by Jay Nadal
Scott and the team raced in, their hearts pounding, their mouths parched dry. They screamed their words of warning. “Police, stay where you are!” The noise of their voices and heavy footsteps were matched in equal proportion by the bark from the black German shepherd K9 that stood at the entrance straining on the leash. His body had reared up onto his hind legs, its white teeth snarling, desperate for some action.
Police flashlights peppered the darkest corners of the workshop. The familiar smell of engineering oil hung in the air. Evidence of its use was clear as a black, greasy residue stuck to their shoes. In particular, around the deep inspection pit, the floor was hardened with black grease. Scott tried the light switches, but the power had been disconnected. However, Scott noticed a car battery that had been attached to some lights to provide some crude temporary lighting.
Raj and Abby had made their way over to the only furniture in the room. A table with an office chair was positioned facing the wall in front of a full-length mirror. On the desk were a closed laptop and a camcorder. An empty bottle of red wine and a used glass were perched on the corner of the desk.
Mike and Helen had stormed through the side access only to find themselves in front of a set of stairs that led up to several empty rooms. A damp, dark musty space offered little for them to see. The windows had been sealed with steel shuttering to avoid vandalism. In one room, their torches picked out a solitary desk and chair in one corner, and the floor was strewn with paper. Mike moved around the upper floor with stealth, much in the same way he had been trained to in the army. His footsteps were measured, light and silent as his eyes darted from left to right. One hand rested poised on the grip of the taser, ready to be drawn at the slightest hint of threat. His instincts had been sharpened from many years on tours of duty. They had had to clear room after room, dwelling after dwelling, as they moved through abandoned villages. Every corner, every room, every street presented a threat to life. A sniper, an IED, a child suicide bomber were the threats he faced daily.
Scott felt his heart was about to burst out of his chest as he waited for the adrenaline to drain from his body. “Clear,” echoed from somewhere above, as Mike and Helen completed their search. The other officers continued to investigate the remainder of the large unit. Scott was drawn to the police dog that appeared keen to race over to a particular section of the unit. He gave a nod to the handler who let it off the leash. The dog raced over to a darkened corner that appeared to have some flattened cardboard boxes stacked up neatly. The dog buried its nose in the bottom of the pile before taking a step back and barking to alert its handler.
“Good boy. Sir, we have something here.”
Scott joined the officer, and together they began to remove the boxes. Once clear, a large steel box approximately five feet long sat against the wall. They exchanged nervous glances, unsure about what it may contain. There was always a risk of a booby trap, as Mike had pointed out from his days in the army. But the risk was minimal in Scott’s opinion. He grabbed the clasp and lifted the lid as Raj and Abby looked on.
A mixture of fear and relief washed over them as they discovered the body of a female. Scott leant in to feel for a pulse on her wrist and gave a nod to confirm the presence of one.
“Call for an ambulance,” Scott barked to the uniformed officers who’d gathered round. “And give me something to cut these ties and tape, and some water…get her some water now. Sam…Sam, I’m Detective Inspector Baker from Brighton CID. You’re safe now.”
His words fell on deaf ears as Sam remained unresponsive.
The dog started to pull his handler towards the back of the unit. “Sir, Merlin has picked up another scent.”
“Abby, you stay with her until the ambulance arrives. Raj, you’re with me,” Scott instructed with a sense of urgency in his voice.
The dog handler had already disappeared through the back door which led down some darkened steps into the basement, swiftly followed by Mike. Scott had only reached the top of the stairs when he heard the officer shout, “Police, stay where you are!” The cacophony of noise echoed up the narrow staircase as the officer’s voice was drowned out by ferocious barking from his dog. Scott and Raj quickened their pace as they took two steps at a time followed by two other uniformed officers.
The stairs led into a small dark, dank room with bare, darkened brick walls and a dusty concrete floor. A single camping light sat on a small desk. It offered nothing more than a yellow, luminous glow, which cast dancing shadows of the officers as they manoeuvred around the space.
Brian Hopper sat calmly on a small stool, with one leg crossed over the other and his hands resting on his knees. He had barely enough time to say hello over the noise of the barking dog before Mike grabbed the man by his shoulders and hauled him to the floor, securing him with handcuffs.
“Brian Hopper?” Scott asked, bending over to examine the man’s face.
Brian Hopper greeted him with a smile. “Yes, that’s correct. You moved quicker than I anticipated.”
“Get him out of here, Mike!” Scott shouted as the other officers retreated back up the stairs.
Hopper offered the slightest of resistance, and not enough to bother Mike as he was jostled up the stairs.
Hopper protested and pleaded as he was led away. “But you don’t understand, I can’t leave Sally alone. She wouldn’t be able to cope without me. She needs me to look after her. Can you give me your assurance that you will look after her safely?”
“Get this tosser out of my sight, Mike.”
54
The frenzied police activity had caused estate traffic to slow down, assuaging the drivers’ morbid curiosity. Workers from the other units had come out on to the road or peered through their windows at the commotion that played out in front of them. Scott could see several taking pictures and videos of the scene, many clearly seeing this as the highlight of their day.
Paramedics had arrived whilst Scott was downstairs and administered first aid to stabilise Sam’s condition. He felt a sigh of relief as he stood outside of the unit. The tension that had stiffened his shoulders began to ease off. An overwhelming sense of tiredness washed over him as he leant against the wall.
The team were busy recalling the series of events that led up to the result. He could see the relief on their faces as they smiled and puffed out their cheeks. In all the commotion, he’d forgotten about Berry, who stood across the street talking in hushed tones on her phone. He didn’t care now, she had nothing to throw at him and she knew it.
“Who is the DCI talking to?” Abby asked.
Scott shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. She’s probably feeding back to Meadows about what a fantastic job she’s done.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“Not any more. Trust me, she’ll be running back to Essex before the shit hits the fan.”
Abby turned to Scott, she narrowed her eyes and searched for a further explanation from Scott, but before he could offer her one, an officer urgently requested Scott’s attendance.
Scott tensed again. What had they found?
Scott and Abby followed the officer back down into the basement where a large police torch cast a bright glow on the gloomy space. Uniformed officers had discovered a second box buried into a makeshift hole in the floor covered by a board, and then camouflaged with sand. It was identical in nature to the one they had discovered upstairs.
Skeletal remains had been discovered. The bones had been neatly laid out. A blouse and skirt had been positioned over the remains. A cup and saucer with what appeared to be tea and a few biscuits sat beside the box. Her copper-tinted hair was the only clue to her identity. In a macabre way, the face of the skeleton appeared to be smiling at them, which Scott had never quite got used to.
55
There had been a collective sigh of relief following the capture of Brian Hopper and the safe return of Sam Tearl. The student would be under observation and assessment by psychologists. Scott knew that her lif
e would never be the same, and that she would need weeks and perhaps months of counselling to come to terms with the trauma she had experienced.
He felt emotionally and physically drained in the hours and days after Hopper’s arrest. The result had reflected well on Scott’s team and that of Sussex Police, which CC Lennon had made a point of highlighting in the press conference that followed.
Forensics were in the final stages of their examination of the skeletal remains. Hair fibre analysis confirmed that the remains belonged to Sally Anne Martin. During his interview, Hopper had confirmed that he had attacked Sally Anne Martin because she had refused his advances and that he had stolen her body.
Cara squeezed Scott’s hand as they sat in his car by the seafront and watched the waves rolling hypnotically. They were mesmerised as they watched one wave after another form an orderly queue before exploding onto the beach. “I’m glad I’ve got you back. I don’t care what you say. You and I are going online this afternoon, and we’re booking a holiday. I don’t care where we go, but we’re going tomorrow.
“I’ve actually got a friend who’s got a family apartment in El Faro, a little Spanish urbanisation close to the sea. It’s only twenty-five minutes from Malaga airport. It’s really quiet, no tourists and none of the Benidorm tower blocks. La Cala is only a short ride away, and it’s such a beautiful little town where we can go for walks along the wide sandy beach and dine on freshly caught fish, with the sand in our toes. I’ve got the keys already, so what do you think? It’s so private that you could make love to me on the balcony at night?”
Scott gave her a reassuring smile and laughed. “I’m sold. I’m sure Abby can hold the fort whilst I’m away.”
There was a comfortable silence between them before Cara continued. “Why did he do it?”
“Hopper?”
“Er hem.”
“He was manic schizophrenic and had bipolar. He developed an obsession with redheads after seeing Sally Anne Martin. He was so twisted in the head, that the more he saw her, the more he believed that she wanted to see him. He basically fell in love with her and couldn’t bear to be apart from her. The only problem was, she wanted to see him in a professional capacity. In his warped little mind, he thought she was genuinely interested in him. She would get him to talk about his past, his aspirations, getting better, and he took that as a sign that she wanted to find out more about him because she was keen on him.”
“And so he killed her because of that?”
“Sort of. When she felt he was becoming emotionally attached and dependent upon her, she wanted to terminate their sessions and refer him to a different psychiatrist. That pushed him over the edge. He tried to grab her to tell her how much he loved her, but she pushed him off. And that’s when he attacked. He squirrelled her body away because in his mind he believed that she was still alive and asleep. He was so mentally disturbed that it’s shocking. He used to take her a cup of tea and some biscuits every day. But for some reason, he thought she must have been off her food and feeling unwell because she never touched anything.”
Cara shook her head in consternation. “Holy shit, that’s proper messed up.”
Scott agreed. “He stopped taking his medication, and as a result became pretty unstable and irrational. For reasons he can’t explain, he ended up in Sussex. He tried to get meds from the hospital, but each time they became suspicious he legged it, and as a result, his episodes became erratic, frequent and more disturbing. Kidnapping redheads was his way of proving to Sally that he was attractive to other women, namely other redheads. He was trying to make her jealous. Over time he just built up a deeper obsession with redheads.”
“Well, he’s a very sick man. Let’s hope he gets put away for a very long time.”
Scott nodded and blew out his cheeks in relief, as he gazed out towards the sea. Not only had he cracked the case, but his team had come through safely and he had dispatched Berry.
Much to Meadows’s and Abby’s surprise, Berry had abruptly departed back for Essex. In the hours following Hopper’s arrest Abby had noticed Berry’s absence and had pressed Scott for an explanation.
Scott had explained that he made discreet enquiries with a few contacts that he still had within Essex Police. It transpired that Berry’s investigation into Sally Anne Martin’s disappearance had been flawed. For whatever reason, they had failed to do thorough checks on Sally’s bank account.
When Scott had contacted the manager of the Lloyds branch in Manningtree, he recalled Sally and Hopper coming in to withdraw nineteen thousand pounds in cash from her account. It had stuck in his mind because such a large withdrawal required his approval. At the time he had sensed that something wasn’t quite right. Sally appeared distant, upset and distressed. The manager recalled that Hopper seemed expressionless, and his eyes had a cold penetrating stare. He was surprised that the police hadn’t contacted him after her disappearance despite expressing his concerns to the SIO.
The money had allowed Hopper to stay under the radar and pay for everything in cash over the past few years and go on to commit further murders.
That was all the information he needed as the ace up his sleeve to push Berry into a corner. This discovery left Berry with lots of questions to answer when the IPCC start their investigation into the mismanagement of the Sally Anne Martin case.
Abby had punched the air in satisfaction at the prospect of Berry getting her comeuppance.
Scott on the other hand felt drained of any emotion or energy to celebrate or reflect on the past few days. The holiday with Cara and the opportunity to recharge his battery beckoned.
Current book list
Hop over to my website for a current list of books:
http://jaynadal.com/current-books/
Detective Inspector Scott Baker Series
Book 1 – Greed
Book 2 – Stolen
Book 3 – Retribution
Book 4 – Captive
Book 5 – Sacrifice
Book 6 – Isolation
Book 7 – Missing
Collaborative Series
Book 1 - You Saw Too Much
Book 2 - Don’t Look Back
Standalone Psychological Thriller
Last One Alive
Thomas Cade Thriller Series
Book 1 – Last Shot
Book 2 – Dying Truth
Book 3 – Too Close to Home
Book 4 – Her Last Breath (coming soon)
Stay In Touch
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Like my page on Facebook: Jay Nadal
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Email [email protected] with any questions, ideas or interesting story suggestions. Hey, even if you spot a typo that we’ve missed, then drop me a line!
About the Author
I’ve always had a strong passion for whodunnits, crime series and books. The more I immersed myself in it, the stronger the fascination grew.
I live on my own by the forest, but have the pleasure of my two lovely daughters aged eighteen and thirteen coming to stay with me a few days each week. In my spare time you’ll find me in the gym, reading books from authors in my genre or enjoying walks in the forest…It’s amazing what you think of when you give yourself some space.
Oh, and I’m an avid people-watcher. I just love to watch the interaction between people, their mannerisms, their way of expressing their thoughts…Weird I know, but I could spend hours engrossed in it.
I adore Brighton having spent a lot of my life here; the diversity of people, the relaxed and vibrant atmosphere never dulls my enthusiasm for this beautiful and special city.
I hope you enjoy the stories that I craft for you.
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