the island at the bottom of Thorns Road but take a left onto Caledonia.’

‘Thanks, TomTom.’

‘Just for info, Guv. I know you didn’t bother going home last night.’

Kim said nothing.

‘About the only thing that does live in your office is a change of clothes and some toiletries.’

‘Gold star, Sherlock.’

‘Added to the fact that your mileage is the same as when we parked up last night.’

‘What the hell are you, a walking tachograph?’

‘No, I’m a detective. I notice things.’

‘Well, focus your efforts on this case and leave me the hell alone.’

He was right, of course, which narked her all the more.

‘I think you need a reason to go home at night.’

‘Bryant …’ she warned. It was true that he could push her further than anyone else could. But not that far.

She continued the drive in silence, right up until a laboured sigh escaped from her partner’s lips.

‘What is it, Bryant?’

He sighed. ‘I’m not sure how we’re gonna convey any sincere sympathy to Harris’s mother when we get there.’

Kim frowned. ‘Why do you say that?’

Bryant continued to stare out of the window. ‘Well, isn’t it obvious?’

‘Not to me.’

‘With what he did to that girl …’

Bryant stopped speaking as she hit the brakes and turned left onto a pub car park.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Okay, get it out now.’

He looked away. ‘I didn’t say anything in front of the others but my daughter is a similar age as that girl was when he raped her.’

‘I get that but we don’t have the luxury of investigating murders of the righteous alone.’

He looked at her. ‘But how can we offer the same level of passion for that piece of shit?’

Kim did not like the direction of this conversation. ‘Because it’s your job, Bryant. You did not sign any agreement stating that you would only protect the rights of the people you feel are worthy. It’s the law itself we uphold and that law applies to everyone.’

His eyes searched hers. ‘But can you really, knowing what you know, commit yourself without prejudice?’

She didn’t flinch. ‘Yes, I can. And I fully expect the same from you.’

He bit the skin on one of his knuckles.

The air was charged between them. There were few times she’d had to pull Bryant into line and it wasn’t an easy thing for her to do. But their friendship could stand it. She hoped.

She stared ahead, her voice low. ‘Bryant, I expect nothing less than total professionalism when we go into that house. If you can’t give me that then I would suggest you remain in the car.’

She knew that was harsh but she would not tolerate any display of his personal feelings about the victim.

He didn’t hesitate. ‘Of course.’

The fact that she would take the necessary action if he defied her instruction was known to both of them. Friendship or not.

She put the car into gear and pulled away.

Sensibly he remained silent until they reached the island at the bottom of Thorns Road. On both sides were family dwellings that she guessed to be two bedrooms, each with a driveway just long enough to hold a family-sized car.

Bryant told her to stop in front of number twenty-three.

The house sat approximately fifty feet from the end of the alley where Harris was murdered.

Bryant slammed the car door. ‘Jesus, another fifteen seconds and he’d have been home.’

The front garden was in the process of being slabbed. Mounds of grass had been crudely dug out, leaving a tufty, pock-marked surface. A box porch jutted from the front of the property, which was straight if Kim tilted her head slightly to the left. Every window was suffocated by net curtains and a small glass pane upstairs had a crack in the lower left-hand corner.

Bryant used his knuckle to rap three short taps to the door. It was opened by a female family liaison officer dressed in sweatshirt and jeans.

‘She’s quite frail, hasn’t stopped crying yet.’

Kim squeezed past her and entered the lounge. Stairs led out of the room to the upper level. Brown and orange swirls covered every surface except the beige velour corner suite that dominated the room.

The dog that had sat beside the body sauntered towards her wagging its tail. His collar of white fur still held dried brown spatters of his owner’s blood.

She ignored the animal and continued to the rear of the small house. She found the elderly female sitting in a comfortable rocker in the dining kitchen that stretched the width of the small house.

Kim introduced herself as Bryant materialised beside her. He took the lady’s hand.

‘Mrs Harris, my name is DS Bryant and firstly I’d like to offer our condolences for your loss.’ He held onto the gnarled bones for a few seconds then placed the hand gently back in her lap.

Kim offered him a slight nod as they sat on the two wicker chairs. His professionalism hid the feelings he’d revealed to her in the car. She could ask no more of him.

The liaison officer made tea and the dog placed itself next to Kim, leaning against her right leg. She moved her leg away and focused her attention on Mrs Harris. Her hair was completely grey and tufty in places. Kim was reminded of the front garden.

Mrs Harris’s face was pleasant but marred by the ravages of hard work and anguish. Her whole body was so consumed by arthritis it appeared that each bone had been fractured and reset incorrectly. Her right hand picked at the tissue in her left hand, producing hundreds of tiny white flakes that had formed a puddle in her lap.

The old lady fixed red-rimmed eyes on Bryant. When she spoke, her words were thick with a Black Country accent. ‘He wor a bad lad, Detective Inspector. Prison ’elped him.’

Kim nudged the dog away. ‘Mrs Harris, we’re more interested in what happened to your son than his past.’

Mrs Harris fixed Kim with a stare. Her eyes were raw but dry. ‘What he did was ’orrible and disgustin’ and I’ll never get the back on it. He pled guilty to all the charges and never tried any fancy defence with big words. He took the punishment o’ the court whether yo’ agree with it or not. He came out a changed man, real sorry for wor he’d done to that poor girl. If he could have took it back he woulda done.’ Her eyes filled and she shook her head. The impassioned defence of her son was over, leaving the cold reality that he was still dead.

She continued but her voice was shaky. ‘My lad wor never gonna be able to work again; his sentence was for life.’

Kim kept her face neutral and spoke honestly. ‘Mrs Harris, we fully intend to investigate the murder of your son. His history has no bearing on how we do that.’

Mrs Harris met her gaze and held it for a few seconds. ‘I believe yer.’

Bryant took over. ‘Can you tell us exactly what happened last night?’

The woman dabbed at her cheeks with the decimated tissue. ‘He ’elped me to bed about ten o’clock. He switched on the radio. I goo to sleep to the late night talking programmes. He whistled for Barney and then took him out. They always went for a long walk at night. Barney don’t like other dogs much.

‘Sometimes he’d stop at The Thorns and ’ave ’alf a pint before gooin over to the park. He just sat outside on his own with Barney. He’d buy a bag of scratchings and share ’em with the dog.’

‘What time did he normally get back?’

‘Usually ’alf eleven. I could never ger off to sleep properly ’til he was back in the house. Oh my, my, my, I cor believe he’s gone. Who’d do this?’ she asked Bryant.