Definitely Dead

by Kate Bendelow

  The cat’s mouth was open unnaturally wide. Some sick fuck had wrenched the poor animal’s jaws apart so violently it hinged like a crocodile. Its eyes were bulging, and a trail of blood tainted her shining fur. Dominique cried out in distress, unable to tear her eyes from the horrific sight.

  As she stared down, numb with shock, she noticed something else. Something was protruding from the animal’s throat. She knelt tentatively to look closer. It looked like some kind of paper tube. Keening, she slowly extended her hand and reached carefully into Jet’s mouth. With a small tug, she removed the object from her throat. Bewildered, she sat back on her heels as she studied it. She unfurled it slowly. The paper was thick and strangely waxen.

  As she unrolled it, she realised it was a photograph. She opened it up and smoothed the creases out. The picture was more terrifying than the sight of her beloved cat. She threw it from her as if it might explode, then let out a scream that brought the neighbours running.

  A summer breeze tickled the photograph, causing it to skip across the dew-covered grass. The yellowing print saw a young couple beaming at the camera arm in arm. Back then, Dominique Barton and Marcus Naylor had been very much in love.

  63

  Maya lay in bed wide awake but reluctant to get up. Getting up meant facing the world and she really didn’t want to. She still felt uncomfortable being alone in the flat. She was becoming increasingly unpopular at work and she was now screening her calls, reluctant to speak to Spence. Once released from custody he had rang her to plead his innocence. And he had sounded genuine. But she was unsure as to whether she could really trust him.

  DI Mitton was right, on paper he was an Operation Chrysalis nominal. He had also been arrested for a Section 18 assault. A stabbing for God’s sake. Yes, she had been with him at the time of the assault, but the facts were that the knife had been found in his room. Surely, he must have had some involvement. Instinctively, she believed he was a decent man. But perhaps that was a façade he had put on to convince her. Hadn’t Naylor done a similar thing when he met Dominique – and look how that ended.

  As for her instincts, how reliable were they? Her thoughts on the sudden deaths, for example. She was more convinced than ever after seeing Posner that there was a link, but nobody else believed her. What made her right and her more experienced colleagues wrong, other than an extraordinarily strong hunch. But she knew she was right, and the body count was rising. Why could nobody else see it?

  Maya’s reverie was broken by her ring tone. She checked the caller ID hoping it wasn’t Spence again. She smiled when she saw it was Dominique.

  ‘Morning, Mama.’ The reply was a strangled sobbing sound. She sat up, panicked. ‘Mama? Mama, what’s wrong? What’s happened?’

  There was a rattling as the phone was passed to someone else.

  ‘Maya? Hi, it’s Jean from next door. It’s Jet… Dominique has just found her in the garden, and… well, I’m afraid she’s dead. Somebody has killed her… I think you should come.’

  Jean continued to explain the horror of what Dominique had discovered. Maya could barely believe what she was hearing.

  ‘I’m on my way.’ Tears filled her eyes at the thought of poor Jet. She’d been the family pet for fifteen years. This was horrific. It had to be another message from Naylor. If she thought she felt scared after the break-in, it was nothing to the sheer panic she felt now. Things had gone too far. Jet had been killed for fuck’s sake. Who would be next?

  I know who is going to be next. I’m surprised it took me so long to decide when it’s alarmingly obvious. This is going to be the hardest one yet though. I know I’m taking a real risk, but it will be worth it. Shouldn’t every show end with a dazzling finale? Plus, this one really, really deserves to die. I’ll be doing a favour for so many people. Louisa my darling, this last one is for you. A symbol of my eternal love.

  And then, I’m coming home.

  64

  Donnelly gradually came round. The pain in his head was excruciating and the dizziness and nausea left him in no doubt he was suffering with concussion. He had no idea how long he’d been unconscious for, but the bulging of his bladder suggested at least a couple of hours. He was lying on the floor of the shipping container. The metal chain he had brought had been padlocked tightly around his chest and his hands and feet were bound by the cable ties. He was trussed up like a Christmas turkey, and despite being in a level of pain he had never experienced before, he was raging.

  It was hot in the container. The summer sun had turned it into a giant oven. He hadn’t noticed the uncomfortable temperature when he had been emptying it, but now the door was shut, the heat was intensifying. He steadied his breathing and willed himself to stay calm while he gathered his thoughts.

  Who the hell could have dared to do this to him? Surely it had to be opportunists, nobody who knew of him and his reputation would have risked doing something so stupid. When he found out who was responsible, he would kill them. Slowly and painfully. But first he had to get out. He suddenly thought of Lurch. He was supposed to be meeting the big man here. He would be along any minute now and then he could let him out.

  Then a surge of apprehension rushed him like a giant wave. Lurch was late. Lurch was never, ever late and he hadn’t picked up any of Aiden’s calls for a while now. What if something had happened to him? What if whoever had had the audacity to tie him up in his own lock-up had got to Lurch first? Without Lurch, how the hell was he going to get out of here? He was trapped. A sitting duck for whoever had targeted him, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. Aiden Donnelly began to experience an unfamiliar prickle of fear, which he quickly smothered with his mounting rage.

  ‘Arghhhh, get me out of here,’ he screamed as he tugged frantically against the chain and thrashed his body against the restraint of the cable ties.

  His desperate voice echoed around the empty container. He managed to manoeuvre his body enough so he could raise his feet and bang them against the walls. The result was a pitiful, desolate thumping sound. It was certainly not loud enough to attract attention.

  He wrestled his hands round to the side of his body in a desperate attempt to check his pockets for his mobile phone, but it was gone. Panting with the exertion, he curled on his side while he caught his breath. His mouth was dry, and he was desperate for a drink. The bottles of water he had brought were lying agonisingly out of reach.

  Eventually, once his heart rate had resumed to normal, he attempted to shuffle himself up onto his knees, attempting to stand. The exertion was far too much for him as the gravity caused his stomach to turn. He dropped back to the floor and vomited violently, spraying himself and his clothing in the process. Eventually, the nausea subsided. The pain in his head intensified and he started to see stars, before once again being swallowed into unconsciousness.

  65

  Maya and Dominique had been sat on the couch, holding on to each other for what seemed like an age. Despite the heat, they were ensconced under a blanket, both cold with shock. Their eyes were swollen with crying; their throats raw with talking and arguing.

  Maya had been gobsmacked when Dominique had shown her the photograph. It left her with no other choice than to tell her about the break-in and the message from Naylor. Dominique switched from heartbroken to incensed. Maya had to wrestle the phone from her mother and beg her not to call the police. She had explained how she had not revealed her relationship to Naylor on her application form, and that if the truth came out, it could jeopardise the job she loved.

  Maya had argued that even if she still managed to keep her job, she would be judged by her association with him. People would be different around her and the relationships she had worked so hard to build with her colleagues would be broken. She would be talked about and judged by other SOCOs and cops who didn’t know her. Even if they didn’t sack her, her reputation would be in tatters and the stigma would ruin her career anyway.

  Dominique suddenly broke the silence. ‘I refuse to
live in fear again because of that man. And neither should you,’ she added defiantly.

  ‘What are you going to do? What can you do?’

  ‘Phone the prison and find out who I need to speak to about this. Surely it counts as witness intimidation or something. He can’t be allowed to get away with it. I’m going to make sure we don’t hear anything else from him again. Ever.’

  Maya pulled away, horrified at the suggestion. Fresh tears streamed down her face. The thought of Dominique phoning the prison would be like re-establishing contact with him. It was bound to anger him even more. Surely if they just ignored the situation, Naylor would get bored and disappear back out of their lives as quickly as he’d returned. Maya choked back sobs as she clutched Dominique’s arm. ‘Mama, no. Please. You can’t do that. It’ll make things even worse.’

  Dominique smiled sadly at her daughter. ‘Darling, things can’t get any worse. We need to make him stop. Trust me.’ She wrapped Maya in her arms, rocking her like she did when she was a little girl as she kissed the top of her head and shushed her tears away. ‘Mama’s going to make it all go away. And for good this time. I promise.’

  Maya pulled away from Dominique and looked her mother in the eye. She nodded slowly. She had no choice but to agree. Whatever else was going on in her life this was the one thing she knew she couldn’t fix but implicitly trusted that Dominique could. Despite Maya’s age, Dominique’s determination set the boundaries of parent and child. As far as this situation went, Dominique was going to do things her own way even if it went against Maya’s wishes.

  Maya understood how much Naylor had nearly broken Dominique years ago. Her mother would find motivation and strength in not allowing him to control their lives a moment longer.

  He had caused enough trouble for them both in the past and it was Dominique who bore the physical and emotional scars. Maya had no doubt Dominique was capable of putting Naylor back under the stone he had crawled out of.

  66

  The earlier unfamiliar feeling of fear which Aiden Donnelly had felt was beginning to grow into a full-blown panic. He had lost count of how long he had been tied up in the container. Whoever had him chained up had returned, but it had been during one of his many periods of unconsciousness. The only reason he knew someone had been, was because a couple of the water bottles had had their caps removed and placed within easy reach of him alongside a pre-packaged sandwich.

  He took the food and drink as a positive sign that whoever was responsible, didn’t intend to kill him otherwise why would they do that? Unless the intention was to kill him, but just not right now. The smell of his own body disgusted him. Not only had he soiled himself, he also reeked of sweat and vomit. The pain from his head injury was as intense as ever and his eyesight was blurred. The oppressive heat was also adding to his discomfort. The suffocating air inflamed his mounting panic.

  Donnelly had never been a religious man, but right now he was praying with a religious fervour which any self-respecting priest would be proud of. He had long since stopped plotting revenge on whoever was responsible for his incarceration and was instead promising a God he had never before believed in that he would atone for all his past sins if only he would get out of this situation alive. For equal measure, he also prayed to the devil. He would sell his soul as long as it meant he didn’t die here like this, coated in his own mess, alone and with no hope of a reprieve.

  67

  Nowak and Naylor were in their cell. Naylor was concentrating avidly on the news as usual, while Nowak lay brooding on his bunk. He’d not had any word from Donnelly all day, which was unusual. He had even tried to contact Lurch to find out what was going on, but even he hadn’t replied to his texts or calls. Frustrated, he had returned the mobile to its hiding place. He had a sense of unease and was concerned that something had gone very wrong.

  Suddenly the viewing hatch was slid back prior to the cell door being wrenched open. Four prison officers were braced expectantly in the corridor.

  ‘You two, on your feet for a cell and body search,’ said McGreevy, the eldest and largest of the wardens.

  ‘What the fuck for?’ Nowak snarled.

  ‘Because I said so,’ replied McGreevy as he pushed his way into the cell and began searching their bunks. Tutting and sighing, Nowak and Naylor got to their feet and stood back as McGreevy conducted his search. Two of the other wardens approached them and began patting down their clothing.

  ‘How’s that little granddaughter of yours, McGreevy?’ Nowak said pleasantly despite the sinister glint in his eye. ‘She must be nearly walking by now.’ McGreevy spun round, face flushed with anger and Nowak’s mobile phone in his hand.

  He shoved his face into Nowak’s, visibly seething. ‘Don’t you fucking threaten me, you piece of shit.’ He held the phone aloft for the other wardens to see. ‘Get this bastard out of here and in solitary ready for a cavity search. I want a torch shone so far up his arse, his eyes and ears light up. Naylor too.’

  Nowak laughed and smiled as he passed McGreevy. Davis, the youngest of the wardens, led Nowak away from the cell as his colleague followed with Naylor. Lowering his voice so only Davis could hear him, Nowak said, ‘Don’t you forget who pays your fucking wages. Make that phone disappear, okay?’

  Davis nodded mutely, his face growing as pale as his shirt. Although McGreevy couldn’t hear the exchange, he knew exactly what was going on, and was in no doubt whatsoever that Nowak had just passed some instructions or other. Well, he might have other screws on his corrupt payroll, but McGreevy’s morality was without question. Especially now Nowak had had the nerve to mention his granddaughter. He would bend over backwards to ensure he and Naylor were held to account for the mobile phone, and for the witness intimidation which Dominique Barton had just reported.

  68

  Maya’s peace of mind was almost restored. The prison had acted promptly following Dominique’s complaint against Naylor. Whilst she was still very shaken up at the thought of her break-in and what had happened to poor Jet, Dominique had continued to reassure her that everything would be okay now. She had to put all thoughts of Naylor to the back of her mind and carry on as normal.

  Ever the optimist, Maya was confident that it would be only a matter of time before things settled back down and she started to feel safe again. Even Spence had stopped calling her but if she was honest, she didn’t know if she was happy about that or not. She was determined not to think about him either. It was easier that way. She decided the sensible thing to do for now was to follow Kym’s advice about keeping her head down at work and home.

  She arrived at work and parked up at the same time as Jack Dwyer. Perhaps now was the right time to start building bridges.

  ‘Morning, Jack. Listen, I’m glad I’ve seen you. Thanks for giving me the heads-up about Spence being in the traps the other day. I’d have been mortified if DS Turner had marched me out of the office in front of everyone to give that statement.’

  Jack nodded. ‘I thought I owed you one. I recognised him as being the barman from The Eagle. He was there the night we went in. I didn’t realise he was such a good friend of yours. You gave the impression you didn’t like him.’

  Maya shrugged. ‘It’s complicated.’

  ‘Well, Turner reckons your alibi has got him off the hook for now, but that still doesn’t explain the knife and bloodstained items they found in his house.’

  Jack was frowning at her as he spoke, and Maya suddenly saw the situation through his eyes. He was judging her for her association with a suspect the same way DI Mitton and Kym had. For a moment, Maya wondered yet again if she was wrong about Spence being a good guy. Had she made another misjudgement in character? Was he as innocent as he claimed or was he playing her for a fool? She had spent all this time worrying about her association to Naylor being made common knowledge, yet she had associated with another potential criminal, and now everyone at work seemed to know about it.

  ‘I don’t know how those items ended up in his hou
se, but what I do know is that he was with me and my friends at the time of the assault. That’s all I can say. It’s got nothing else to do with me,’ Maya stated adamantly.

  ‘Well, just be careful. If he is found culpable, it’ll bring your reputation into disrepute.’

  ‘I’m well aware of that, Jack, thank you,’ she said through gritted teeth.

  ‘Don’t take offence. I’m just trying to look out for you as a friend, that’s all,’ said Jack.

  ‘I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself, but I appreciate the sentiment,’ she replied curtly. They headed into the station and both went their separate ways. There was something about Jack that riled her, and she didn’t believe for one minute that he was looking out for her as a ‘friend’. He was the type of person who always had an ulterior motive and only ever looked out for number one.

  As Maya walked into the office, she was greeted by Chris, Elaine and Connor who were cackling away, clearly discussing something smutty. Generally, the office chat centred around food or sex, so she wasn’t surprised. She grinned wryly as she caught up on the conversation.

  ‘So,’ said Chris. ‘I’d only been seeing her a few months. Suddenly her dad dropped dead on the same day she found out he wasn’t her biological father after all. She’d been drowning her sorrows and next thing I know she’s as frisky as hell. Must have been the grief. Well, I wasn’t going to say no.’ He gave a sheepish grin as he scratched his stubble. ‘Although with hindsight screaming “who’s the daddy” as I shagged her wasn’t very tactful.’