by S A Tameez
“Hello trouble,” Nick said trying to sound normal. Not trying to show his desperation to get to his wife, though she told him to leave. Though he would only make things weird by going back there and holding her tightly like an obsessed maniac.
“How are you?” she asked making a face like she had just asked a silly question.
“I’m OK,” he smiled.
“Good,” she said and there was a brief, awkward silence before they both spoke at the same time.
“How’s Stacey?—"
“How are you?—”
They both chuckled.
“Stacey is getting better, thanks. What about you? And dare I ask, the investigation?”
“What investigation?”
“Oh, that good then?”
“No, we have made some progress. Would be good to catch up and touch base with what’s been happening… but I’m assuming you’re not here for work today.”
He looked passed her, at the exit. The panic, the need, the rush to get out of there and back to the hospital, back to Stacey was subsiding. His rational thinking was kicking in. Stacey was resting, she needed him gone. His mother was guarding his baby better than the secret service guarded the Queen.
“I’m not sure what I’m doing here to be honest,”
“I ask myself that a lot,” she laughed.
“You fancy getting a coffee?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” she said, “I can get you up to speed with what’s been going on.”
Nick loved the idea of just getting stuck into the case and his mind off everything else. The suffocating feeling had completely subsided. This was probably what he needed. Escape.
He felt selfish, getting away from that horrible hospital and enjoying a coffee in his happy place while Stacey was chained to the hospital bed with a catheter.
He was doing the right thing. He was no good to her there. He was better here, where he was needed. His mind flashed back to the dead girl. There was a killer out there. Someone who, in a moment, snatched that poor girl’s future from her. The killer had to be caught and their future needed to be spent in prison, where they could not harm innocent people.
“We got the Sailor,” Zoe said. Her words almost made Nick choke on his coffee.
“You did what?” he said, clearly having heard her but not registering it properly. He needed her to repeat it.
“We got him.”
“You sure it’s him? The Sailor?”
“We got significant evidence and a confession.”
“How? After all these years…”
“We followed the watch, followed the details and it led us to him.”
“The bloody watch! He has become careless then. Cocky.”
“Not exactly. He wanted us to catch him.”
“Why the hell would he want to get caught?”
“Because he didn’t kill Sarah,” she let that hang for a while. “He wanted to clear his name. He didn’t want this to stain his legacy. His perfect way of killing.”
“Crazy much?”
“Yup. But it does beg the question?”
“Who killed Sarah?”
Zoe nodded and swigged her drink.
“How do we know he isn’t lying?” Nick asked.
“We don’t, not for sure. But he’s here because he wants us to find the killer. He’s admitted to the other murders. He knows he’ll be rotting in jail.”
“Good point.”
Zoe’s phone buzzed on the table causing a loud hum.
“Zoe Hall,” she answered and then listened carefully for a moment. Her eyes lit up. “That’s brilliant news. Thanks for updating me!” she hung up and looked unable to shake the look of excitement from her face.
“What is it?”
“The day is just getting better and better.”
“Well, go on then… do tell,”
“They’ve found Norman Hyde. They’re bringing him in.”
****
Jessica sat on her son’s bed. His clothes and most of his other belongings were gone but his smell lingered. A distinct smell he held onto from childhood. A fragrance that encapsulated so many memories. Some good, some bad, most in between. She missed him. He was a great boy – misunderstood by the world. He was special and she couldn’t protect him. She had failed as a mother.
She had taken him to the doctors when he was a young boy. She knew something was different about him. He didn’t start speaking with the other children his age. She thought back to the time when he was a year and half and still not saying a word. The doctors said he was a late starter but there was nothing wrong with him. They were right – he did start talking later that year. Didn’t say much but could communicate. By 5, he was talking like everyone else, except he wasn’t talking like everyone else. He spoke when he needed to. When he needed something, hungry, thirsty, that sort of thing. But he never opened up about anything else. He never spoke about his feelings or anything that related to anything other than the logistics and operations of his day-to-day life.
He never fitted in at school. Bullied for being quiet. It was crazy. He often came home with ripped clothes and at times, cuts and bruises. He never talked about it. The school took no actions to stop it because they said they never saw it happen and he never said anything about getting bullied.
Useless teachers, useless doctors. They couldn’t help him. His father never understood him, he would lose patience and ignore him. For his father, it was as if he didn’t exist. She was glad he was gone. He didn’t deserve to be part of his life. No one did. It was only her that understood him – the gifts he had. The ghosts that chased him. The demons that haunted him.
She roamed down the stairs and out of the front of the house in her slippers feeling disorientated. She had never felt so lost. Her world had suddenly flipped upside down. Nothing made sense anymore. Equilibrium was lost, never to be found again. She walked across the street to a dark blue BMW and opened the rusted boot. Her eyes welled up as she stared inside. A plastic carrier bag decorated with speckles of blood. She didn’t need to come out here to see it. The image had been in her head for many days, troubling her, eating away at her.
She slammed the boot shut and held onto the car for balance. The road and everything on it were spinning around her. It was as if she was on a funfair ride spinning way faster than it should be. She ran back to her house, slammed the door shut and fell to the ground. She screamed and lay on the floor crying for the next 20 minutes.
She did what she had to protect him. She knew this. She hated herself for it, but this wasn’t about her. She did what any mother would do to protect her son. He needed her and she was there for him like she had been his entire life – she wasn’t going to let anyone take him away from her. No one. No one would find that bag and what was inside it. She would make sure of it.
****
“So, we’re going to interview Norman Hyde?” Nick asked as tried to keep up with Zoe’s pace.
“We?” she turned to face him, “You hanging around?”
“Yeah, I’m not needed anywhere else right now.”
“Ok, yes, I want to interview him, but it will take a while to get him booked in…”
“And…”
“There was another suspect – someone who had an altercation with the victim not long before she went missing. He’s been identified and we’ve managed to get a place of work. Not far from here.”
“Well, OK then… lead the way.”
Chapter 36
Software Systems Solutions
Zoe approached the desk and immediately asked to speak to the manager. Not in any mood to waste time.
A chubby bald man waddled to the front with his hand out. His trousers were too long and scrunched at his ankles and his shirt had sweat stains.
“How can I help you?” he asked nervously.
“We need to speak to,” Zoe looked at her notebook, “Justin Flynn. We understand that he works here.”
“Justin Flynn, yes, that name rings a bell�
� oh, yes, he is a new apprentice, I think. Follow me.”
They were escorted to a room close by. Comfortable blue sofas and inspirational quotes on the white walls.
“I’ll have security bring him down. Can I get you guys, and lady,” he looked embarrassingly at Zoe, “something to drink while you wait?”
“No thanks,” Zoe said, “We just had something. But if you could get him here as quick as possible that would be much appreciated.”
“Of course, we give full cooperation for Police investigations.” He left the room, closing the door behind him. His politeness and fast actions showed he was no stranger to Police investigations. This wasn’t a waiting room. It was a holding room. Buying him time to get organised in case they were being investigated. He was just following protocols. She couldn’t blame him – tech companies like this were often targets of lawsuits and investigations.
“So,” she said as Nick walked around the room reading the large print quotes on the wall.
“So?” he said still staring at the wall.
“So, how does it feel to be a father?”
He shot her a look and then sat back down on the sofa.
Crap! She did it again. Wrong question, wrong time. It wasn’t like this was the first time he was a father. He was a father briefly…
Idiot!
“It’s amazing,” he said. His words sent relief surging through her. “It’s indescribable. Holding a living breathing baby in your arms… it’s… who am I kidding? It’s terrifying.” He squeezed the back of his neck. “And to be honest, I don’t think it has fully sunk in.”
“He’s OK though, right?”
“Yes, he’s perfect. It’s me that I’m worried about.”
“What’d you mean?”
“I mean that I don’t know what I’m doing. I wanted to be a father more than anything in my life. After Michael, I thought it would never ever happen and… I didn’t expect it to happen. And now that it has… I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“I think you’ll be fine,” she smiled. “I don’t think any parent knows what they’re doing. I think they just wing it. It doesn’t matter how much you read or what people tell you. I guess nothing can prepare you for it when it happens.”
“I don’t know,” he stood and paced the room, “I watch my mother and how she just immediately knows what to do, and my father, he’s calm and in control… and…”
“You’re going to be just fine. You take it one step at a time.”
“You got more confidence in me than I have, that’s for sure.”
“I think you’re going to make a great father.”
“Thank you,” Nick smiled, and they gazed at each other until it felt awkward.
“A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty.”
Nick read out one of the quotes on the wall.
“Churchill,” Zoe says recognising the quote immediately.
“Very good,” Nick remarked, “Know any others?”
“I know a few,” she smiled.
There was a faint knock on the door before it swung open and chubby man with the oversized trousers walked in. He was followed by butch security guard and Justin Flynn. She recognised him from the images they had captured from the station’s CCTV footage.
Hello Brad Pitt.
He was taller than she imagined. Paler too. Either that or he had lost his glow since the station incident.
“Justin Flynn?” Zoe asked in an authoritative tone.
“Yes,” he replied faintly. She could sense the nerves in his voice.
“I’m DC Zoe Hall and this is DS Nick Bailey,” she gestured to Nick who nodded silently. “We’d like to ask you some questions…” she looked over at the chubby man and the security guard who stood observing.
“Sorry,” the chubby man said, “We’ll leave you to it but if you could please sign out on your way out. And if there’s anything else you need… just ask for me at reception.”
“Thanks,” Zoe said, “I’m sure we’ll be fine, and this shouldn’t take long.”
The chubby man offered a nervous smile and left the room with the security guard.
There was a brief silence as Zoe flicked though her notebook and then glanced up at Justin.
“Take a seat,” Nick smiled and pulled a stylish green chair towards him.
“What’s this about?”
“We just want to ask you a few questions about Sarah Fowler, is that OK?”
He nodded and sat down. He placed his palms on his laps and stared at his polished shoes.
“Did you know Sarah Fowler?”
“Yes,” he responded not offering any other details.
“Do you mind if I ask you what your relationship with Miss Fowler was?”
“We were friends in school.”
“Were?” Zoe asked.
“Yes, I moved away and only came back to London a little while back.”
“And… Sarah and you kept in touch?”
There was a short pause. His mouth opened but there was brief hesitation in his voice. It was subtle but enough for her to notice. She didn’t like hesitation in responses. It usually meant a lie was being prepared.
“Yes,” he said, “Well, sort of.”
She noticed Nick shuffle to get more comfortable on the sofa. They were definitely not as comfortable as they looked.
“What do you mean, sort of?” she prodded.
“I mean,” he took in a deep breath, “I mean I followed her on social media. You know, kept up to date with what she was doing in her life, that sort of thing.”
You stalked her! The first thought that sprang to her mind.
“So, you were friends with her online and that’s how you kept in touch?”
“Yes… no. We weren’t friends online. I found her profile and just followed her and saw her updates. I never sent her a friend request, so we never really spoke.”
“I see,” she said and scribbled the details in her notebook.
“It wasn’t like a weird thing,” he said defensively, “Everyone does it these days.”
“That’s alright,” she said, “We’re quite familiar with how social media works.”
“Of course,” he said. His cheeks reddened in embarrassment, “Sorry.”
“That’s fine. Did you see Sarah when you came back to London?”
“Yes, I ran into her at Lambeth North Tube Station, and we went for a coffee.”
“That was convenient,” Nick said with a smile, “What are the chances?”
Justin rubbed his thighs with his palms and sighed.
“It wasn’t a coincidence,” he said quietly.
“What do you mean?” Nick asked.
“I mean that I knew she would be there. She updated a lot on social media. Her university details, degree, friends, pretty much everything.”
“I see,” Zoe said and continued her scribbling.
“I can see how this looks,” his voice raised slightly.
“How does it look?” Nick asked.
“You’re trying to say I was stalking her!”
“We’re not saying anything, Mr Flynn. We’re just asking you some questions, that’s all.”
He stood up and faced away from them.
“I heard what happened to her. What some monster did to her,” he snivelled. “The truth is that I… I liked her. I liked her from when were in school, from when we were kids. But I never had the courage to tell her. I didn’t think she would ever be interested in me. We were friends. That was it.” He turned to face them. His eyes had welled up. “When my father decided to move, I realised just how much I liked her. I could never really move on with my life and…”
“And?” Zoe said, desperately not wanting him to stop talking.
“And when I found this opportunity to come to London on an apprenticeship, I took it. Not because of the apprenticeship but because of her.” He slumped in the chair.
“Sarah Fow
ler, you mean?”
“Yes. I wanted to talk to her. Tell her how I felt. This time it would be different. My acne had cleared up, I had lost the braces and contact lenses had replaced those ugly glasses. I thought she might look at me differently now. You know.”
“I understand,” Zoe said. Listening to him was like watching a teen romance flick. Except this plot was less romantic and more tragic.
“So, what happened when you met?” Nick asked.
“We saw each other twice. The first time was nice. We caught up and grabbed a coffee. It was great. But the second time, she clocked on that us meeting wasn’t exactly a coincidence and… she didn’t take it very well, let’s just put it that way.”
“Is that what you were arguing about at the station?”
“Yes,” he replied quickly and didn’t question how they knew about the incident. It gave her an indication that he may not be lying. He seemed too distraught about losing her to care. Not that it meant he didn’t kill her. Thinking back to the criminal case studies in university, he was the perfect person for this murder. He had the obsessive traits. Stalked her. Obviously madly in love with her. Perhaps one of the last people to see her alive, and yet, she didn’t believe it was him.
“What happened exactly?” Nick asked.
“She confronted me about us meeting not being a coincidence. She said I’d lied to her. She was really worked up. Seemed on edge.”
“Why did she strike you?” Zoe asked.
“I wanted to explain myself to her, but she wouldn’t listen. If she would have just given me a minute, I could have explained that I wanted to run into her to tell her how I felt about her. I must have grabbed her arm to stop her from storming off thinking all sorts about me. I didn’t want to hurt her. That’s the last thing I wanted. You must believe me!” He sounded out of breath as he spoke. “I didn’t want her thinking I was a weirdo. I wanted her to like me, that’s all, I swear.”
“And she hit you because you wouldn’t let her go?” Nick asked.
“I didn’t even realise I was holding on to her until she hit me. It just all happened so fast.”
“OK,” Zoe said looking up from her notebook, “Where did you go after that?”
