The Twisted Web (Detective Hannah Robbins Crime Series book 4)

by Rebecca Bradley

  If their decision had been different, he would have a two-year-old child now. A child who would not judge him. Who would be happy to see him. And who would be a link to the rest of his family.

  Turning back to his laptop he cleared the search bar. He had research to do. He needed to find someone local, that he could reach.

  It didn’t take long. They made it so that they were easily found. It was what they wanted.

  Well, you got what you wanted this time.

  I found you.

  And, I’m coming to get you.

  I’ll show them.

  In fact, you’ll show them, pretty much as you’ve been showing them all this time.

  This time is yours. I’m just going to give you a helping hand.

  30.

  After the briefing had finished Baxter threw me a look, twitched his head sideways in a way that said he wanted me to follow him to his office. I thanked everyone again for coming in on a Saturday and left them to get on with their tasks. We had plenty to be getting on with.

  I followed Baxter out of the incident room and we walked to the stairs. His office was on the floor above.

  We walked in silence. Usually he was quite chatty. He liked to come across as the friendly, even if quite meddlesome, boss. His shoulders were tight as I took the stairs behind him. His steps determined and his strides long.

  He was a man on a mission.

  He hadn’t been happy when he had seen Aaron back at work, but it had been expected. He had been the one to tell me about the possibility himself, so if this was what it was all about, I wasn’t sure why he was this tense.

  He closed the door behind me as we entered his office, made his way around his desk and took a seat, indicating I should do the same.

  ‘DS Stone is back, I see,’ he said with no preamble.

  ‘Yes, Sir. It’s great to have him back. He’s an integral part of the team.’

  Baxter didn’t flinch. ‘He’s been passed fit to work by Occupational Health then I take it?’

  I wasn’t sure what the point of this conversation was, but as Aaron had pointed out, Occ Health had given him the all clear so Baxter had little say. ‘Yes, he came in to see me yesterday evening and let me know how it had gone. He’s pretty eager to get back and to get stuck in.’

  Baxter leaned forward and steepled his fingers under his chin. He was obviously not a happy man and was assessing the information. ‘Here’s what you’re going to do, DI Robbins.’

  This didn’t sound good.

  He leaned back again, happy with his decision. ‘Starting today you are to keep a detailed log of every action DS Stone takes, every decision he makes and every mistake and error of judgement he makes. He’s going to find it hard to come back to work, I am sure he will slip up and we will be there to record those errors. The job–’ he made steady eye contact. ‘This job, demands officers of the highest calibre and if he is not up to the task then we need evidence of that.’

  I was shocked. Nearly at a loss for words. ‘I can’t vouch for DS Stone enough,’ I said. ‘In all his time on the unit he has never let us down.’

  Baxter rolled his eyes. ‘DI Robbins, this current case necessitates everyone is on the ball, we can’t have a weak link right now. Everyone is watching, in case you were not aware.’ His tone hardened.

  ‘I’m well aware of the case, Sir, and I’m well aware of Aaron’s capabilities–’

  ‘You will keep that log,’ he said, not allowing me to finish my sentence.

  I was incensed. He was asking me to look for evidence he could use to kick Aaron off the unit in an official capacity.

  31.

  Even though the night was cold, the streets were filled with revellers. Men wore jeans and shirts, some even with jumpers and jackets. The women though, they had insisted on coming out in the skimpiest clothes. Skirts just below their bottoms, and tops so low it was as though they wore strips of material. Drew could never understand this disconnect. He supposed it came from being a father of a teenage girl now. More aware of young women and, not only what they looked like when they were out, but how they handled themselves. And he wasn’t happy.

  He needed to remind himself he wasn’t here to get all judgey. There was a task to be completed.

  Castle Marina looked particularly beautiful at night, when the darkness enveloped it and the Magistrates’ Court across the river was all lit up. The court was a huge dome of glass. Not an upright dome. But sideways, coming out from one side wall across the front of the building like a bow and onto the other side wall. The front was a tower of lit-up glass with circular steel girders holding a semicircle of roof over the top. It was stunning in the night.

  The river, on the other hand, was dark and ominous. Or it would have been had it not been for the noise of the marina, the people in the bars, spilling out and feeding in.

  Plus, Lacey Lane was going to do a brief photo shoot on a canal boat this evening. She had announced it on her Instagram page and there was a crowd filling the area, waiting for her. Drew’s research had told him that she liked to take photographs in unusual places. It was one of the reasons her account had gone viral the way it had. The canal boat was one of the more ordinary settings she chose. Disused railways, empty parking lots… she’d even risked standing on train tracks – which was utterly beyond him and from what he had read after seeing the images, there had been a huge furore in the press because young and impressionable teenagers followed her account.

  She could have lost money, the sponsorships she had, but it was her risk-taking and unusual scenes that made her so popular. In the end the fuss had died down and she had continued to do what she did.

  It was this devil-may-care attitude that also made her perfect for this evening.

  He had to make it different to the last one. There could be no blood. He had to consider how he would get in and out. There were cameras all over this city, so he wore his woollen hat and baggiest hoody with the hood pulled up and over. The plainest jeans and trainers. And gloves. It was cold, of course he needed gloves.

  In his backpack he had a baseball cap because there was going to be a changeover. He was taking a big risk. If you wanted to make a big statement, you needed to take a big risk.

  Life couldn’t get much worse than it had since that day with the homeless lad. So, here he was, standing on the side of the river. Mingling with the inebriated crowds waiting for Lacey Lane to make her arrival.

  He took a slurp from the bottle of beer he was clutching. It was prudent to look like one of the crowd. Like one of the regulars. He would be taking the bottle with him though. Everyone knew how the police worked nowadays thanks to all the cop shows on the television.

  After twenty minutes in the cold, Lacey Lane made an appearance. She was unusually wrapped up in a large parka with a bright purple woollen hat on her head, pom-poms bouncing around on top of it, and a massive scarf wrapped several times around her neck in a multi-chequered pattern. She was a tiny thing. So much smaller than she appeared in her photographs. She can’t have been any taller than five three. Her frame disappeared beneath the layers she wore.

  Sensible girl.

  Lacey greeted the crowd with a megawatt smile. Signed some bits of paper that were shoved at her then climbed aboard the boat, and he was surprised about this, he had expected a lush clean boat, but she climbed onto a beat-up old thing. He thought back to the images he had seen online and yes, though the photos appeared glossy, they were set in glum and rustic-looking settings. She didn’t have a bag with her. Drew presumed she had everything she needed in her pocket. A phone for the photographs.

  A friend clambered aboard with her. She was taller, a flash of blonde hair. And less clothing. More like the girls that were swarming the banks around them with their drinks.

  The deep water of the Trent looked inky blank as he peered down. A screen hiding a hurtling rush of freezing water below the surface.

  The blonde friend started to take photographs of Lacey, who posed
and laughed on the deck of the canal boat. She was uninhibited. Unafraid to do as she wished in front of the waiting and watching throng who were here braving the cold night air. Drew stamped his feet in an effort to keep warm. From his distance it was fascinating to watch. Both Lacey, and the gathered crowd. How they lapped it up. As though a movie star had come to town. And how Lacey lapped up their adoration. She had been born for it, her movements natural, her laughter, gentle and easy.

  It was almost too difficult to take this away from her.

  Almost.

  32.

  The crowd grew bored and restless. Time ticked by and people broke away. One by one. Little by little. They left the edge of the water as they saw others enjoying the warmth of a bar. The music weaved out of the doors as they opened and closed.

  Lacey Lane and her friend had gone below deck. Presumably to take more photographs inside. Having seen her Instagram profile from different locations, it looked as though she only posted one, maybe two images from any one location, and yet, here she was taking tens, maybe hundreds of photographs. It had probably also come as a surprise to these fans who expected a flying visit, a quick snap.

  Lacey had known better and had dressed for the occasion. Her imagery wasn’t about showing her body, it was all about where she was.

  Drew wondered what he would do about the friend. Maybe he would have to call this off tonight, have to find another location, another night. Luck came his way, for once, and the friend waved goodbye, shouted that she’d see Lacey for breakfast and jumped off the canal boat onto the concrete side.

  Leaving Lacey Lane alone inside.

  The boat was moored on the opposite side to where Drew stood. It was outside the Magistrates’ Court. It was outside the twenty-four-hour custody block of Nottinghamshire police. The bland brick building wasn’t a police station, but it was filled with cops who took prisoners, arrestees, whatever they called them, there, at any hour they made an arrest.

  He had taken a huge risk.

  His mood dictated he did this tonight. He’d had enough. He wanted this to end. This thing that had taken over his whole life, that had taken hold and not let go. This was the only way to do something for himself, rather than have others actions ruin his life.

  Drew sauntered towards the bridge like he had all the time in the world and not a care to think about. He also had to be careful to not draw attention to himself.

  Yes, he had managed to get away with dumping a dead body publicly but this was on another level. If he wasn’t careful, his world could end.

  He nearly choked as he considered the words that had just slipped through his mind.

  His world would end?

  Wasn’t that why he was doing this? Because his world had already ended?

  It certainly felt that way.

  If he didn’t right it somehow then, yes, an arrest would top it off nicely and he wouldn’t even notice any difference. He felt closed in and locked off from the rest of the world as it was. What would being physically restrained in a brick and mortar building change? He’d still be confined and judged harshly for his actions. His life would still be taken from him.

  His footsteps felt firmer underfoot as he took the steps down towards the now silent canal boat. A glimmer of light shone out through a crack in a pair of dark dirty curtains that hung at the window.

  He looked across the Trent, at the people out to have a good time. Pulled the tip of his hood further down over his face. They were paying not the slightest attention to him. They were too busy engaged in their own lives. Soaking up, not only the beer and wine and cocktails, but any attention that came their way. Like magpies hoarding shiny glittery things. Eager to collect and store. Grabbing at them greedily, regardless of where they came from.

  It was sad really, not only were their online lives lived in such a strange and warped way, but, watching them out, like this, free from the constraints of daily life and expectations, they were such different beings. Like changelings.

  Drew ducked his head and tried to see if Lacey was visible through the tiny gap in the curtain, but it was little more than a slice allowing light to leak through. He couldn’t be taken unawares. She was used to this. She had the upper hand as far as that was concerned.

  Gently he stepped on board. Felt the vessel shift under foot. The change from solid ground to water. He took a moment to steady himself and to realign his centre of gravity.

  The light shift underfoot immediately took him back. Back to the long weekend he’d spent on a canal boat with Mel. She had been eight months pregnant with Dylan. They wanted to go away before the birth, spend some time out of the house before they were tied there with a crying infant. They wanted to feel real freedom and felt that the water would give them that, rather than the staid walls of a hotel room. Water was going back to nature without having to go camping. It had proper beds. A proper roof over their heads.

  Mel loved it. She had been in her element. He, on the other hand, had worried and fretted the entire time, scared that she would go into labour and that if they moved too far they would end up in a different hospital than the one they planned to use. Mel had kissed his neck and nibbled his ear – while at the same time she giggled mercilessly at his concern. There was nothing he could do but allow her to do as she wanted.

  Though this hadn’t been without difficulties. She was huge and movement was slow. Every time she tried to get on or off the boat he hovered over her, grabbing her and holding her, much to her frustration. Regardless of all of that, they managed to have a blissful three days. Dylan hadn’t made an appearance and Mel had been relaxed and happy. Thrilled at the prospect of starting their family and enjoying the last hurrah of coupledom.

  Back here and now, with Lacey, on this boat, he had the element of surprise. And he would use it to his advantage. He slipped his backpack off and with a slow movement placed it down onto the deck. He didn’t want its bulk to hinder him. He needed to have the freedom to move. Next Drew removed his gloves and pushed them in his bag, pulling out the latex gloves he had brought from the chemist. No need to leave fibre evidence if he didn’t need to.

  There was music playing inside the cabin. It was loud, which was a positive. This was all going in his direction. Some funky sound with a deep bass and lyrical female voice he didn’t know. It made him feel so much older than he was.

  With a last look across the river he took a steadying breath.

  It would be more difficult than last time. With Seb he had used a knife. It had been quick and relatively painless. Painless for him anyway. Though blood had obviously been an issue. With Lacey he needed to get more in her face and personal.

  Could he do this?

  As the water lapped quietly at the hull he thought back to that weekend and how happy they had been. He registered what had been lost. Why it had been lost. And how the girl in this canal boat had played her part. He couldn’t be sure if she added her voice to the many who called for his dismissal, or arrest – though luckily that hadn’t happened because the homeless man hadn’t come forward with any complaint and no one recognised him from the very short clip as he was being pushed, but, she may well have joined in for all he knew. That wasn’t the point. The issue here was that Lacey Lane was a part of the social media problem, where there was a kind of mania. People seemed to forget their real lives beyond the screen and he needed to remind them.

  And Lacey would help him.

  He inhaled. Deep into his lungs. Felt the cold air prickle deep within him. Damp from the river. Dirty.

  He was ready.

  33.

  He realised with rising panic that Lacey Lane was getting organised to leave the canal boat. That at any moment she would open the door and come face to face with him and then probably start screaming the area down.

  Right in front of the building filled with cops.

  The bile rose in his throat as the repercussions flashed forward through his head.

  He had to move and he had to move now.r />
  Without stopping to take off his gloves he picked up his rucksack. The light clicked off behind the door, the glow underneath snatched away.

  With one long stride Drew was off the canal boat. The handle of the door pushed down. He started to move. He had to be further away, but not look as though he was running away. He couldn’t look suspicious. His heart hammered in his chest, like it was about to explode right through his rib cage.

  He made it to the metal seat outside the Magistrates’ Court and dropped down, pushing his gloved hands down between his legs as he looked up at the canal boat.

  Lacey Lane was climbing down from the vessel.

  Bile filled his mouth. His stomach constricted and he swallowed the nasty fluid back down.

  Dragging the gloves from his hands, he wiped the sweat on his brow with the back of his hand.

  That was closer than he would have liked.

  He would not give up though.

  Lacey was on foot and alone. He could follow her. He’d see where she went and if it opened up any possibilities for him. If it turned out that she went to a club from here then his night was over. He wouldn’t give up yet. There was no let up when they were chasing him through the virtual world. Why should he quit in the real world?

  He grabbed the suitcase he had secreted by the river wall and lifted. Pulling it by its wheels would cause too much noise and make her aware of his presence. It depended on her level of awareness when she moved around the city. Not everyone was security conscious.

  With only a ten-minute walk she was what he presumed was home. A block of nice apartments at the Lace Market.

  She hadn’t looked behind her once.

  It helped that it was a busy weekend night with lots of people milling and walking about. One more behind her and she didn’t notice.

  Though it was strange that someone of her alleged fame wasn’t more attentive. He would definitely drum safety into Libbie as she got older. He wouldn’t have her walking so blithely through the city. In fact he wanted to lock her in her room until she was at least thirty-two.